Dilly Court - Ragged Rose

‘You’re coming back just to see me?’ Maisie stared at her in surprise. ‘Really?’

‘Of course. I want to make sure that you’re happy and settled, but Cora and I usually call in to see Aunt Polly after work.’

‘You work? What do you do? I thought you was rich.’

‘It would take too long to explain now.’ Rose looked to her aunt for help, but Polly shrugged. ‘But we’ll talk about it some other time.’

Maisie set Spartacus down on the floor. ‘You won’t just leave me here, will you, miss?’ Her voice rose in panic as she caught Rose by the sleeve. ‘I’m scared.’

‘There’s no need to be frightened,’ Rose said, giving her a quick hug. ‘Aunt Polly is the kindest person I know, and I come here often so you’ll see quite a lot of me. I won’t abandon you, Maisie.’

With obvious reluctance Maisie released her hold. ‘All right. I believe you, miss.’ She shot a sideways glance at Polly. ‘If you’re sure she’s all right.’

‘I may seem old to a child like you,’ Polly said irritably, ‘but I’m not deaf. Come and sit down, you silly girl, and I’ll tell you what your duties will be.’

Rose hesitated in the doorway, giving Maisie an encouraging nod and a smile.

‘I ain’t afraid of hard work.’ Maisie perched on the edge of a chair. ‘I’m used to scrubbing floors and washing dishes.’

‘That’s as maybe, but we have all those jobs in hand. I think I will put you in charge of Spartacus. He’s a grumpy old chap and most of my girls are scared of him, and Cook chases him with a carving knife when he steals food from the larder. It will be your job to take care of him and make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.’

Maisie put her head on one side, eyeing Polly like an inquisitive robin. ‘If he’s such a pest why do you keep him?’

‘Because he’s a brilliant mouser and rat catcher. He earns his living, but he has to be kept in order. Can you do that? Speak up if it’s too much for you.’

‘It ain’t much of a job. I’d say it was more a pleasure. I’ll do it and more.’

Polly held out her hand. ‘Then we have a deal.’

Rose was smiling as she left the house. Aunt Polly had hit on the one thing that would make it easier for Maisie to settle into her new home. Coming as she did from a reasonably close family, Rose could only imagine what it must be like to be raised in an institution. She quickened her pace; this was the day when she and Cora visited the sick and the needy in the parish, taking jars of calf’s-foot jelly and beef tea. If Mrs Blunt was feeling particularly generous she would add some of her small sweet cakes, which she said would tempt the most jaded appetite. Rose took charge of these in case Cora was tempted to sample a few during the long walk; a habit that had endured since childhood when their mother had been well enough to undertake parish duties.

She arrived home to find Cora alone in the dining room, yawning and seemingly half-asleep over a bowl of porridge.

‘Have you seen Pa this morning?’ Rose asked.

‘He was called out to baptise a newborn that wasn’t expected to live,’ Cora said sleepily.

Rose reached for the coffee pot and filled a cup, adding a dash of milk and a lump of sugar. The walk in the chill of the early morning had sharpened her appetite, and, even though she had eaten earlier, she buttered a slice of toast. ‘Is Ma up yet?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Cora pushed her plate away. ‘Mrs Blunt said you’d taken Maisie to Aunt Polly.’

‘I did and you’ll never guess what happened.’ Rose bit into the toast, chewed and swallowed. She reached for the raspberry jam and spooned some on the side of her plate.

‘I’m too tired to work out a conundrum, Rosie. I couldn’t sleep for thinking of Gerard.’

Rose paused with the toast halfway to her lips. ‘Gerard? Who is he?’

‘The handsome young man I was talking to at Fancello’s last night. Didn’t you see him?’

‘I saw dozens of men, but the only one I remember was the dear old colonel. He was such a gentleman.’

Cora sighed. ‘Gerard is a gentleman. He’s the Honourable Gerard Barclay, and he’s the younger son of Lord Barclay.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Cora, show a little sense,’ Rose said crossly.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Cora’s lips formed a sulky pout. ‘You’re just jealous.’

‘Don’t be silly. I can’t even remember what he looked like, but he’ll be a toff on the lookout for a pretty girl to flirt and amuse himself with.’

‘You don’t know that. He was perfectly charming.’

‘I’m sure he was, but if he’s there tonight you must ignore him. Don’t allow yourself to be taken in. I don’t know anything about him or his family, but what I do know is that they don’t mix with the likes of us.’

‘We’re perfectly respectable girls. Pa is a clergyman. He speaks directly to God.’

Rose choked on a mouthful of coffee, unable to stifle a chuckle. ‘Tell that to Lord Barclay and note his reaction. I’m sorry, Corrie dear, but you know the rules. We mustn’t get involved with anyone at Fancello’s. We have to carry on until we have enough money to hire a lawyer.’

‘I hadn’t forgotten. How could I forget? But I think sometimes you get carried away with being on the stage. I think you enjoy it.’

‘I do. I admit that, and you do too, if you’re being honest. I love the excitement and the applause, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to perform at the Grecian or the Pavilion, but that’s not going to happen.’ Rose finished her slice of toast and drained her cup. ‘Come on, Corrie. We’ve got to do our duty in the parish, but tonight we can put on our greasepaint and our costumes and make believe. Gerard comes into that category, and you must keep him there. He mustn’t find out who you are.’

Cora rose from her seat. ‘I know, and yes, you’re right.’

‘I understand it’s hard, Cora,’ Rosa said gently, ‘but we’re doing well so far.’ She stood up, brushing crumbs from her skirt. ‘I’m going to see if Mrs Blunt has finished packing the baskets and then we’ll set off. At least it’s not raining and the sun is trying to come out, so maybe it will be a nice day after all.’

Despite her cheerful words Rose could not help feeling anxious as she made her way to the kitchen. Cora was sweet-natured and affectionate, and she always saw the best in people. Gerard Barclay had obviously made a deep impression on her and it could prove disastrous. Rose loved her sister and she was determined to protect her, but they must not lose sight of their goal. She opened the kitchen door and was greeted by a flustered Mrs Blunt.

‘Thank goodness you came. There’s a messenger at the back door who refuses to go away unless he speaks to you in person. I tried to make him see sense, but he says he’ll stand there all day if necessary.’

‘Really? I don’t know who that could be.’ Rose frowned, thinking hard. ‘I’ll go and see what he wants.’

Rose hurried through the scullery, wondering why a messenger would choose the back door over the front entrance. It seemed unusual for one of her father’s flock to make a mystery of what would probably turn out to be a request to visit the dying or a plea for help. She opened the door and came face to face with a scruffy youth whose ragged clothes might have fitted him once, but were now too short in the arms, and his trouser legs ended an inch or so above his shabby boots where the uppers had come away from the soles, exposing muddy toes.

‘Can I help you?’ she asked warily.

‘I got a message for you, miss.’ The boy glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting to see spies lurking in the shrubbery.