Ragged Rose. Dilly Court
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‘Yes, of course.’ Polly turned to Maisie. ‘Off you go. I’m sure you have chores to attend to.’
Maisie bobbed a curtsey. ‘Yes’m. It is all right for me to go to the vicarage this evening, isn’t it?’
‘Haven’t I just said so?’ Polly waited until Maisie had trotted off towards the back stairs. ‘I need to talk to you, but not out here in this draughty hall. I don’t know why I keep this house on. I’d be better off living alone in a small cottage than trying to keep this place going.’ She ushered Rose into the parlour and threw herself down on the chaise longue, disturbing Spartacus, who opened one yellow eye, stretched and extended his claws, and, having made his feelings clear, went back to sleep.
Rose took a seat by the fire, holding her hands out to the blaze. Spring might be in the air, but it was cold outside, and a fitful sun had not yet managed to burn off the thick haze of pollution from the gas works, and the pall of smoke from manufactories and coal fires.
‘What did you want to say to me, Aunt?’
‘That girl cannot remain here much longer. It’s not her fault, but she’s mixing with women twice her age, and the majority have got into trouble by selling their favours on street corners. They’re not bad souls for the most part, but it’s no place for an innocent like Maisie.’
Rose stared at her aunt, puzzled by her sudden change of heart. ‘Surely she’ll learn something from her experience here? I know that her employer took advantage of her, but she will have to go out into the world and earn her own living at some stage.’
‘Maisie trusts everyone – I realised that from the start – and she’s very impressionable. She might have the body of a young woman, but in her head she’s still a little girl. We need to find her somewhere permanent.’
‘I’ve asked her to help out at home this evening. Maybe I can persuade Papa to take her on as a scullery maid. Mrs Blunt has more than enough work to keep her occupied.’
‘That would be a kindness to the girl, otherwise I can see her ending up in a brothel, or the workhouse. A fate that most of my girls will suffer, alas.’
‘I’ve never seen you like this, Aunt Polly. You’re usually so positive and forthright.’
‘We lost one of the younger mothers last night, Rose. I took her across the road to the Lying-In Hospital, but they couldn’t save her or the child.’ Polly dashed her hand across her eyes. ‘Don’t take any notice of me, my dear. I expect I’m just tired. I’m getting too old to be up all night. When I was the toast of the East End I could give my best on stage and go on to dine and dance, staying out until the small hours without any adverse effects.’ She forced her lips into a smile but her eyes were lacklustre and red-rimmed. ‘Now tell me what is bothering you.’
‘It’s Mama. She was taken ill again yesterday, and the doctor says she needs to get away from the city. I’m hoping I can persuade Papa to take her to the country, or the seaside, although I’m certain he will say that it would cost too much.’
‘I suppose you could use some of the money you’ve saved. It’s all there in my strong box.’
Rose shook her head. ‘No. I can’t do that. Billy’s life depends on having the best barrister I can afford. Billy has chosen Sharpe and I have to trust his judgement. By the way, Mr Sharpe won’t be calling this morning as he’s had to return to Cornwall.’
‘Then I am at a loss, for the moment at least.’ A glimmer of humour lit Polly’s blue eyes. ‘Which is unusual for me, you must admit.’
‘I do freely, Aunt,’ Rose said, chuckling. ‘I’ve never known you to be lost for words before.’
‘I will think about it very carefully.’ Polly sat up straight, as if struck by a sudden thought. ‘There is one possibility.’
Rose sat on the edge of her seat. ‘Really? What is it?’
‘Eleanor had a friend who lived near us in Islington until she married, and then she moved to the south coast. She is your godmother and I believe my sister corresponded with her for many years. You could ask your mother if she remembers Isabel Harman. If they are still in touch perhaps she could stay with Isabel, and then your father wouldn’t need to leave his flock. Although I know he thinks he’s irreplaceable.’
‘Papa needs a rest too. I’ve asked Joshua if he would be prepared to take over, providing Papa agreed, and there was no objection from the diocese.’
‘Then I suggest you go home and speak to your mother, or even Mrs Blunt. I don’t think there’s anything that woman misses. I suspect that she listens at keyholes, and I wouldn’t put it past her to read any correspondence she found lying around.’
‘That’s not fair,’ Rose said, suppressing a chuckle. ‘Mrs Blunt has been with us for ever.’
‘My point exactly.’ Polly stroked Spartacus absent-mindedly and he began to purr. ‘Now go home, Rose dear. I’m going to take a nap before luncheon.’ She closed her eyes. ‘And take Maisie with you. Her endless chatter grates on my nerves.’
‘Yes, Aunt. Of course.’ Rose jumped to her feet. She was eager to get home and find out more about Isabel Harman.
Eleanor was propped up on pillows, sipping a cup of warm milk, when Rose entered the bedroom. ‘You’re looking much better, Mama,’ she said softly. ‘How do you feel now?’
‘I hate hot milk.’ Eleanor held the cup out to her. ‘Please take it away, and don’t let Mrs Blunt see you tip it down the sink.’
Smiling, Rose took it from her. ‘I won’t tell on you, Mama. Although I’m sure it’s good for you. Can I get you something else?’
‘No, thank you, my love. I’m not hungry. All I want to do is sleep.’
Rose hesitated. ‘I was talking to Aunt Polly and she told me that you have a friend who is my godmother. I didn’t realise we had anyone close to us.’
A faint smile hovered around Eleanor’s pale lips. ‘She must have meant Isabel, who was my dearest friend. She moved away from town when she married for the second time. Her new husband didn’t like London.’
‘Aunt Polly said you’ve kept in touch with her.’
‘Why the sudden interest?’ Eleanor’s thin hand plucked at the coverlet. ‘What has Polly been saying?’
‘That’s all she told me. I was just curious, because I thought it might be nice to have someone for you to visit occasionally. I dare say you would like to see her again, wouldn’t you?’
‘I’m too ill to travel,’ Eleanor said pettishly. ‘I need to rest now, Rose. Go away like a good girl.’
‘Of course, Mama. I’m sorry if I’ve tired you.’ Rose walked to the door. ‘Mrs Harman moved to Brighton, so Aunt Polly said.’
Eleanor’s eyes opened wide. ‘Polly never could get anything right. Isabel lives in Lyme Regis. Brighton, indeed!’