by Mary Gibson
*
Archie Goss, though her father, was still a mystery to her, known only through her aunts’ stories or her own vague memories. She would just have to let him prove himself to her over time. And the following week he would get the opportunity. For Nora sent a note inviting Kate to their home.
Chibby was so excited after your meeting! I haven’t seen him as happy in a long time. We would love you to lunch with us here on Sunday. Chibby is wary of going to Bermondsey – he doesn’t want to be anywhere near the sisters – he’s furious with them! We’ll send the motor.
As planned, her father’s car came for her on a quiet Sunday morning. There were enough people about for the motor to attract the usual attention, though Kate thought the neighbours must be getting used to the sight of her being driven here and there. The driver opened the door and she slid into the leather seats, pretending not to notice the curious stares. She began to understand how easy it was to get used to the trappings of wealth. But if Archie Goss had turned out to be running his business from a coster barrow in Petticoat Lane, would she have been as happy at their reunion? She knew the answer would be ‘yes’.
They arrived at a pretty terrace near Belgrave Square and stopped outside a white house. There were steps up to the front door and steps down to a semi-basement below. A spiked iron railing ran along the front, and through the car window she saw the ground floor had two tall windows. At one of them, she thought she saw a curtain twitch. On the second floor were two delicate wrought-iron balconies and in the deep, tiled roof, she saw several dormer windows. They reminded her of home. Fear gave way to eagerness and she emerged from the car, mounting three steps to the wide, black door. But before the driver could even knock, it was opened by Nora.
She kissed Kate on the cheek and took her hand. ‘He’s waiting for you in the garden room.’
‘Are you coming in too?’ She gripped Nora’s hand more tightly.
‘I’ll see you at lunch.’
She led Kate down the tiled hall to a pale green door, turned the brass handle and ushered Kate inside, whispering, ‘He’s so looking forward to seeing you again!’
A large bay window, letting in sun and a glimpse of green, dominated the room. She was aware of tasteful, light-coloured armchairs and a sofa arranged around the fireplace. On a small round table was a vase of creamy roses. She instantly recognized the delicacy of Nora’s taste in the room but there, in the middle of it all, stood her father. A powerful, muscular presence, he was studying Martin’s cool painting of Nora. He had his back to her, so she couldn’t tell if he liked it, but she remembered the one he definitely didn’t like. She took a step forward and he turned to her. She saw an instant look of shock, almost as if he wasn’t expecting to see her.
‘Dear God, Katy!’ He approached with both hands outstretched. ‘I thought it was your mother walking into the room.’ His eyes glistened and now she could believe how, after all these years, the memory of her mother still haunted him. He took her hands, leading her into the room. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t stop looking at you!’ He laughed and drew her to two chairs placed by the large window. She looked out on a small garden, full of roses in shades of white and cream, no doubt the source of the flowers on the table. Again, she saw only Nora’s influence. Archie’s frame seemed too big for the chair, his elbows sticking out over the arms and his muscular thighs filling the small seat. He’d seemed much more at home in his office.
‘Pretty garden,’ he said, following her gaze. ‘All Nora.’
‘It’s beautiful. A bit different to the backyard in East Lane.’
He flinched. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Dad, I won’t be able to talk about my life if you keep saying sorry every time I mention the place. It wasn’t your fault you was lied to.’
His face relaxed. ‘All right, I’ll stop, I promise. Just tell me more about your life.’
And so she did. From her earliest memories to her first days at school, the loss of her precious Grimm’s Fairy Tales, her fights with Aunt Sylvie and her cousins, and starting at Boutle’s. He listened intently; sometimes a pained expression crossed his face. And though she tried to, there was no disguising the harshness of that life. She wanted desperately to find some crumbs of comfort for him, some signs that her childhood had not been completely unhappy, and so she told him the story of her girlish love for Johnny, their games on the foreshore, how she’d loved playing along the street and making the other kids laugh with her mimicry. He seemed to be enjoying the tales, smiling and nodding as he recognized some of the cast of neighbours. But when she told of the day Longbonnet chased her to Parker’s Row, giving Kate a sixpence instead of a telling-off, his expression darkened again.
‘That old witch! I’m sorry to hear you had anything to do with her. She never liked me, would have stopped me marrying your mother if she could have done – same as all Bessie’s family. We had opposition from every side – my sisters didn’t like the marriage either.’ He turned to look out of the window, but seemed to be staring past the roses to East Lane and his youth. ‘They couldn’t stop us. We were a love match, your mother and I.’
There was silence between them, broken only by the ticking of a glass carriage clock on the mantelpiece. He rubbed the plush arms of his chair and eventually slapped his palms down. ‘Too much brooding on the past.’ He looked up with a smile. ‘We have all the future before us, Katy. And I intend to make up for everything you’ve suffered.’ He smiled, stood and offered her his arm. ‘But first, lunch.’
The dining room was every bit as elegant as the rest of the house; its wood-panelled walls were painted pale green, and the delicately turned chairs and oval table had a foreign look about them. Gold-and-green silk curtains, held back by tasselled braids, framed the long windows. Perhaps Nora was trying to recreate her chateau home. Or maybe all wealthy people lived in houses like this; Kate had no way of knowing. But if, as Nora had said, most of her own money was gone and Archie was looking for Mrs Cliffe’s backing for his business, where was the money coming from to run this place? Whoever was paying for it, the house seemed to flow around Nora as if it emanated from her. Chibby was more like the ginger tom that had strolled into the pretty garden and made his home there, and Kate wondered if, even with all his accomplishments, he wouldn’t be more at home in East Lane.
A young maid, in a black frock, white apron and cap, served the lunch. The girl had a miserable, sallow face. She served Nora and Archie first, kept Kate waiting and then plonked the plate on the table in front of her. She stomped out and Nora pulled a face at Kate. ‘Sorry! Lizzie’s new.’
Kate would have been miserable too. She’d been nothing but a maid for Aunt Sylvie’s lot and many a time she’d have loved to tip the stew in their laps. It had certainly put her off going into service. Or perhaps the girl was just a snob, seeing Kate as an interloper whose proper place was downstairs scrubbing pans. But that was exactly how Kate felt too. It would take a long time to get used to her unearned shift in status.
She got through the lunch by pretending this was all one of her daydreams. Her dreaming self was up in the garret in East Lane, planning what would come next. What actually came next was a loud knocking on the front door; soon after which the maid returned, informing Archie that there was someone to see him.
‘I’m not expecting anyone. Who is it?’ he asked sharply.
‘Wouldn’t say, sir.’
‘Well, tell them I’m not at home.’
The maid looked to Nora, who shot an uncertain look in the direction of the hall. ‘Don’t you think, Chibby, you ought to just see—’
‘No! Absolutely not, Nora.’ The maid gave an impatient shrug and Kate noticed that she fixed Archie with a stare of loathing as she left. Kate was certain she mouthed ‘arse’ole’ before closing the door. Archie took up the conversation as if nothing had happened. He was obviously a man who valued his privacy.
‘Nora, why don’t you tell Katy about our little surprise?’
�
�Yes!’ Nora said, looking pleased with herself, and was about to get up when the maid returned.
‘Sorry, sir, they won’t go away, says it’s urgent.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, all right! Nora, you take Katy upstairs and show her.’
He strode out and Nora gazed after him. ‘His business drains him. He hates being disturbed at home.’
She followed Nora out of the dining room and peered along the hall to the front door. Archie’s broad back blocked her view so that she couldn’t see the person on the doorstep, but she could just about hear him. The voice was low, indistinct, and Kate thought the accent sounded more Bermondsey than Belgravia. Then she heard the visitor clearly say, ‘You fuckin’ better get a move on, hadn’t you, Uncle Archie? He wants his money.’
As Nora led her upstairs, Kate looked back to see her father grab the man by his coat, put his face close and growl, ‘Get yourself back to the organ grinder, you loathsome little monkey. And tell him an investment always carries risk.’ Archie lifted Stan off his feet and shoved him down the front steps.
Kate knew exactly what had just gone on. She’d had similar conversations with Stan and was unsettled to find that her father had his own dealings with Mr Smith – who’d obviously run out of patience. Perhaps it wasn’t his sisters that he wanted to avoid by staying away from Bermondsey so much as Mr Smith.
Nora reached the top landing and, showing no sign that she’d noticed the encounter on the doorstep, beckoned her into a bedroom. It overlooked the garden and Kate heard a blackbird in the small rowan tree that filled her view. Late-afternoon light fell over a single bed with a pale violet eiderdown. There was a wardrobe and matching dressing table, with a silver-backed hairbrush and mirror. Nora sat on the bed, patting the eiderdown for Kate to join her. ‘Do you like the room?’
Kate looked around appreciatively. ‘It’s beautiful. But, Nora, did you hear what was going on downstairs? Is my dad in trouble with a loan shark? Only I’ve had a bit of experience meself and I think he should just pay up and get himself out of it!’
Nora sat up straight. ‘Kate, don’t ever let him hear you talking like that.’ She glanced towards the door. ‘Chibby is a businessman and sometimes he has to make hard decisions. He absolutely wouldn’t like you to question his judgement.’
‘What, not even me?’
‘Especially not you.’
Kate thought for a while. ‘You’re right. It’s not like he’s seen what I was like growing up – asking all my silly questions… I used to drive Aunt Sylvie mad!’ She stroked the violet eiderdown. ‘That’s why they called me Noss. Dad’s had no time to get used to me. But he will.’ She grinned and was glad to see Nora’s tense expression relax.
When Archie came in and found them sitting on the bed chatting, he showed no signs of his previous anger and, like Nora, acted as if nothing had happened. Though Kate was longing to ask him about Stan, she realized she’d have to curtail her natural curiosity in order to keep her dad happy.
‘Ah, my two girls, getting to know each other. What a lovely sight.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Have you told her?’ he asked Nora.
‘I wanted to wait for you.’
Archie looked pleased. ‘Katy, we want you to visit us often and we thought it would be nice for you to have your own bedroom in our house.’ He looked to Nora and nodded. She got off the bed and opened the wardrobe.
Kate looked from one to the other. ‘This is for me?’
‘Yes, this is your bedroom now, Kate, and here—’ she swung the wardrobe door wide – are a few things I thought you might like.’
‘But it’s all too nice!’ And to her own surprise, she began to cry.
Archie stuck his hands deep into his trouser pockets. ‘Nora?’
She went to sit beside Kate and put an arm around her. ‘None of that. Too nice, indeed! Come and look at these dresses and wipe those tears.’
‘Thank you. You’re both so kind.’ She got up and embraced her father. ‘I knew you’d be kind,’ she said and, embarrassed, he patted her cheek.
‘Well, I’ll leave you to try on dresses. I’m afraid I have to go to my office. I’m sorry to leave you, but Nora will explain the rest of our little plan.’
He left, and while Nora took down several dresses, a jacket and a summer coat, laying them on the bed, she explained what Archie had meant. She repeated that they wanted Kate to visit often and get to know her father again. ‘And then if you agree, we’d like you to come and live with us. What do you think of that idea?’ Nora asked.
Kate was overwhelmed. She would move in tomorrow. She pretended to think it over and then said, ‘It’s a good idea to get to know each other first. He might end up not liking me. Probably I’ll just be too annoying!’
Nora smiled. ‘I don’t think so. The danger is you won’t be able to put up with him!’
She selected a yellow-and-white shift and took it off the hanger. ‘Come and try this on,’ she said, and began unbuttoning the back of Kate’s dress.
‘Your father has so many good points, Kate, and I would never be disloyal to him, but what we just witnessed, it’s not uncommon. His temper flares up. I’m not making excuses, but I blame the war. He went through hell – well, they all did, how couldn’t they come back changed? But Chibby, sometimes he’s like two different men – a Jekyll and Hyde, almost. Usually he’ll go out after an episode – to cool off – and when he comes home, he’s the considerate, captivating man I married once again.’ She helped Kate step into the dress and looked her in the eye for the first time in their conversation. ‘It was my idea to have a trial period for you. I felt you should know everything about him first.’ Kate wasn’t sure if she’d heard a note of discouragement in Nora’s voice, but then the woman added brightly, ‘If it was up to Chibby, he’d have you moving in here tomorrow!’
*
She asked the driver to drop her off before they got to East Lane – she didn’t feel like attracting any more attention today. He handed her the bag containing some of her new clothes; the majority she’d left at her father’s house. They were too fine for her life in East Lane; better they stayed in the pretty bedroom, ready for her possible future. But her garret was stifling, and after spending all day in her father’s fine home, she recognized it for what it was. A hovel. It had always seemed a refuge, a symbol of freedom, a place to dream, and she found it strange that now the dream was a reality, she saw only the bare boards, the orange-crate cupboard, the rags she called dresses hanging from the rafters.
She went out, down to the Thames. The day had been so warm there were still some kids out on the foreshore paddling, others diving from lighters and swimming with ungainly strokes, fighting the swift tide. She leaned against the low wall by East Lane Stairs and watched them, envying their easy joy. They had all their dreams before them and she was beginning to understand that a dream realized is also a dream lost. She rested her chin in her hands, enjoying the breeze and the musty river smell.
She became aware of a presence. Someone else was leaning on the wall, a few feet from her. She looked to see who it was. Clean-shaven, immaculately dressed in a crisp, open-necked blue shirt and light trousers, Johnny tipped his cap. He was smoking a cigarette.
‘Want one?’ When she smiled at him, he strolled over and took out a packet.
They stood smoking silently for a while and she said, ‘You look better, Johnny. I’m so pleased.’
‘I came to see you earlier – you were out.’
She remembered their last conversation. When the old Johnny’s back, she’d said, come and ask me again… But ‘the old Johnny’ wasn’t the only one who’d come back, and now everything was changed.
‘I was in Belgravia.’
He shot her a look of surprise and then she told him about how she’d found her father again.
‘I’m happy for you,’ he said simply. ‘You’ve waited so long for him, you deserve a better life.’ He flicked away the cigarette and looked into her eyes for the first
time. ‘You’ll move away.’
And you’ll move on, she thought, instantly knowing that the question he’d come to ask her would go unasked. Johnny would never hold her back and she would never give him false hope by pretending that she wouldn’t leave. So she stayed silent, until he pointed to where a group of kids were grubbing in the mud.
‘Remember the silver coin?’ he asked, and she felt a sudden rush of love for him, wishing she were that young mudlark again, whose dreams were so uncomplicated and so unattainable.
14
Bermondsey to Belgravia
Aunt Sylvie stood like a solid block in her path.
‘I want a word with you, Kate Goss!’
Kate wasn’t surprised. Her father had told her he would be sending Aunt Sylvie a letter, expressing his anger at her lies and her appalling treatment of his daughter. If Aunt Sylvie hadn’t been aware before that Archie had no love left for her, she was now.
‘You’ve turned my brother against me! I’ll have you, you evil little mare!’
Kate knew Aunt Sylvie’s fighting style by now and easily dodged the hand reaching to grab a fistful of her dark curls.
‘Me, evil?’ She was retreating and Aunt Sylvie advancing – soon they would be at East Lane river stairs and Kate didn’t fancy being tipped into the Thames. She ducked around her aunt. ‘You’re the wicked liar, telling him I hated him, when you knew full well all I wanted was for him to come and get me!’
But her aunt wasn’t listening. She took another run at Kate, who stuck out a foot and sent her sprawling. Kate dropped down and put her knee into her aunt’s well-padded stomach. Pinning her down and only inches from her aunt’s face, she said, ‘I’ve kept quiet because Dad told me he’d deal with it, but I swear,’ and here her voice cracked, ‘if it was up to me I’d creep into your house one night and stick a knife in your black heart, you old witch. You stole my dad from me!’
