The Constant Heart

by Dilly Court

  She was glad to get away from the lodging house with its unpleasant smells and depressing atmosphere. Even though she was well aware that poverty was a fact of life for many this part of London, it was still a shock to see someone quite close to her suffering in this way. As she walked briskly towards the Barnums' establishment, the image of the bare room and Caddie's hungry children haunted her thoughts. It occurred to her that her own life had been sheltered and cushioned from reality by the combined efforts of Papa and Bertha.

  They were not wealthy like the Gostellows, but Papa had always said they were comfortably off, and she had never thought to question the fact. She had always had everything she wanted, within reason. She had nice clothes, a room all to herself filled with pretty things and relics of her childhood: a wooden rocking horse, a doll with a waxen head and glossy black hair, picture books and novelettes, fashion magazines, and, her favourite, a musical box that played the 'Blue Danube', which had belonged to her mother. Her safe, secure world was rocking on its axis – it was not a pleasant experience.

  She entered the Barnums' house with a feeling of relief that here, at least, things were normal. Gertie, although her usual sullen self, seemed plump, well fed and smart in her cotton print gown and starched white apron. While she waited in the front parlour for Sukey, Rosina looked around with pleasure at the floral wallpaper, the tasselled velvet curtains and the gleaming mahogany furniture polished to a mirror sheen and scented with beeswax. The mantelshelf groaned with ornaments: two pot dogs glaring at each other from opposing ends, a spill jar, a brass clock, and china figurines of shepherds and shepherdesses. Papa would have said it was a vulgar show of new money, but it was solid and comforting.

  The door burst open and Sukey flounced into the room, pouting and tossing her golden curls. If she had been a bird, Rosina thought, stifling the desire to giggle, Sukey would have been ruffling her feathers. Rosina held out her arms. 'I am so sorry. I was hateful to you earlier. Am I forgiven?'

  Sukey's mouth curved into a smile. 'Of course you are. It was a silly old argument anyway and nothing to do with us.'

  'Just because our fathers choose to squabble like two schoolboys, there's no need for us to fall out, is there?'

  'Certainly not. It's time they put all that behind them.' Sukey reached up to the mantelshelf and picked up a small package. 'And now I can give you your birthday present. I'm sorry it's a day late.'

  Rosie held out her hand. 'It's never too late to receive a present. I wonder what it is?'

  'Open it, silly. There's only one way to find out.'

  The tissue paper wrapping came away with a couple of tweaks of Rosina's eager fingers to reveal a small box. Inside was a silver bracelet and she gasped with pleasure as she took it from its case. 'It's beautiful. Thank you so much, Sukey.'

  'I thought you'd like it, and you have hardly any jewellery.' Sukey did a twirl, holding out her skirts. 'Our dada is always buying us presents. Do you like my new gown?'

  Rosina dropped the bracelet back in the box, her delight in the gift dulled by Sukey's careless comment. She knew that no malice was intended, but it still hurt just a little to know that she was pitied for not owning as many trinkets as the Barnum girls. She managed a smile as she fingered the material of Sukey's new gown. 'It's really lovely. And it's silk.'

  'Of course it is. Dada wouldn't have me wear anything else.' Sukey executed a half- turn. 'And it's got the latest bustle. What do you think of that?'

  It was hard not to be a little envious. Rosina gazed down at her skirts, that were plain by comparison to the lavish amount of trimming on Sukey's elegant gown. She smiled and nodded, she hoped enthusiastically. 'It's splendid.' It was splendid; in fact it was gorgeous, and she would have given her right arm to possess such a magnificent dress. It was the most delightful shade of violet blue, but, if she were being honest, it swamped Sukey's pale complexion and made her look quite sallow. Such a rich colour would have suited her much better – after all, it was almost the same colour as her eyes and everyone knew that brunettes could get away with vibrant shades much better than insipid blondes.

  Sukey was looking at her with a worried frown. 'You do like it, don't you?'

  Rosina instantly hated herself for being so mean and she clasped Sukey's hands. 'It is the most beautiful gown that I have ever seen, and you look lovely in it.'

  A rosy blush coloured Sukey's pale cheeks. 'Thank you, dearest Rosie. I knew you would tell me the truth. Mary said it made me look peaky, the spiteful little cat. Anyway, she's only sixteen so what does she know about fashion?'

  'What indeed?' Rosina said, with heartfelt sympathy. Sukey's younger sisters – staid, bookish Mary and precocious, spoilt Lillian – made her glad that she was an only child.

  'I must go upstairs and change back into my morning dress before Mama catches me. I'm not supposed to be wearing this until we go out to tea with the Jones-Hardings on Thursday afternoon.'

  'I didn't know that your mama knew the Jones-Hardings.' Rosina tried once again to stifle feelings of envy. The Jones-Hardings were almost as wealthy as the Gostellows, even if they had made their money in the rag and bone trade.

  'My mama makes it her business to befriend the wives of rich merchants, particularly if they have eligible sons.' Sukey nudged Rosina in the ribs with a saucy wink. 'She has her sights set on taking tea with the Gostellows next. I think she sees me and Harry as a pair. What do you think, Rosie?'

  Rosina shrugged her shoulders. She wasn't sure that she liked the idea, and she was quite certain that he'd never looked twice at Sukey – at least, not in a lover-like way. 'He's a good catch, if you're interested in finding a rich husband.'

  'And you're not, I suppose?'

  'One day I'll marry for love, not money.'

  Sukey let out a peal of laughter. 'How romantic. But it wouldn't hurt if the man in question was well off, now would it?'

  'I just said . . .'

  'I know what you said. I think you're sweet on Harry yourself.'

  'I am not. I like Harry, but just as a friend, that's all.'

  'Then you wouldn't mind if he came courting me?'

  'Well, we certainly aren't going to fall out over a man.' Rosina picked up a satin cushion and threw it at Sukey. 'Isn't it bad enough that we've had to put up with our fathers feuding like a couple of moody old Sicilians all these years?'

  Sukey caught the cushion and threw it back, but she was laughing so much that her aim was wide of the mark, and as the door opened the missile hit Gertie full in the face. She took a step backwards, spluttering with rage. 'Miss Sukey! You could have had me eye out.'

  'Nonsense, Gertie. How many times have I told you to knock before you enter?'

  'Is there a war on?' Harry strolled into the room, picking up the cushion and holding it in front of him like a shield. 'Is it safe for a fellow to come in?'

  Rosina was nearest to him and she snatched it from his grasp. 'Not unless you tell us the password, Harry.'

  Sukey waved her hand at Gertie, who was hanging about in the doorway intent on following the conversation. 'Go about your business, girl.'

  Gertie shut the door with unnecessary force.

  'That girl ought to be sent straight back to the foundling home,' Sukey said, frowning.

  'The password, Harry,' Rosina insisted, smiling. 'You can't stay unless you say it.'

  'Well, now. How about Cremorne Gardens?'

  'Cremorne Gardens!' Rosina and Sukey breathed the words in unison.

  'That's what I said.' Harry took the cushion from Rosina and dropped it onto the sofa. 'I thought a trip to Cremorne tomorrow evening, for the three of us, would be just the thing. What say you?'

  Rosina glanced at Sukey. Cremorne Gardens was famous for its al fresco entertainments. She had heard that there were concerts, ballets, fireworks and balloon ascents. The gardens were reputed to be magnificent and brilliantly illuminated by hundreds of gaslights. There were equestrian events, puppet shows, music and dancing, and, it was rumou
red, a great deal of loose and lewd behaviour by drunken and debauched men and women, which was the main reason why Rosina and Sukey had never been allowed to go there.

  'Do you really mean it, Harry? Would you take us there for supper and dancing?' Rosina held her breath. She wouldn't mind in the least if Sukey were to come too; after all, they would chaperone each other. It would be perfectly respectable, and terribly exciting.

  'Of course I do. I wouldn't have suggested the outing if I did not intend to do it. What do you say, ladies? Will you accompany me?'

  Sukey clapped her hands. 'Yes. Oh, yes, Harry.' Her smile faded and she sat down on the nearest chair in a flurry of silk and a swirl of lace-trimmed petticoats. 'There's only one problem. My father would never allow it.'

  'Nor mine, either,' Rosina said, frowning. But she so wanted to go. She met Harry's eyes and saw that he was looking at her with a twinkle. She smiled. 'But if they didn't know about it, then they couldn't object, could they?'

  'They'd never let me out of the house.' Sukey's bottom lip trembled ominously. 'If I tried to slip out unnoticed, my beastly sisters would sneak on me.'

  'And Bertha is only deaf when it suits her.' Rosina did not mention Walter, but she had a suspicion that he might be following Pa's instructions to work late so that he could keep an eye on her. Prisoners in Newgate had more chance of escape than she did.

  'Don't worry, ladies.' Harry puffed out his chest. 'I intend to do this properly. I'll speak to Mrs Barnum and ask her permission to escort you to my home for dinner, Miss Susan. And then I'll speak to Bertha and give her the same story. I don't think they'll object to the pair of you being entertained by my parents.'

  'Oh, Harry. You are wonderful,' Sukey said, fluttering her eyelashes and blushing.

  Rosina was doubtful. 'You'll have to work hard to convince Bertha.'

  'Don't worry,' Harry said with a confident smile. 'I know how to turn on the charm. She'll say yes, you can count on that.'

  *

  'Certainly not,' Bertha said, wagging her finger at Rosina. 'I promised your papa that I would look after you while he's away, and look after you I will.'

  'But Sukey will be going with us, and Harry is going to take us there and bring us safely home.' Rosina's heart sank as she saw the stubborn set of Bertha's jaw. That was a bad sign. She tugged playfully at her apron strings. 'What harm could come to us in the Gostellows' mansion?'

  'It's not you being there that worries me. I'm coming with you to see that there's no hanky-panky on the way there or on the way home.'

  'As if either Sukey or me would allow such a thing! Shame on you for thinking so, Bebe.'

  'It's not you two innocents that worries me, it's the young gentleman in question. If his intentions are honourable, then that's fine, but if they ain't – then he'll have me to deal with.' Bertha heaved her large body from the chair by the range. 'Your pa would never forgive me if I was to let you go out with a young man without a proper chaperone.'

  'But Sukey will be coming too. Won't you just think about it, please, Bebe?'

  'Don't pester me, girl. I got the meal to finish preparing, and you shouldn't have invited Caddie and her nippers to supper without asking me. What if there weren't enough food to go round?'

  Rosina gave her a hug. 'You always cook enough for an army, and I'll bet poor Caddie has never tasted anything like your steak and kidney pudding. She's close to her time, poor thing.'

  'Well, I suppose we must look after her. But don't make a habit of it, Rosie. This ain't a soup kitchen.'

  'No, I promise I won't.' Having skilfully changed the subject, Rosina tried not to look too pleased with herself. Given time, she could usually twist Bertha round her little finger. She had until tomorrow evening – a lot could happen in twenty-four hours.

  But Bertha remained adamant, and, next evening, Rosina was beginning to despair.

  'I'm coming with you, and that's final.' Bertha rammed her bonnet on her head and tied the ribbons under her several chins. 'I'm sure that the Gostellows won't mind if I wait for you in the servants' hall.'

  'But, Bebe, wouldn't you rather sit by the fire and rest your weary bones? You're always saying that your bunions begin to play up at this time of night.'

  'I don't care. I got to do me duty and I'm coming with you.'

  Rosina glanced at the kitchen clock. Harry would be arriving in less than half an hour and there seemed to be no way of deflecting Bertha from her purpose. She hadn't wanted to involve Walter, but she was desperate, and she knew that he was her last chance. 'Bebe, I don't want to put you to so much trouble. If it's the return journey that is worrying you so much, why don't I ask Walter to meet us at the Gostellows' house and keep us company on the way home? You know you can trust dear old Walter. Papa certainly does.' She held her breath, watching Bertha's expression carefully. As she had hoped, there was a flicker of uncertainty in her grey eyes.

  'Well, I suppose that would do: so long as Walter promised to see you safely into the house. I am a bit tired after having them dratted kids running wild in me kitchen last evening. You was such a good child at that age, but poor Caddie has no control over them boys. Goodness knows how she'll manage when the next one is born.'

  'So is it all right if I go and ask Walter?'

  Bertha nodded and slumped down on her chair. 'You can ask him, but I ain't taking off me bonnet until he tells me hisself that he'll do it.'

  Walter was tidying up the office in preparation for the close of business that day. Rosina went in with her fingers crossed behind her back. This was not the perfect solution, but it would have to do. They would just have to make certain that they returned from Cremorne Gardens in good time to be waiting outside Harry's house when Walter came to meet them. 'Walter,' she said sweetly. 'I have an enormous favour to ask of you.'

  'And he really believed you?' Sukey was seated next to Rosina on the deck of the steamer bound for Cremorne Pier.

  'He's a simple soul,' Harry said, spreading his arm along the back of the seat so that it rested against Rosina's shoulders.

  She allowed the intimacy without comment. After all, the steamer was packed with people all out for an entertaining evening at the gardens. There was much chatter and laughter, and, as far as she could see, quite a lot of what Bertha would call 'lewd behaviour'. Some of the young women on board allowed quite blatant intimacies to take place as they cuddled close to their gentlemen friends. Rosina was not sure that she ought to allow Harry to call Walter a simple soul, but she decided to let it pass. She leaned back against his arm, feeling the warmth from his body against her shoulders. It was not an altogether unpleasant experience. 'We must be back before midnight, Harry,' she murmured. 'I told Walter to wait outside your house and that we would be travelling home in a hackney carriage.'

  'Just like Cinderella,' Sukey giggled. 'You know, having to leave the ball at midnight or the coach would turn back into a pumpkin and be driven by white mice.'

  Harry gave her an indulgent smile. 'And which one of you beauties is going to play the part of Cinderella, I wonder?'

  Rosina barely heard Sukey's pert reply; she was more interested in the sights and sounds of the river that was almost as busy with traffic in the evening as it was in the daytime. Barges, wherries and lighters plied their trade along the piers and wharves. The sound of the water smacking the bottom of the boat like an angry mother spanking a naughty child was all but drowned out by the chug-chugging of the engine and the piercing blast of the steam whistle warning other craft to get out of the way. A cacophony of hooting and tooting, accompanied by the shouts of watermen, filled the air. The muddy waters of the River Thames glowed bronze in the last rays of light as the sun plummeted towards the west in a great fireball. As the steamer ploughed upriver, the stench of the manufactories in the East End was less pungent, and the smell of hot engine oil was mixed with the cheap scent, pomade and body odour of the closely packed passengers. By the time they reached Cremorne Pier, Rosina was intoxicated with anticipation and ex
citement. The steamer bumped against the wooden stanchions and there was a frantic scurry as people snatched up their belongings in their hurry to get ashore.