Sweet Rosie

by Iris Gower

  Alice smiled to herself; little did he know that the babies she carried were the progeny of a rich man, a man who could hold up his head in any society. She was glad her children would have a father who was respected, wealthy and handsome. Eynon had a daughter but should Alice give birth to sons, Eynon would one day leave them his fortune. The thought made her very happy.

  Alice heard the sound of the front door opening and then Edward’s voice echoed through the hall. He was in a bad mood, that much was clear from the high-pitched tone he used to the unfortunate maid. When he entered the room, he looked at his wife, his expression cold.

  ‘Alice, you are spending far too much money, my account is almost empty. You must stop this extravagance right now, do you hear me?’

  ‘How could I not hear you, Edward? I think the entire neighbourhood must have heard you. Kindly lower your voice and sit down. Now, tell me calmly just what it is I have done wrong.’

  He mopped his face with his handkerchief; sweat beaded his prominent nose and ran along the sides of his thin cheeks. Alice wondered how she could bear to have him touch her. Well, from now on, that was just not going to happen. He would not dream of coming to her bed while she was pregnant and she would make sure he never bothered her after the twins were born.

  ‘You know what is wrong!’ He paced towards the window; his brow was furrowed and he seemed about to burst into tears. ‘How do you think it looks when the senior manager of the bank cannot even keep his own accounts in order? Tell me that, Alice, just tell me that!’

  She sighed heavily. ‘My father has promised me some more money.’ The lie came easily to her lips. Edward was such a fool. Alice shook her head, despairing of this weakling she had married. ‘You worry too much, dear Edward. Haven’t I said I will take care of everything?’

  ‘Well then,’ he lowered his voice a fraction, ‘you’d better get on with it before I end up in trouble with the bank.’

  ‘I will write to my father at once.’ Alice rose to her feet, tired of Edward’s moaning. ‘I shall go to my room now and compose a letter. In the meantime, perhaps you would be good enough to summon the maid and order a cooling drink.’ She frowned at him. ‘It doesn’t do to get overwrought, Edward, you’ll suffer an apoplexy and then where will I be? And me with twins on the way.’

  She was glad of the peaceful silence of her room. She sat in the light from the window and drew a sheet of paper towards her. It was high time that Eynon took some serious responsibility for the children he had spawned on her. She would write to him again, threaten to go to his house and confront him. He would have to see her if he wished to avoid an unpleasant scene. After all, facing Eynon was far better than facing her irate and disapproving father.

  Lily was better placed now she was with Polly; she certainly felt more secure though she found the big house somewhat intimidating. Several times she had got lost in the maze of passages joining the lower rooms and had needed to ask the servants for help.

  She was in a strange position, neither servant nor mistress, and as she sat with Polly in the drawing room of the big house she stared out at the neat gardens and wondered what else fate held in store for her.

  She had become what Polly laughingly called a companion housekeeper and was dressed in a good silk gown and a matching jacket. That they were Polly’s cast-offs rankled more than a little but anything was better than the rough calico Lily had become accustomed to while working for Alice Sparks.

  ‘Jem was at it again last night, he’s a real scream when he gets randy!’ Polly kicked her legs in the air in glee. ‘You should see him, Lil, his nightshirt standing out in front as if he had a poker up there! He’s a real laugh and no mistake!’

  Lily was disgusted at the very thought. Jem Boucher might be a gent but he was so old. His cheeks were sagging and his beard hung in grey straggles down the front of his waistcoat. The thought of going to bed with the man made her want to retch.

  Polly read her expression well. ‘He’s not half bad for an old guy, mind,’ she said. ‘Better than some young ’uns who turn out to be one-minute wonders.’ She smiled as she saw Lily’s blank stare. ‘You know, in and out so quick you got no time to draw breath.’

  Lily remained silent; she could not think of anything to say. Polly, sensing her disapproval, shook her head in amusement.

  ‘At least I had the sense to get myself out of the gutter!’ she said. ‘Sometimes, Lily, you annoy me! You act all superior but didn’t you marry a man just to get yourself a comfortable bed and food in your belly?’

  Lily lowered her head; she could not deny what Polly was saying. But then her husband had been a normal man, a man who liked his comforts but not a man to make a show of them the way Jem did. Jem was an old lecher who eyed every woman as though she were a morsel of food on a plate to be devoured at will. Lily kept well out of his way.

  ‘I’m sorry, Polly.’ She forced herself to speak gently. If Polly should lose patience with her she would be out on the road again. ‘It’s just that I’ve never liked that sort of thing, you know that.’

  ‘Aye, I know, right stick-in-the-mud you are, Lily, I just don’t understand you. Lying with a man is fun, it’s not dirty the way you think it is.’

  Lily looked up at her friend’s earnest face and wished she could be like her. She spoke her thoughts out loud. ‘You are so easy with men, Polly, and I’m so awkward with them.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t think any decent man will look at me now, I’m getting too old.’ She rose and looked in the mirror over the fireplace. She saw a pretty girl with large eyes and small, neat features. She had put on a little weight and it suited her. Her skin was unlined, her hair softly curling around her forehead. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I feel old, inside, you know what I mean.’

  ‘What I do know is that what you need is some fun, girl.’ Polly sat up straight. ‘Ring the bell for the maid, Lil, let’s get the carriage into town and buy some clothes, is it?’

  Lily knew what that meant. Polly would buy gowns and perhaps some bonnets and even several pairs of shoes but not for her. Oh, no. Polly would have the new clothes and pass her old dresses on to Lily. Still, anything was better than sitting here in the house like a prisoner.

  Sometimes Lily missed the pottery, missed the smell of oxide and tallow and missed the company of her fellow workers. Once she had thought she was above them. She had looked down on Pearl. She had even scorned Watt Bevan who had offered her a respectable marriage. If only she had taken him up on his offer she would be her own woman now, comfortable and respected in the community. Instead she was little more than a lady’s maid, pandering to Polly’s every whim.

  ‘Fetch the coats then, Lily,’ Polly said. ‘And for goodness’ sake cheer up, I might have a surprise for you later.’

  ‘What sort of surprise?’ Lily was suspicious; sometimes Polly’s surprises were not welcome ones. Like the time she had arranged for them to go to the musical evening in the town hall. The music was fine, it was the company of the two young gentlemen that Lily objected to. All they wanted was a good time and the evening had ended up with Polly giving it to them while Lily sat in the coach in a fever of impatience to be home and warm in her bed.

  ‘Don’t worry, we are not going out on the town tonight. No, this surprise is going to happen right here and I guarantee that you’ll like it,’ Polly said. Lily could only hope so.

  It was a fine day, a little chilly but with a pale sun lighting the roadway ahead of them. The coach was a comfortable one; it should be, it had once belonged to the Morton-Edwards family and was made from the finest materials money could buy. Jem had purchased it from Eynon Morton-Edwards after Polly admired the family crest. Lily supposed that a man as rich as Eynon would have several coaches in his stables; he could well do without one of them.

  The town was busy and, as Lily stepped out onto the cobbled roadway, she saw Alice Sparks going into the best clothing emporium in Swansea. Polly gestured towards the ornate doorway.

  ‘There’s the woman you
used to work for, uppity bitch! Come on, let’s go in after her!’ Polly hugged Lily’s arm. ‘We’ll show the old madam a thing or two, you’ll see. Thinks she’s made of better stuff than me but money talks louder than any posh voice.’

  Her heart sinking into her boots, Lily followed Polly inside the store. The air was heavy with the scent of rosewater and, if the rich drapes at the windows were a little dusty, it was difficult to tell in the dimness of the light.

  Alice Sparks was at the millinery counter. The hat she was trying was far too large for her small face but she turned this way and that, admiring herself in the long mirror. Polly tapped her hand on the polished counter and the sales assistant gave her a long look, assessing her clothes, her good jewellery, and immediately bowed to Alice, begging to be excused.

  ‘Bring me your most expensive hats.’ Polly had adopted the fine accent she had learned from her husband. ‘And you can send the bill to Jem Boucher, pottery owner.’

  ‘Yes, madam, at once.’ The woman fetched an armful of boxes and placed them on the counter and Polly remained still, waiting. Eagerly, the assistant opened the hatboxes, spreading hats across the counter.

  ‘Take your time, madam,’ she said. ‘I will be back with you in a moment.’

  ‘Wait!’ Polly ordered and the assistant stopped in her tracks. ‘I want you to show me the hats not to simply hand them to me as disrespectfully as if I was some street girl.’

  ‘But, madam, I have another customer.’

  ‘Yes!’ Alice Sparks called. ‘I was here first.’

  ‘How is that bank-manager husband of yours, Mrs Sparks?’ Polly said innocently. Lily watched in admiration; Polly was cleverly putting Alice in her place as the wife of a humble manager of the bank at which Jem Boucher deposited his great wealth.

  The assistant looked from one to the other and then Polly attempted to clinch the matter. ‘I am in rather a hurry, I have other purchases to make, so perhaps you would serve me first?’

  ‘But I want seven new hats.’ Alice made a last-ditch attempt to win the day. ‘I need a new one for every day, you see.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘My dear father has left me his fortune and I intend to spend as much of it here in the emporium as I can.’

  ‘In that case,’ Polly said sweetly, ‘your need is greater than mine. My companion and I will take a seat until you are finished.’

  She hustled Lily to the side of the room. ‘Now the old bitch will have to buy seven hats or risk looking a fool! This is going to be a right scream, Lil.’

  ‘But if her father has left her money she can afford seven hats.’ Lily was bewildered; it was not like Polly to stand aside for anyone.

  ‘Don’t be daft!’ Polly said scathingly. ‘Them Sparks haven’t got two half-pennies to rub together.’ She giggled. ‘My Jem knows everything about the bank and Mrs high-and-mighty Sparks is in for a nasty surprise any day now. She can’t afford one hat let alone seven.’

  Alice was pale-faced by the time her packages were being put aside for delivery. She looked briefly at Polly, her eyes cold.

  ‘Day to you, Mrs Sparks,’ Polly said brightly, ‘hope you enjoy your nice new hats.’

  As Alice swept past them, Lily felt sorry for her. She was a bitch as Polly put it, but it was sad to see any woman brought low because of a man. Lily wondered uneasily if she had been a fool to trust Alice with her money. Still, there was little point in brooding about that now.

  The hours passed quickly and, to Lily’s surprise, she left the emporium with a brand-new gown, two pairs of evening slippers and a fine pure-wool wrap. Polly’s own purchases were too numerous to carry and would be delivered later.

  ‘You got to look your best for this evening, see.’ Polly hugged her arm as the two women returned to the coach. ‘And don’t look so worried, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, would I now?’

  Lily was not too sure about that but she smiled; at least she had some new clothes of her very own. She felt a dart of happiness as she thought of the pale blue muslin dress that showed her slim figure to advantage. The pale white wool of the wrap brought out the colour in her cheeks and she had felt for a moment like the well-dressed lady about town that she had always wanted to be.

  It was with mixed feelings that she dressed for supper that night. She looked her best and she knew it but she was suspicious. Polly had something up her sleeve. Lily could only hope that her friend’s plans did not include any more eager young men.

  But when she entered the large, pleasant dining room, her fears were allayed by the sight of Jem seated at the head of the table, his grey hair highlighted in the flickering light from the candles, his eyes sparkling as he lifted his glass to greet her. At his side was another man, not quite as old as Jem but old enough to be circumspect.

  ‘Come in, my dear Lily.’ Jem spoke with unaccustomed warmth and though Lily was used to leering smiles from him she was surprised at the pleasant way he greeted her now.

  ‘Come and sit here, between me and our guest.’ Jem indicated the empty chair beside him and Polly winked at Lily. So this was her surprise, a man as old as Jem but much more handsome with startlingly bright blue eyes.

  ‘Let’s get the formalities over quickly.’ Jem smiled. ‘Matthew Starky, meet our little friend Lily.’

  Her fingers were grasped in a warm handshake and smiling eyes looked into hers.

  ‘And very beautiful you are too, Lily, if I may say so.’ His voice was warm with a West Country accent and Lily found herself liking him on sight. Quite what he expected of her she did not dare to think but, for now, he was just a fellow guest at the dinner table of Jem Boucher and it would not hurt to be kind to him.

  The meal was more sumptuous than usual. Rich soup was followed by a fish course and then the main course was carried in by a bevy of servants. Chicken carved into fine slices decorated the edges of the meat charger. At the centre of the plate, a huge joint of beef, still sizzling from the oven, took pride of place on the polished table. Lily did not have an enormous appetite but she enjoyed every mouthful of the dinner.

  Matthew was a good companion; he kept the company regaled with anecdotes about his life as a tea merchant, a business that clearly kept him in great style judging by the rich cloth of his coat and the gold stud sparkling at his shirt front.

  When the ladies took their leave of the gentlemen and retired to the drawing room, Lily looked at Polly, her eyebrows raised. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘Matthew is a very nice man but what does he want of me?’

  ‘Don’t be so silly!’ Polly said. ‘He wants to set you up in a fine house at the edge of town and shower gifts on you.’

  ‘So he is looking for a mistress.’ Lily felt inordinately disappointed; she had found herself hoping for marriage to an old man who would one day die and leave her his wealth.

  Polly sank into a chair and fanned her face with her hand. ‘Yes, my love, he wants a mistress, what else?’

  ‘Nothing else,’ Lily said flatly. ‘You know I don’t like that sort of thing, Polly. I don’t know why you put me in such a position. Now I’ll have to refuse him and he’ll be hurt.’

  Polly leaned forward. ‘Play your cards right, Lil,’ she said earnestly. ‘Matt has got no children, his wife is ancient, older than he is even. When she pops her clogs he’ll probably want to make an honest woman of you.’ A wicked smile curved her lips. ‘If you can be a good enough actress to persuade him you love him, love all the things he does for you, he’ll be at your mercy. Men are such fools!’

  She spread her hands wide. ‘In any case, what have you got to lose? You and me can still see each other every day but instead of having my cast-offs you can buy your own clothes. Matt is a generous man, he’ll make you a good allowance.’

  ‘And in return I must sleep with him whenever he wants me.’

  ‘Lily! You exasperate me at times. Can’t you see what a fine opportunity this is? Matt could have any young girl he wanted.’

  ‘Exactly, so why does he want me when he doesn’t even
know me?’

  ‘He’s seen you about town with me, he thought you were a lady of quality. He couldn’t believe his luck when he learned you were a working girl without the protection of a man.’

  ‘So you offered me to him like a bargain package then?’ Lily felt weary; how could she face a liaison with another man? And yet what was the alternative? She could stay with Polly, keep accepting her generosity, but how much nicer it would be if she had a place of her own and an allowance to spend as she pleased.

  ‘I would want the house in my name,’ she said flatly. ‘I’ve been cheated out of one home by a long-lost relative. I don’t want that to happen again.’

  Polly sank back in her chair. ‘I think Matthew would be glad to give you a house.’ She smiled, dropping her cultured accent. ‘You’re not half a bad stick you know, in the looks department I mean.’ Polly sat back and assessed Lily. ‘Nice bosoms, small waist, good ankles.’ She laughed. ‘All the things a man wants in a mistress.’

  ‘No,’ Lily said, ‘not all the things. A man wants a mistress to be passionate, to look forward to going to his bed. I can never be like that.’

  ‘But you can pretend, you dumb cluck!’ Polly said. ‘Just moan a bit when he takes you to bed. Wriggle about a bit like you’re enjoying it.’ She grinned impishly. ‘He thinks he’s getting a virgin so if you’re a bit slow, like, he’ll put it all down to your modesty.’

  ‘Oh, Polly!’ Lily found herself smiling, appreciating the trouble her friend had gone to for her. And perhaps it would not be too bad, Matthew was old, he had a wife, surely Lily could put up with a bit of unpleasantness once in a while?

  ‘But, doesn’t he know I was married once?’ she asked quickly as the sound of laughter drifted in from the hall and Polly smiled. ‘I lied to him about that, made him keep off you, see? He’s thrilled to think he can give his business friend an untried girl.’