The Christmas Card

by Dilly Court

  ‘But what will Aiden say when he comes home?’

  ‘I hadn’t given it a thought for years, but I realise now that I can barely remember what he looks like. He stopped corresponding a long time ago, and I don’t have time to write more than once or twice a year. I imagine Mr Considine will take what is his and retire to Ireland, where he was born.’

  ‘Doesn’t that make you sad, Viola?’

  ‘Me, sad?’ Viola laughed and patted her on the cheek. ‘You dear, sweet innocent girl – my affair with Aiden ended the moment he was dragged from the court to the cells beneath. I’m fickle, Alice. I fear that I’m flighty like my late mother. I’m a silver butterfly like the one you gave my girl. I don’t think I’ve got the capacity for true love.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ Alice said slowly. ‘You adore Flora and you’d do anything for her. If that’s not true love I don’t know what is.’

  ‘Of course, but then Flora is part of me. You’ll understand that when you have children. Family is what really matters. You taught me that, Alice, but I only realise the truth of it now. She picked up her reticule. ‘Come on, let’s find a chop house. I’m starving.’

  In the weeks that followed, Alice went to work every day, preferring to use the small office in Wheat Sheaf Yard even though Viola had suggested that she do her designs in the comfort of the study in Hertford Street. Alice had thanked her, explaining that she needed to work closely with George, who was well versed in the technical side of printing. It transpired that he was also something of a poet, and when it came to greetings cards he had a talent for creating the sentiments that were to be conveyed. Alice was able to utilise many of her previous designs and sketches for Christmas cards, and it was decided that they would produce New Year greetings cards as well as Valentine cards, which had proved extremely popular. There were already beautiful embroidered silk cards available for those with the money to purchase them, but it was Alice’s ambition to produce equally attractive cards at a price that could be afforded by all. Her head was filled with a kaleidoscope of ideas, all jostling to be transposed onto paper. She thought of little else and spent long hours at her desk, arriving home at night red-eyed and exhausted, with ink-stained fingers and a feeling of fulfilment.

  ‘You’re working too hard,’ Viola said one evening over dinner.

  ‘There is so much to do, and colouring each card by hand is very time-consuming.’ Alice stared at the food on her plate; it looked and smelled delicious but she had little appetite.

  ‘Then we must invest in the most modern equipment.’ Viola placed her knife and fork at right angles on her plate. ‘I can’t have my partner falling into a decline from overwork. It’s ridiculous.’

  ‘It would be wonderful to see the prints coming off the press in colour,’ Alice admitted, stifling a yawn.

  ‘Then that is how it shall be. We have to keep ahead of our competitors or we might as well give up now. You said that Rory had been to Ireland to study the new process.’

  ‘Yes, he did.’

  ‘He’s accepted my invitation to Flora’s party, which is tomorrow, in case you’d forgotten. I suggest you tackle him on the subject. Find out what he thinks of chromolithography and if it’s worth the investment.’

  Alice pushed her plate away. ‘It’s not really appropriate to talk business at a party. Beside which, there’ll be so many people there …’

  ‘What are you afraid of, Alice?’ Viola snapped her fingers at Lipton, indicating that her wineglass was empty. She lowered her voice. ‘You know that the man is besotted with you so use it to your advantage. How do you think I’d have got on in business all these years if I hadn’t used every weapon I have in order to get what I want?’

  Lipton refilled Viola’s glass and returned to her position, hovering tactfully in the background.

  Alice rose from her seat. ‘I’m sure you did what you thought was right, but you must allow me the same freedom of choice. If you don’t mind I’ll go to my room now.’

  ‘I do mind,’ Viola said sharply. ‘Sit down and wait for dessert. You shouldn’t go to bed on an empty stomach.’

  Alice was too tired to argue and she slumped back onto her chair. ‘If you insist, but I doubt if I can eat another morsel.’

  Viola was silent while Lipton cleared the table. She waited until the maid had left the room. ‘You have to stop moping about Rory Dearborn, Alice. You told me that he’d declared his feelings for you, so stop behaving like a prim little puritan and admit that you’re in love with the fellow.’

  ‘I can’t put my trust in a man who treats everything as a joke. I think he just sees me as a challenge because I didn’t fall at his feet.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake give him a chance to put things right. Men are clumsy creatures at the best of times. They find it hard to put their feelings into words.’

  ‘Why do you care?’ Alice demanded angrily. ‘You keep telling me to use men for my own ends, and yet you want me to act like a silly schoolgirl when it comes to Rory Dearborn. You can’t blame me if I’m confused, Viola.’

  ‘Use him or marry him, I don’t care which, but please make up your mind which it’s to be.’ Viola drained her glass. ‘You’ll have a chance to speak to him tomorrow.’

  Alice was struggling to think of a response when Lipton entered carrying a silver salver, but instead of giving the contents to her mistress she approached Alice.

  ‘A messenger left this for you, miss. He didn’t wait for a reply.’

  ‘Is it a love letter, Alice?’ Viola asked, chuckling.

  Alice broke the seal and unfolded the paper. The bold handwriting danced before her eyes. ‘It’s from Rory,’ she said breathlessly. ‘He’s enclosed a leaflet giving details about the process we were just speaking about, and he’s returned the designs I did for Dearborns’. He’s given them back to me to use as I see fit.’

  Viola reached for the decanter and topped up her glass. She raised it in a toast. ‘Here’s to a true gentleman, and if that doesn’t prove that he loves you I don’t know what will. Marry him, Alice. That’s an order.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Gunter’s was packed with guests and Flora was surrounded by children. Rose and Carrie had brought the younger girls, but Alice was quick to notice that Ned, Charlie and Bill were absent.

  ‘They think they’re too grown-up to attend a children’s party,’ Carrie whispered. ‘But I think they’ll regret it when they hear of the delicious treats they’ve missed.’ She glanced at the tables set with dainty cakes, sparkling jellies and creamy blancmange. Glass dishes filled with ice cream rested on bowls of crushed ice and the centrepiece was a birthday cake covered in snowy white icing.

  ‘Flora seems to be enjoying herself,’ Alice said, smiling. ‘She’s been looking forward to this day. I hope nothing happens to spoil it for her.’

  ‘What could go wrong?’ Carrie glanced round the crowded tea shop. ‘Everyone seems to be having a wonderful time.’

  ‘I invited Molly,’ Alice said in a low voice, ‘but I’m not sure if she’ll come.’

  Carrie stared at her open-mouthed. ‘Why did you do such a thing? What happens if she brings her thugs with her?’

  ‘She won’t. At least, I don’t think she will. She’s Flora’s blood relation, Carrie. I believe she was misguided in her actions, but I know she’s sorry for what she put Flora through, and deep down I think she cares for her.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’ Carrie smiled dreamily. ‘I have some news for you, Alice.’

  Alice dragged her gaze back from Flora’s excited face. ‘You don’t mean …?’

  Carrie held up her left hand. ‘Bertie proposed and I accepted.’

  Alice enveloped her in a hug. ‘I’m so happy for you.’ She released her, eyeing her with a worried frown. ‘But what do your ma and pa think?’

  ‘They’re resigned to the fact that I’ll be marrying into a wealthy family,’ Carrie said with a gurgle of laughter. ‘They’ve got used to the idea, and I met
Bertie’s parents while you were away. They were very kind and didn’t seem to mind at all that I’m not from their class.’

  ‘You’re every bit as good as them, so don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.’ Alice squeezed Carrie’s hand. ‘You deserve to be happy.’

  ‘And what about you?’ Carrie’s attention wandered and she nudged Alice in the ribs. ‘I think the Dearborns have arrived, and Rory is with them.’

  Alice turned to see Frederick, who was his usual smiling self, but Lydia was obviously uncomfortable. She glanced round nervously as if she had just entered a den of iniquity, and she tightened her hold on Mary’s hand. Despite her reservations, Alice felt her heart lurch when she spotted Rory and, as if drawn together by some mysterious magnetic force, their eyes met. She hurried to greet the Dearborns.

  ‘How kind of you to come,’ she said, addressing herself to Lydia, who met her smile with a frosty stare.

  ‘It’s for Mary’s sake only. She’s been asking for Flora.’ Lydia looked Alice up and down as if assessing the cost of her magenta-silk afternoon gown. ‘We won’t stay long.’

  ‘Come now, my dear,’ Frederick said easily. ‘It’s a party and Mary is Flora’s guest.’ He leaned over, placing a small packet tied with a blue satin bow in Mary’s small hands. ‘That is for Flora. Go and give it to her, my love.’

  Mary looked up at Alice and smiled. ‘You’re the lady who saved us.’

  ‘She is indeed.’ Rory stepped forward. ‘We have a lot to thank her for, haven’t we, Lydia?’ He turned to his sister-in-law, waiting for her response.

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Lydia’s expression softened from chilly to lukewarm. ‘Mary is a delight and we’re now her legal guardians. Her aunt was more than happy to allow us to adopt the child, so some good has come out of your interfering ways. We already love her as if she were our flesh and blood.’

  Frederick took his wife by the arm. ‘Come, my dear. I want to introduce you to our hostess, Mrs Considine.’

  ‘I didn’t realise you were acquainted with that woman,’ Lydia said in a loud whisper as her husband hurried her away.

  Rory grinned in answer to Alice’s unspoken question. ‘Mrs Considine is well known in the City, but I doubt if that will satisfy Lydia. Poor Freddie will be put through a thorough interrogation when they are on their own.’

  ‘I’m glad that Mary has found a good home,’ Alice said, changing the subject. ‘She’s a dear little thing and your sister-in-law seems genuinely fond of her.’ She kept her gaze focused on Flora and Mary, who were dancing up and down and hugging each other. ‘I’m so pleased that she allowed Mary to come today.’

  ‘She could hardly refuse. Mary is always asking about Flora and it’s obvious they formed a special bond while they were in that dreadful school.’

  Alice nodded. ‘That’s true.’ She struggled to find the right words; it was difficult to concentrate on anything other than the fact he was standing so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. Despite the crowded room she felt as though they were set apart from the rest of the guests. The achingly familiar scent of him brought back memories of his kiss, and the warmth of his body wrapped around her like a hug. Moving away was not an option in the press of people, but she had to restrain herself from edging even closer. She took a deep breath in an attempt to bring some sense back to her scattered thoughts. ‘Thank you for returning my drawings. It was very kind of you.’

  ‘Morally they’re yours, Alice. In any case we’ve decided not to go further with greetings cards. We’ve enough business to keep us going for now, although we might decide to review our options in the future.’

  She shot him a curious glance. ‘Is it because of me? I wouldn’t want you to lose business on my account.’

  ‘You have such a tender conscience. If you’re to make a fortune you need to have a ruthless streak, like your aunt.’ He held up his hands. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I admire her dedication and her determination to win at all costs.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s a compliment,’ Alice said, frowning. ‘Viola has had to struggle to survive, and she’s overcome everything to come out on top. You can’t hold that against her just because she’s a woman—’ She broke off, realising that his attention was elsewhere. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I think another obstacle has just walked in,’ he said softly.

  Alice spun round and, following his gaze, she saw Molly standing in the doorway. For once Molly Bishop did not seem threatening, or perhaps it was because she had seen her at her worst, laid low and suffering from a cold like any ordinary mortal. Even more surprising, perhaps, Molly had dressed for the occasion in a fashionable scarlet cashmere Garibaldi jacket trimmed with black braid, worn over an embroidered chemisette and a dark blue wool merino skirt. Her wild curls had been tamed into a sleek chignon and her hat was a replica of an officer’s shako. She stood at the edge of the crowd and for the first time Alice realised that Molly Bishop was not as bold as she liked to make out. Without the backing of Eric the Axe she appeared to be smaller and quite defenceless. Alice left Rory and made her way through the press of people.

  ‘Molly, I’m so glad you came.’

  ‘I ain’t so sure I done the right thing,’ Molly said doubtfully. ‘This ain’t the sort of place I’m accustomed to.’

  ‘Then it’s high time you came out of the shadows.’ Alice took her by the hand and guided her to where Viola was standing a little apart from everyone else, watching her daughter with a fond smile as Flora tucked into jelly and blancmange. ‘Viola, look who’s come to wish Flora well on her special day.’

  Viola turned her head and her smile froze. ‘So you decided to come?’

  ‘I ain’t come to create no fuss.’ Molly glanced round nervously. ‘Me and Flora are blood kin and I don’t mean her no harm.’

  Viola took a step towards her, eyeing the knife that lay in readiness to cut the birthday cake. Alice snatched it up and hid it behind her back. ‘Molly means what she says. She wants to get to know Flora and she’s promised to reform.’ She nodded to Molly. ‘You’re going to leave the gang, aren’t you?’

  Molly recoiled, frowning. ‘I don’t remember saying that.’

  ‘But you inferred it,’ Alice insisted. ‘You want the best for Flora and you can’t achieve that if you’re in prison, can you?’

  ‘I’m too fly to get caught.’

  ‘And you’re too clever to waste your life running away from the law,’ Alice said firmly. She turned to Viola. ‘She means it. You have to give her a chance. After all, you loved her brother – you both loved Edmond, and you both love Flora. It’s stupid to fight.’

  Viola fumbled in her reticule and brought out a silver cigarillo case. She flicked it open and offered it to Molly. ‘My head tells me that this is madness, but I did love Eddie, and I know you loved him too. Maybe we can be civil to each other.’

  Molly took a cigarillo and waited while Viola struck a match and lit it for her. She blew smoke into the air above their heads and a grim smile curved her rouged lips. ‘Well, never let it be said that Molly Bishop ain’t able to change for the better. If you’ll let me see the kid sometimes I’ll try to be a better person.’

  ‘There, you can’t ask more of anyone than that, can you, Viola?’ Alice replaced the knife, satisfied that it was not going to be used in anger.

  ‘I’ll believe it when I see it happen.’ Viola drew on her cigarillo, squinting at Molly through a thin veil of smoke. ‘Swear it on Eddie’s grave and I’ll think about it.’

  Molly crossed herself. ‘If it makes you happy I swear on my brother’s grave that I will never do anything to harm his child.’ She flicked ash onto the floor. ‘I only wanted to get close to her in the first place, you silly cow. I never intended to do the things I said. I’d cut me right hand off afore I’d harm the nipper.’

  ‘I paid you a king’s ransom to get my child back. You owe me, Molly Bishop.’

  ‘Took it and spent it. Bought meself a house in Spital
fields and I lives there amongst respectable folks. You wouldn’t want Flora to visit her auntie in Blossom Street, now would you?’

  ‘And what about Eric?’ Alice asked nervously. ‘Are you still living with an axe murderer?’

  ‘He never chopped no one up with an axe, dearie. He got his name because he used to cut wood for a charcoal burner out Essex way. Eric’s got a heart of gold beneath his tattoos. I might even go all the way and marry him, if that makes a difference.’

  Realising that she could do no more and that Viola and Molly would sort out their differences without her help, Alice made her way across the floor to where Rory was chatting with her mother and Horace.

  ‘Thank you for coming, Ma.’ Alice kissed her mother’s pink cheek. ‘You’re looking well.’

  Beth smiled happily. ‘Married life suits me, darling, but you’re looking peaky. Are you working too hard?’

  ‘You need to be careful, Alice,’ Horace said, nodding. ‘Overwork for a lady can lead to debilitation and overwrought nerves.’

  ‘I think Alice looks a picture of health,’ Rory said stoutly. ‘I don’t see Mrs Hubble here today?’ he added innocently. ‘Is she unwell? Or perhaps suffering from the strain of contributing to her many charities?’

  Horace coughed and cleared his throat, a dull flush rising above his stiff white collar to stain his cheeks. His moustache bristled and Alice stifled a giggle. ‘My cousin is a righteous woman, sir,’ he said angrily. ‘She lives by strict rules, which we must all respect.’

  Beth laid her hand on his arm. ‘Come now, my dear. We all know that Jane is a sanctimonious, penny-pinching bore.’

  ‘I think you’re forgetting that it was Jane who purchased our house for us,’ Horace said stiffly. ‘We owe her a lot.’

  ‘And we’re never allowed to forget it.’ Beth tossed her head. ‘I see cake and ice cream. Do you think I might be allowed to join the children at tea?’ She grasped Alice’s arm. ‘But first I must greet Viola. I’m afraid I treated her rather badly all those years ago when she came to us for help. I could have done so much more for her. I hope she’ll forgive me.’