by Dilly Court
Phoebe hesitated at the foot of the steep staircase as a pale-faced girl leaned over the banisters. Dark curls framed an oval face and her large brown eyes were fringed with thick lashes. She smiled but her expression changed as Judy pushed Phoebe aside and mounted the first step, rolling up her sleeves as if she meant business. ‘I can see you, Rose Jackson. You and your old man owe three weeks’ rent. I want it by suppertime or you can look for digs elsewhere.’ She shook her fist as Rose disappeared from view. ‘I should have known better than to take entertainers, they’re a fly-by-night lot.’ She glared at Phoebe. ‘Well, go on then. What are you waiting for? And remember, girl. This is only temporary. Don’t go running away with the idea that Judy Edwards is a soft mark.’
Chapter Seven
WITH AN EXASPERATED tut-tutting sound Judy went on ahead, still mumbling beneath her breath. The passageway was dark and narrow with doors leading off on either side, but these were firmly closed. A staircase at the end of the corridor led down to a large basement kitchen with a flagstone floor and a blackleaded range which took up at least half the space along one wall. A fire burned in the grate and a large black kettle bubbled cheerily on the hob. Pots and pans hung from the low beamed ceiling and a scrubbed pine table with benches on either side stretched almost the complete length of the room. The remnants of a meal lay where they had been abandoned and the stone sink was piled high with dirty dishes. Judy, it seemed, was not a very efficient housekeeper.
Annie looked around with her lips pursed and Phoebe knew instinctively that her mother was about to say something scathing. ‘This is very kind of you, Cousin Judy,’ she said quickly, before Annie could open her mouth.
‘Being too kind is my greatest failing,’ Judy said gloomily. ‘People take advantage of my good nature.’ She set about making a pot of tea. ‘Sit down, for goodness’ sake. You’re making the place untidy.’
Annie made a point of dusting the bench before she took a seat, but Dolly flopped down on the floor, spreading her legs wide so that she looked like a rag doll that a bored child had discarded. ‘I’m tired,’ she said, leaning back against the brick wall and closing her eyes.
‘Is she always like this?’ Judy demanded, warming the pot with hot water from the kettle. ‘Not all there?’
‘Dolly’s had a hard time,’ Phoebe said, leaping to her defence. ‘She had an operation on her head.’
‘That accounts for it.’ Judy finished making the tea and left it to brew while she searched for cups on a dresser crammed with oddments of china, household ledgers, broken ornaments and candle stubs stuck onto saucers and pot lids. ‘Who is she anyway? Not one of yours by the looks of her, Annie.’
‘Certainly not.’ Annie bridled visibly. ‘Anyone would think I was a woman of easy virtue if they listened to you, Moody.’
Unabashed, Judy poured the tea. ‘So who’s the father of this one? I don’t see a husband hanging on your coat tails.’
‘It’s a long story,’ Phoebe said without giving her mother a chance to launch into an account of her affair with a much younger man who just happened to belong to a notorious street gang. ‘If we might have something to eat, please, cousin? I can pay.’
Judy eyed her suspiciously. ‘So if you ain’t broke how is it that you came here looking for lodgings? What’s going on?’ She turned to Annie. ‘What happened to your old man? And why aren’t you off to Italy, as normal?’
Annie choked into her teacup. ‘Paulo’s dead. He was killed by the high mob ten years ago.’
‘So the nipper isn’t his then? Ma would be spinning in her grave if she could see you now. She always said you’d come to a sticky end.’
‘That’s cruel, Judy, even for you. But then you was always spiteful.’
Judy cleared a space on the table with a sweep of her arm and began slicing a loaf of bread. ‘I speak as I find. So are you going to tell me the truth or do I have to guess?’
Annie covered her eyes with her hand. ‘I can’t. It’s too painful.’
‘Then I will.’ Phoebe launched into an explanation making it as brief as possible, interrupted by occasional snores from Dolly, who had fallen asleep on the floor.
Judy listened attentively while she buttered the bread and carved slices from a leg of boiled mutton. ‘So you’re running away then? I guessed as much.’
‘Just until the baby is born,’ Phoebe said, eyeing the food and realising that she was extremely hungry. ‘We need to find somewhere to stay until the New Year. Then we’ll return to London.’
‘With a baby in tow.’ Judy raised her eyebrows. ‘No one will think it strange, of course.’
‘I’ll tell Ned,’ Annie said, snatching the plate that Judy offered her. ‘When he sees our child he’ll do the right thing by me.’
‘You always was soft in the head, girl.’ Judy took a plate over to Dolly and prodded her with the toe of her boot. ‘Wake up, sleeping beauty.’
Dolly opened her eyes. ‘I was dreaming about dinner.’
‘Well here it is. You can earn your keep by helping Phoebe do the washing up when you’ve eaten.’
‘Ta, miss.’ Dolly snatched the plate and began cramming bread and meat into her mouth.
Judy took a seat in a Windsor chair by the range. ‘Well now. You’re all in a pretty pickle, I must say. How do you propose to support yourselves during the long winter months?’
‘I’m a clairvoyant.’ Annie said proudly. ‘I do séances and table tipping. I read the crystal ball and tell people their fortunes.’
‘And no one’s ever found you out as a cheat and a liar?’
Annie almost choked on a mouthful of cold lamb. ‘That’s not fair, Judy. I can see into the future and I do get messages from the other side.’
‘It’s a pity you didn’t foresee that little complication, isn’t it?’ Judy said, staring at Annie’s swollen belly.
‘He’s not a complication,’ Annie cried angrily. ‘My son will be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’ She shot an apologetic glance at Phoebe. ‘Next to you, of course, ducks. You’re a good girl and I dunno what I’d have done without you.’
Phoebe put her empty plate down on the table. ‘Ta for the food, Cousin Judy. I’ll do the dishes and then we’ll be on our way. We need to find somewhere to stay before dark, and the nights are drawing in.’
Judy shrugged her thin shoulders. ‘There’s no hurry. Tell the truth I’m enjoying the diversion. For years I slaved away running this lodging house for Ma, and looked after her while she was ill. Now it’s nice to see other people in a worse state than myself. I might even let you stay for a few days, if you don’t mind sharing the attic room with the spiders and mice.’
Dolly clambered to her feet. ‘I don’t mind spiders and I once had a pet mouse. He used to come out at night and keep me company when the others was asleep, but he died. Everything dies in the end.’
‘We won’t think about that now,’ Phoebe said, giving her an encouraging smile. ‘Let’s get this mess cleared away and then perhaps Cousin Judy would show us where we can put our things.’
‘Like I said before, it’s only temporary, so don’t get ideas about staying here for the winter.’ Judy rose to her feet and unhooked a bunch of keys from a nail in a beam over her head. She handed it to Phoebe. ‘It’s the door opposite the stairs on the top floor. And call me Judy. I’m your ma’s cousin for my sins, not yours, and we won’t go into the second cousin business. Just Judy will do nicely.’
‘It’s very good of you, Judy.’ Annie made an attempt to rise but sank back onto the bench with a sigh. ‘If I might go to our room I’d like to rest awhile. I get very tired these days and we’ve had a long journey.’
Judy eyed her askance. ‘Rest now then, but don’t think you’re going to get away with lazing about when there’s work to do. I earn my living by taking in lodgers. They’re entertainers for the most part, although some of them take other jobs in the winter. There’s not much call for Punch and Judy on the beach in November.’
‘Punch and Judy.’ Dolly stared at her open-mouthed. ‘Does he punch you, miss? I wouldn’t let him stay here if I was you.’
Judy turned to Phoebe, frowning. ‘Take her with you. I’ve no patience with simpletons, and to save the poor soul racking what’s left of her brains we’ll call it the Punch and Jessie show. It’s an embarrassment having my name plastered all over the seafront in summer. I wish the old girl had called me anything but Judy.’
‘Come along, Dolly.’ Phoebe reached out to take her hand. ‘Let’s go upstairs to see the spiders and mice. You might find a pet amongst them.’
As they left the room, Dolly glanced over her shoulder at Judy. ‘She don’t have no bruises, Phoebe. If he punches her he does it so they won’t show. That’s what Ma did to me until she forgot herself.’
‘For God’s sake stop babbling, Dolly.’ Annie turned on her with an exasperated sigh. ‘You’re making my head spin with your idiotic prattle.’
‘I ain’t an idiot,’ Dolly whispered in Phoebe’s ear. ‘Am I?’
Phoebe gave her a hug. ‘Ma’s in a delicate condition and she’s worn out. You take one of her bags and I’ll take the other. Let’s see what Judy’s attic has to offer.’
The room was long and low-ceilinged with a window in the roof that when prised open overlooked the sea. The rain-washed slates glistened as a pale sun forced its way between the dark clouds and glinted in golden lights off the pebbles as the ebb tide licked the shore. Until today Phoebe had only seen the sea when they crossed the Channel on the packet boat, and then she had marvelled at its vast expanse and the power of the foam-flecked waves. Listening now, in the quiet at the top of the house, the sound of the waves on the foreshore was like music to her ears, with only the mournful cries of the seagulls wheeling overhead and the occasional rumble of a horse-drawn vehicle to break the hypnotic rhythm. After the noisy hubbub of London it seemed like paradise. She had loved the great blue lakes in northern Italy but there was something endless and timeless about the sea. When she stood on the busy wharves overlooking the river she could imagine the muddy waters of the Thames flowing into the North Sea, and being cleansed by inclusion in the vast body of salt water.
‘Here, shut that bloody window, I’ll catch me death of cold.’
Her mother’s voice broke into her reverie and Phoebe did as she was told, but even though the grimy windowpanes shut out the sea and sky, she knew they were still there.
‘This is disgusting,’ Annie said, prodding the straw palliasse with her foot. ‘I’m not sleeping on the floor for anyone. I suppose Judy thinks this is funny.’
Phoebe glanced round the room, which was just an open space beneath the rafters. There were signs that it had been used recently, but the previous occupants had not bothered to make their quarters habitable. Perhaps maidservants had slept up here in bygone days when the family had money, but the cobwebs and bare floorboards bore testament to the fact that this part of the house had been neglected for a very long time. Annie sneezed as a cloud of dust rose up like a spectre from the bedding. ‘It’s nothing that a bit of elbow grease won’t cure, Ma,’ Phoebe said hopefully. ‘We’ll take the palliasses down to the yard and I’ll give them a good beating.’
‘They’re probably running with fleas and lice. I’m used to a feather bed.’ Annie sat down on a spindly chair which wobbled dangerously, one leg appearing to be shorter than the others. ‘I’d sooner sleep on the beach than up here.’
Phoebe went to her side and slipped her arm around her mother’s shoulders. ‘You’re exhausted, Ma. We’ll make ourselves as comfortable as possible for tonight and then in the morning I’ll go out and find somewhere else for us to stay. It’s just one night and it will offend Judy if we don’t accept her offer.’
‘Bah!’ Annie almost spat the word at her. ‘Judy is a bitch. She always was and she’s not changed. No doubt she’s thoroughly enjoying the sight of me in my present condition and with no man to protect me. She was always jealous of me. I won’t stay where I’m not wanted. We’re leaving first thing in the morning, and that’s that.’
Next morning at breakfast Phoebe came face to face with Judy’s lodgers. Annie had remained in bed, saying that she was unwell and refusing to take even a cup of weak tea, but Dolly was eager to meet their fellow residents. She perched on the end of the bench munching toast as she listened to the introductions being made by Judy, who was in charge of the enormous brown china teapot and named each person as she refilled their cups. The first to greet them was a large man with a flaming red beard and a bald pate, which made his head look as though it had been put on upside down. He half rose from his seat. ‘Good morning, ladies. I am Herbert Jackson, entertainer and puppeteer.’ He motioned Phoebe to sit down and squeezed onto the bench beside her. ‘I give the Punch and …’ Receiving a fierce look from Judy he corrected himself. ‘I give the Punch and the person we do not name in this house shows on the beach.’
‘With my help, Poppa,’ Rose said chirpily. ‘Don’t forget me.’ She smiled at Phoebe and reached across the table to shake her hand. ‘I’m the one who gets the bookings and takes the money from the audience. I’m the business brains, aren’t I, Poppa?’
‘You are, my pet.’ Herbert smiled indulgently. ‘My little Rose is my right hand, so to speak. When her mother passed on she took over my management and saved me from sinking into a life of drink and debt.’
‘Ma ran off with the theatre manager in Bournemouth,’ Rose said, her smile fading. ‘They went to Blackpool and that was the last we heard of them, but we manage well enough on our own.’
‘We do, my dove.’ Herbert turned to a small man with mutton-chop whiskers and a waxed moustache who had nudged him in the ribs. ‘What is it, Fred, old chap?’
‘My introduction, cully. Don’t forget the supporting acts.’
Herbert inclined his head. ‘Of course. I’m sorry, I was forgetting my manners. Miss Giamatti, may I introduce Fred Jones, also known as Armando Janos, who is by profession a world famous sword swallower and juggler.’
Fred smiled modestly. ‘That is true, but out of season I clean windows. My former act as a high wire walker gave me a head for heights, until I fell and broke my leg in three places. I’m a martyr to rheumatism, Miss Giamatti, but I can still climb a ladder, although it gets harder each winter.’
Phoebe smiled and nodded but was prevented from responding by the woman seated next to Rose on the opposite side of the table. ‘And I am Madame Galina Lavrovna. I trained at the Imperial Ballet School in St Petersburg and performed for the crown heads of Europe.’
‘That was several lifetimes ago, love.’
All heads turned to the small woman seated at the far end of the table. She looked round with a pained expression on her wizened features. ‘I only speak the truth.’
Madame Galina subsided into her double chins, blushing furiously. ‘That was cruel, Augusta, even by your standards. I was the toast of St Petersburg for a whole season.’
‘And now you are burnt toast, love.’ Augusta winked at Phoebe, mouthing the words ‘she drinks’.
‘That’s not fair, Gussie. Everyone likes a drop of something warming in the winter to keep out the cold.’ Madame Galina cast an appealing glance at Phoebe. ‘I daresay you like a tot of buttered rum punch on a bitter winter’s night, don’t you, love?’
‘Well, I er …’ Phoebe looked to Herbert for help but he shook his head. ‘Sometimes, Madame,’ she said, not wanting to hurt the woman’s feelings. ‘But I’d love to hear about the Russian ballet when you have time.’
‘Oh, she’s got time, love,’ Gussie said, reaching for another slice of toast. ‘Her ladyship works behind the bar in a pub. How have the mighty fallen.’
Madame Galina subsided in a flood of tears, covering her face with a large white handkerchief.
‘That was unkind, Gussie,’ Rose said in an undertone. ‘Why do you always have to upset her?’
‘Because now I’ve got a chance to get my own back and
I enjoy it.’
‘What do you do now, Miss Augusta?’ Phoebe asked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the unfortunate Galina.
Gussie squinted short-sightedly at her. ‘Ho, I see someone’s got manners round here. Well, young lady, I’ll tell you what I do. I spend my days making bonnets for rich women with more money than taste. I could still have my job in the theatre if it wasn’t for Madame’s weakness for grog. The dreadful addiction to strong drink lost her every booking she ever had.’
‘I don’t know why you stay with her then, Augusta,’ Judy said, refilling her cup with yet more tea. ‘Why don’t you move on?’
Madame Galina blew her nose loudly. ‘I’m still here,’ she muttered. ‘I heard everything you said, you bitch, Gussie.’
Ignoring her quivering friend, Gussie turned her attention to Judy. ‘I pay me rent, don’t I? I don’t owe you nothing, Judy Edwards.’
‘That’s true, but you give us all earache with your continual sniping at poor Galina. Leave her alone, I say. Or find some other digs.’ Judy slammed the teapot down on the table. ‘I’m sick of listening to you carping day in, day out. It’s your choice, Augusta. I could fill your room ten times over without any bother.’
Dolly, who had been silently absorbing this interchange from the beginning whilst munching toast and jam, suddenly burst into tears. ‘Please don’t shout at each other.’
Phoebe put her arm around Dolly’s shoulders. ‘She’s a bit sensitive since the operation.’
‘Operation?’ It was said in a chorus as all eyes turned to Dolly, the differences between Augusta and Galina apparently forgotten.
Dolly pulled off her mobcap to reveal her shaven head and the livid scar on the side of her skull. ‘They cut me brain. I’m a phenomenon, whatever that means. The doctors told me so.’
‘Wonderful,’ Herbert cried enthusiastically. ‘She would make an excellent side show. People would pay good money to see a phenomenon.’
‘Dolly’s not for show,’ Phoebe said hastily. ‘She’s still on the road to recovery and needs rest.’
