The Girls of Ennismore

by Patricia Falvey

  Rosie shifted on the bed, fighting the guilt that crept over her. Poor Ma.

  ‘Rosie, what did we do to you? If you’d explained what was wrong we could have fixed it. You didn’t have to run away.’

  ‘Nobody could fix it,’ Rosie blurted out. She immediately wished she could take the words back, but pressed on, hoping Victoria hadn’t heard her. ‘And I told you, I didn’t run away. I sensed Bridie was in trouble and I was right, she is. She’s living in poverty here in Dublin with a drunken husband and a sick child. I’d been trying to find work so I could help her, but there was no work to be had. And when your aunt offered me the chance to find a husband I grasped at it. There seemed no other choice.’

  Victoria reached over and patted Rosie’s arm. ‘That’s terrible, Rosie. Poor Bridie. Could you not have arranged to bring her and the child back home with you?’

  ‘No, the shame would be too much for her, God help her. Besides, that drunken lout she’s married to would find her and drag her back. And even if he didn’t, I don’t think she would leave him. He’s her child’s father, after all, and she believes she’s made her bed and must lie in it. Poor Bridie.’

  Victoria leaned back on her chair. ‘Valentine and I were both hoping we would run into you in Dublin. He told me he had found out from your mother where Bridie lived.’

  Rosie was appalled. ‘For God’s sake, he didn’t go there, did he?’

  ‘Not yet, we only arrived a few days ago. But I know he intended to. And then there you were, at the ball at the Metropole Hotel. I’m sure he was delighted to see you. You two used to be such great friends.’ Victoria paused. ‘He’s downstairs,’ she went on. ‘Won’t you see him?’

  Rosie shook her head vigorously. ‘No.’

  They lapsed into silence again. Voices drifted up from downstairs. Rosie stood up.

  ‘I have to be going.’

  Victoria rose and grasped Rosie by both arms. ‘Please, please, Rosie, come back with me to Ennismore. There’s nothing for you here, you said yourself you can’t help your sister and there is no work. Where else is there for you to go? Come back home where we care about you.’

  Rosie fought back tears as she looked into her friend’s solemn face. The word ‘home’ had moved her more than she could bear. She knew Victoria meant every word she said. Dear Victoria.

  ‘No, I can’t, Victoria. I can’t face them.’

  Victoria grasped her harder. ‘Come for my sake then. You have no idea how lonely it is for me. I have no one to talk to, no one to confide in. Sofia is preoccupied with the baby, and you yourself know there’s no talking to either Mama or Aunt Louisa. And Valentine has changed. We used to be able to laugh together, but I haven’t even seen him smile in an age.’

  A flash of anger hit Rosie and she pulled away from Victoria.

  ‘Come back just to keep you company?’ She let out a bitter laugh. ‘Nothing changes, does it, Victoria? That’s all you ever wanted me for, isn’t it? And when you went off to Dublin and made your new friends you cast me aside. Now you’re stuck back at Ennismore, bored and lonely, and you think you can snap your fingers and I’ll come running. Well I won’t do it. I’ll not let you use me any more!’

  Victoria bowed her head. ‘You’re right, Rosie. I did use you. I suppose all of us did.’

  Rosie shrugged. ‘None of it matters now anyway. I have to go.’

  Victoria nodded. Tears clouded her blue eyes.

  ‘I’ll go down and distract them so that you can get out without being seen. Goodbye, Rosie. I wish you all the best.’

  With that, Victoria left. Rosie waited until she heard her enter the drawing room and then, quietly as she could, crept down the back stairs and out through the gate in the wall of the tiny, rear garden. She did not look back at the house on Fitzwilliam Square.

  While Rosie and Victoria were talking upstairs, Lady Ennis paced back and forth across Lady Marianne’s drawing room. Neither Valentine nor Victoria had been able to dissuade her from coming to Fitzwilliam Square to confront her sister-in-law once more.

  ‘You said all there was to say last night, Mama,’ said Valentine. ‘Please leave things as they are.’

  ‘He’s right, Mama,’ Victoria echoed. ‘You have done enough harm.’

  Lady Ennis glowered at her children. How dare they both turn against her in this manner?

  ‘That peasant girl has a hold on you both that I cannot understand. If I were foolish enough to believe in all the tomfoolery the native Irish spout I would wager that she had put a curse on you. How else could she persuade you to turn against your family and your class?’

  ‘That is an exaggeration, Mother,’ said Victoria, ‘but if we have it’s because of the scandalous way you have treated her.’

  Lady Ennis set her face in a hard line. She refused to argue with her children any more. ‘Fetch the carriage, Valentine.’

  As she rode to Fitzwilliam Square, Lady Ennis savoured thoughts of the encounter ahead. So often she had wanted to express her outrage at Edward’s sister for all the embarrassments, the slights and the petty, veiled criticisms the woman had tossed her way, but for the sake of harmony, and concern for Edward’s temper, she had restrained herself. If she were honest, she would admit that she was less concerned with the fact that the servant girl had dared to behave above her station than the fact that Lady Marianne had orchestrated it. But in doing so, Lady Marianne had finally handed her the perfect opportunity to confront her sister-in-law with all the venom she had accumulated towards that lady over the years of her marriage.

  When they arrived, Victoria excused herself to go upstairs, while Valentine slumped sulkily on a corner chair. Lady Ennis had refused to sit down and have tea when Lady Marianne offered it. She was primed for battle and did not want to lose her momentum. She did not notice that Lady Marianne’s expression was as fierce as her own.

  ‘As I said last night, Marianne, I am outraged that you should have undertaken such a ruse. You have no doubt tarnished your reputation irrevocably, and by doing so have compromised that of the Bell family also.’

  ‘You mean tarnished your reputation, you insufferable snob!’

  Lady Marianne’s outburst took Lady Ennis aback. How dare this woman address her this way? She looked around for an ally but her son sat mute while that insufferable Mr Kearney laughed out loud. Well, she was not having it.

  ‘I shall ignore that remark, Marianne. Nothing excuses what you have done to this family. What on earth would possess you to do such a thing other than to embarrass me? I am certain it was not out of concern for that girl’s welfare. You didn’t even know her.’

  ‘No, I did not know her, but there was something appealing about her. Perhaps it was her honesty and total lack of guile that drew me to her. I saw immediately what huge potential she had, and she was so humble she did not even recognize it in herself.’ Lady Marianne paused and sighed. ‘But how could someone like you understand the idea of wanting to help a person less fortunate than yourself? You live in a world, Thea, of which you are the very centre, and no one, not even your own children, can breach that position.’

  ‘Do not change the subject! If it wasn’t your idea to embarrass me then it must have come from this odious little man who follows you around like a pet poodle.’

  Lady Ennis glared at Mr Kearney who, rather than cowering or showing anger, stood up and bowed, flourishing the brightly coloured silk handkerchief from his suit pocket in her direction.

  She took in a deep breath. She felt her face grow hot, and sweat began to trickle down the nape of her neck. This was not going as well as she had expected. If only Edward or Louisa were here to support her. But as she thought about it she realized that neither of them would have backed her up. Weaklings, all of them. Her anger threatened to explode. It was all that peasant girl’s fault. She had been a curse on the family since she had come to Ennismore.

  ‘Where is that young trollop now?’

  Valentine jumped up and stormed to the door. ‘
I can’t listen to any more of this. I am going for a walk.’

  ‘She is upstairs,’ said Lady Marianne, sitting down next to Mr Kearney. ‘I intend to go up and apologize to her as soon as you leave.’

  Lady Ennis’s legs grew weak and she felt all the air ebb out of her lungs. Holding on to a side table, she eased herself onto a chair. What on earth was wrong with these people? Apologize? To a servant? Had the world turned suddenly upside down?

  Lady Marianne kept speaking, as if to herself. ‘I must admit, in the beginning I thought of the whole idea as a lark. What fun to be able to put one over on the stuffy society matrons of Dublin? And Rosalind – er, Rosie – was perfect. She was beautiful, well-spoken and her manners were impeccable. Anyone meeting her would have readily assumed she was a lady.’

  Lady Ennis sniffed. ‘All thanks to the education and grooming she was given at Ennismore, and still she was ungrateful. She refused to become Victoria’s maid when she was asked, and then ran off because the life of a servant did not appear to suit her.’

  Lady Marianne ignored her. ‘As I said, it would have been so easy with a girl like her, and we were well on our way before you interfered, Thea. So many young men were showing an interest.’ She reached for Mr Kearney’s hand. ‘But what we did not stop to think about, dear Mr Kearney, was the disservice that we were doing to Rosie.’

  Mr Kearney nodded. ‘She would have been found out sooner or later, I suppose.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lady Marianne, ‘but I had hoped by then her suitor would have been so much in love with her that her station would not have mattered to him.’ She turned to Lady Ennis. ‘What I did was rash, Thea, but not because it tarnished your reputation. Or mine! I don’t give a fig what the Dublin matrons think of me. No, what I have done has devastated an innocent young woman who put her trust in me. I am determined now to make it up to her in any way I can.’ She stood up. ‘If you will excuse me, I will go up and talk to her now.’

  Just then Victoria entered the room.

  ‘It’s too late, Aunt Marianne,’ she said, ‘Rosie’s gone.’

  Lady Marianne sighed. ‘Quel dommage!’

  Lady Ennis took the opportunity to make her exit. She stood and smoothed out her skirts. ‘Victoria,’ she said, ‘your brother has rudely deserted us. Go and fetch the carriage. We are going back to Merrion Square and have Fox pack our things. From there we shall leave immediately for Ennismore. I have had enough of Dublin. Good-day, Marianne.’

  CHAPTER 15

  She saw him as soon as she turned the corner into Foley Court. He sat on the front steps of number six, leaning to one side away from the dishevelled women who had settled beside him. She could only imagine what vulgar remarks they were making at his expense. A few hours before she would have enjoyed seeing his discomfort, believing he deserved this and more. But now, her anger blunted, a faint wave of pity filled her. He was clearly enduring this humiliation in order to see her, the least she could do was rescue him. Taking a deep breath, she marched up to the steps and, ignoring the taunts of Bridie’s neighbours, took him by the arm and pulled him up.

  ‘You’ve no business here.’

  Valentine looked up at her. ‘I came to see you, Rosie. I was prepared to wait all day.’

  ‘Be glad your wait’s over then. Come on out of this before these ones eat you alive,’ she said, ignoring the women’s lewd gestures. ‘We’ll go and have a cup of tea.’

  Valentine reached for her bag and allowed her to lead him away from number six towards Sackville Street. They must have looked an odd pair, Rosie thought, as they walked arm in arm – he an obvious gentleman, she, at best, a lowly clerk or shop girl. It wasn’t just their clothes that gave them away – his well-cut grey suit with crisp white shirt and silk cravat, her well-worn, unfashionable wool skirt and tweed jacket – but rather their bearing. Valentine carried himself in the confident, upright manner of the gentry, while Rosie’s head was bowed in the way of poor country-folk self-conscious in the company of their betters. Some of her old anger shot through her at the thought. She raised her head and stuck out her chin in stubborn, silent confrontation directed at everyone who looked at her.

  They reached the café where Rosie had spent so many mornings in the past perusing the newspapers in desperate hope of work. She was glad to get away from the clamour of traffic and the humidity of the July afternoon, but inside there was no refuge to be had. The heat from steaming kettles and hot ovens was worse than outside. Her skin turned clammy with sweat and she longed to remove her jacket, but to do so would be bad form. Enviously, she eyed other young women fanning themselves, sleeves of blouses rolled up and buttons undone at their throats. Valentine ordered tea from a thin-lipped waitress who eyed Rosie with suspicion.

  They sat staring at each other, their silence punctuated only by the clang of the bell as the café door opened and closed. Rosie found herself flushing beneath his scrutiny. She tried to summon her anger towards him – anger that was so easy to conjure when he had not been sitting in front of her, his blue eyes fixed on her face. She must not let her guard down, she thought. God help her she must not let herself be hurt again. She could not bear it. She gathered her strength.

  ‘What do you want, Valentine? Surely there’s no more to be said between us.’

  He reached for her hand but she pulled it away. ‘I want your forgiveness.’

  ‘You have nothing to be forgiven for,’ she said. ‘You told me not to wait for you. You were very clear about that.’ The waitress set a cup of tea gently in front of Valentine, then slammed a second cup in front of Rosie so that the liquid splashed out into the saucer. Rosie ignored the slight and went on speaking. ‘I was the one who didn’t believe you. I was the one who held out hope you might come back to me.’

  She realized she revealed more than she meant to. But what did it matter now? Her hand shook as she picked up her tea cup, sending more liquid spilling into the saucer, but Valentine did not move.

  ‘I really did love you, Rosie. I still do.’

  She wanted to tell him that she loved him too, that she would never love anyone else, but she could not force those words out of her mouth. She had been humiliated enough. Her old friend, anger, came to her rescue. She pushed the teacup away and stood up.

  ‘Stop it!’ she said, ignoring the customers who had turned to stare. ‘What is it you want, Valentine? To have a mistress as well as your wife just like the rest of your kind? Well I won’t do it. If you love me as you say, you would never ask me to stoop to that.’

  Valentine leaned forward his hands out as if pleading. ‘No, you have it wrong, Roisin Dove. I am only telling you what my heart feels, and God help me I can’t change that.’

  ‘What about your wife? What about Sofia? Do you love her?’

  Valentine bowed his head. ‘She is my wife.’ He looked up again at Rosie. ‘But it’s not the same.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I married Sofia because it was my duty, not because I was in love with her – or she with me. You have rebuked me in the past about my sense of duty, and it may not mean much to you, but it means everything in my world.’

  Rosie sat down abruptly. Anger and confusion warred within her. She opened her mouth to protest, but he kept on speaking.

  ‘No, hear me out, Rosie. Sofia had conceived Thomas’s child. When he drowned she was utterly distraught. Don’t you see, I couldn’t have left her alone in that circumstance? I owed it to Thomas to take care of her – and his child.’

  ‘And save your family’s reputation!’ Rosie spat the words at him.

  Valentine nodded. ‘Yes, that too, I suppose.’

  Rosie pushed her chair back and stood up, exasperated. Duty, she thought, always fecking duty! ‘Well you made your choice and that’s an end to it.’ She tried to speak firmly although her voice quavered. ‘Whatever your reasons, I don’t want to know.’ She went on as if speaking to herself. ‘If it wasn’t her, it would have been another one of the gentry. You made up your mind to fulfil your duty to marr
y a wealthy woman once Thomas died. I’ve learned a lot since I’ve been in Dublin, and I understand things better than I did back at Ennismore. You would never have married me, just as none of the men from the Metropole Ball would have married me once they found out who I really was.’

  The effort of facing the truth exhausted her and she sat back down. She put her hand on his arm. ‘I accept that you believe you love me, Valentine,’ she said gently, ‘but whatever those feelings are, they are no good to me.’

  He looked at her, his eyes glazed with tears. ‘I’m sorry.’

  She swallowed the pity for him that rose in her heart. What she needed now was pity for herself. ‘I don’t hate you. I could never do that. But if you truly love me, you have to let me go.’

  She stood up and he began to rise from his chair. She put her hand on his shoulder and eased him back down, then bent and picked up her bag.

  ‘Don’t follow me.’

  He nodded. ‘One day I will put it right—’

  Before he could finish she put her finger on his lips. ‘Goodbye, Valentine. Keep well.’

  She turned and walked towards the door. While everyone’s eyes in the café watched her go, the only eyes she could feel on her belonged to him. She squared her shoulders, pulled open the door and resolutely stepped out onto the street.

  As Rosie walked, she tried to brush aside the thought that Bridie might not even want her back. After all, a year had slipped by since she had set foot in Foley Court. Because of the restrictions on her movements, she had not been able to keep her promise to Bridie to visit. Desperate, she arranged with Celine to get several notes delivered, but had received no reply. She feared her sister had lost faith in her. She imagined Bridie sitting with baby Kate in that wretched little room on Foley Court, cursing herself for ever having believed in Rosie’s promises.