Cinderella Sister

by Dilly Court

  ‘Yes, dear,’ Everard said patiently. He guided her towards the staircase. ‘Slowly does it, old girl. We don’t want you to take a tumble on the stairs and spoil that nice new gown.’

  ‘It was frightfully expensive,’ Charlotte said happily. ‘I hope you sell that painting in the Winter Exhibition, darling, or we’ll end up in Carey Street.’

  ‘Hush now, poppet. Don’t worry your pretty head about such matters.’

  Lily watched them progress slowly down the stairs, with Charlotte laughing and chattering like a schoolgirl and Everard helping her down each step. Lily did not know whom to blame the most, her mother for refusing to acknowledge that they were living well above their income or Everard for encouraging her in her folly. They were, she decided, equally at fault and she could only hope that the painting in the Royal Academy would do well enough to save them from the bankruptcy that seemed to be looming over their heads.

  She followed them downstairs at a sober rate. It looked as though she would be dining alone tonight but she seemed to have lost her appetite. She waited in the hallway while Prissy helped Ma into a sapphire-blue velvet opera cloak with a scarlet satin lining, and Everard donned a cashmere overcoat with a black velvet collar and a top hat. He glanced over his shoulder with an apologetic smile. ‘Sorry to leave you alone yet again, my dear. We’ll make it up to you another time.’

  Lily had heard this before. In the weeks that she had been living in Keppel Street she could count on her fingers the nights when they had dined as a family, and even then Ma and Everard had gone out afterwards or had entertained friends who came to drink and play cards. They had been artists and writers all unknown to Lily, and she suspected now that they were also little known in the world of art, but they talked a lot, drank even more and smoked cigars and cigarillos until the atmosphere in the drawing room resembled a London particular. On these occasions Lily had slipped away to her room early, unnoticed by anyone. Gabriel, when she had told him of these soirées, had warned her to steer clear of the louche society entertained by his father and stepmother. ‘That’s another reason I left home,’ he had said. ‘They’re a worthless lot with little or no talent, but they think they’re the next big thing. You have more artistic flair in your little finger than most of them have in their whole body. Avoid them if you can. Don’t get sucked in by their big talk and impossible dreams.’

  She recalled his words now. They had meant little to her at the time, but she realised that in many small ways Gabriel had tried to warn her about the bohemian lifestyle favoured by those who clung to the fringes of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. They were mere hangers-on, unaccepted by the great men and women of the art world.

  ‘Go outside and see if Perks has brought the carriage to the door,’ Everard said, checking his appearance in the wall mirror. ‘Where is that boy? If he’s late we’ll have to go without him, Cara.’

  Lily’s attention was dragged back to the present. She thought for a moment that he meant Gabriel, although common sense told her that this was unlikely, and when Prissy opened the door Lily gave an involuntary gasp as she saw her brother framed in the doorway. ‘Luke.’

  He stepped inside, looking ungainly and awkward in an ill-fitting suit that Lily did not recognise as belonging to any of her brothers. The sleeves were too short, exposing frayed cuffs and bony wrists, and the trousers, equally lacking in length, had caught in the tops of his boots. Lily could see that he had attempted to put a shine on the leather but it was too scuffed to make any difference. Luke’s fair complexion was already flushed with the cold and his colour deepened as he gazed at Charlotte and Everard in their evening clothes. In his hand he clutched one of Mr Cobbold’s old ledgers. Lily recognised it instantly as the one in which he wrote all his poems and her heart went out to him. ‘Lily,’ he said, his face brightening at the sight of her. ‘You look absolutely splendid. I hardly recognised you.’

  ‘We must go, old chap,’ Everard said hastily. ‘Come, my dear, we don’t want to keep our illustrious host waiting.’

  Charlotte grasped his arm to steady herself. ‘Dear me, no. That would never do.’ She waved vaguely to Luke. ‘I see you’ve brought your work, my dear boy. This might be your one big chance. All manner of writers, poets and publishers are going to be there this evening.’

  ‘Ma,’ Lily exclaimed. ‘What are you doing?’

  Charlotte blinked as she attempted to focus her eyes on her daughter. ‘What’s the matter, darling?’

  ‘Why are you taking him to one of those places? Luke won’t fit in with the sort of people you know.’

  ‘Of course he will,’ Charlotte protested. ‘He’s a poet, and a good one too. Don’t be so stuffy, Lily.’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Lil,’ Luke said cheerfully. ‘It’s just this blooming suit that’s making me uncomfortable. I got it from the dollyshop but I think the last person who wore it might have not been travelling alone, if you get my meaning.’ He scratched beneath his arm, causing Charlotte to utter a faint moan.

  ‘Never mind that now,’ Everard shooed him out of the door. ‘No time to change. Can’t be too late. Frightfully bad manners.’ With his arm looped around Charlotte’s waist, and with Prissy’s help, he assisted her down the steps to the waiting carriage.

  ‘Don’t go with them, Luke,’ Lily cried anxiously. ‘They’re not our sort of people.’

  He grinned cheerfully. ‘Don’t worry about me, Lil. My poems speak for me, so no one will notice that I’m a bit on the rough side. Ma says it’s part of my charm.’ He hurried out of the house, leaping the steps and jumping into the carriage after Everard.

  Lily clutched the newel post, dizzy with anxiety. She had seen enough of her mother’s so-called friends to fear that Luke’s optimism was sadly misplaced.

  ‘Well, they’ve gone,’ Prissy said as she ran back into the house, closing the door behind her. ‘They’ll be more than a bit squiffy by the time they get home. I hope that good-looking brother of yours has a strong head for drink. Anyway, it looks like you’re eating alone, miss. Shall I tell Cook to serve dinner now?’

  ‘I’m not very hungry, Prissy. Perhaps some on a tray in the morning parlour, or in my room. To tell the truth I have a bit of a headache.’

  ‘And you dressed up so fine,’ Prissy said, shaking her head. ‘You should be going to a ball or one of the eating places up West, not sitting by the fire in the parlour all on your own. It ain’t right.’

  Lily opened her mouth to placate Prissy but the sound of someone rapping on the doorknocker made them both turn with a start.

  ‘They’ll have forgotten something,’ Prissy muttered, bustling off to investigate.

  Lily crossed her fingers, hoping that Luke had listened to her warning and changed his mind, but when Prissy opened the door it was not Luke who stood on the threshold but Gabriel and Armand.

  ‘It’s like a blooming railway station,’ Prissy exclaimed. ‘Comings and goings all the time.’ She stood aside ushering them in. ‘Come in then if you’re coming. It’s taters out there.’

  Gabriel stood back to allow Armand to enter first. He strode towards Lily with his hands outstretched. ‘Ma chère Lily, how beautiful you look. Are you otherwise engaged?’

  Lily shook her head. ‘No, I thought I was dining with Ma and Everard but they’ve gone out and they’ve taken Luke with them. I’m so worried about him.’

  Gabriel joined them. ‘Luke’s a big boy now. I’m sure he can take care of himself. Where have they gone, as a matter of interest?’

  ‘To Mr Rossetti’s house, I think. But you know what Ma’s friends are like, Gabriel; they’ll gobble Luke up and spit him out when they tire of him.’

  ‘Not if he gets noticed by the great and the good,’ Gabriel said, smiling. ‘I agree that some of the lesser beings in the set are a waste of time, but should Rossetti himself or any of the genuine Brotherhood take to Luke, it could be the making of him.’

  ‘Alas, I do not move in those circles, nor am I a great lover of art,’ A
rmand admitted. ‘But Gabriel is right, Lily. Your brother is a man now and he must make his own mistakes, as we all do.’

  ‘Is the French toff staying for dinner?’ Prissy demanded, eyeing Armand with suspicion. ‘We ain’t got no frog’s legs, mister. No snails neither.’

  Lily shot her a warning glance. ‘It’s all right, thank you, Prissy. I doubt if Monsieur Labrosse is staying for dinner, or Mr Gabriel for that matter.’ She turned to Gabriel. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘Allow me to answer that question,’ Armand said before Gabriel had a chance to reply. ‘We would like to take you somewhere special this evening, Lily. Gabriel and I arranged it as a surprise for you.’

  ‘Yes, fetch Miss Larkin’s mantle, please, Prissy,’ Gabriel said firmly. ‘We have a carriage waiting outside.’

  Prissy stood her ground. ‘And you’ll bring her back safe and sound?’

  Gabriel’s lips twitched. ‘I promise to have her home before midnight.’

  Apparently satisfied, Prissy hurried upstairs.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ Lily could barely contain her excitement, all her worries temporarily forgotten. ‘Do tell me.’

  ‘No, you must wait.’ Gabriel and Armand exchanged conspiratorial grins.

  As they alighted from the carriage in Wapping Wall, Lily thought that they might be dining at the Prospect of Whitby, and she wondered why Armand and Gabriel would have chosen a pub here of all places, when they might dine in style and comfort much closer to home. But as they emerged from the passage that led to Pelican Stairs and walked past the pub, she realised that the surprise was even greater than she had anticipated. Wedged between a builder’s yard and a warehouse on the marble wharf stood what looked like an ancient hostelry. The name of the inn had been obliterated by years of dirt and the ravages of the weather, but the metal-studded oak door in its half-timbered frontage might once have opened to welcome sailors, stevedores and travellers. The bow windows leaned at a dangerous angle over the narrow wharf and Lily caught her breath as she recognised her grandfather’s bewhiskered face peering out at her from one of the ground floor windows. It was too dark to make out his expression but she sensed that he was smiling at her, or perhaps it was wishful thinking. ‘Are you sure I’m welcome?’ she asked, turning an anxious face to Gabriel.

  ‘We didn’t bring you here just to look at the outside,’ he said, grinning.

  ‘Am I to stay?’ The words tumbled from her lips more in hope than certainty.

  ‘One thing at a time, Lily,’ Gabriel said, tugging at the bell rope.

  ‘I shouldn’t have come. Matt will be furious.’ Seized by panic, Lily backed away but Armand caught her by the hand.

  ‘Do not worry, ma chérie, Matt and Mark are on duty at the fire station.’

  Lily felt herself go weak at the knees as the door opened and she saw Nell’s neat figure silhouetted against the light. ‘Come in.’

  It was all the invitation that Lily needed and she rushed forward to fling her arms around her sister. ‘Oh, Nell, I’m so happy to see you.’

  Nell gave her a brief hug and then extricated herself with a shadow of a smile. ‘It was Armand’s idea, and Gabriel’s too. I’d rather not do this behind Matt’s back.’

  ‘Oh, let her in for goodness’ sake.’ Molly popped her head round a door to the right of the narrow flagstoned passage.

  Somewhat reluctantly, Lily thought, Nell stood aside to allow Lily to pass.

  Molly beckoned to them. ‘Come into the parlour. It’s the only room we have a fire apart from the kitchen. The chimneys smoke something terrible and they’re either clogged with soot or birds’ nests, we don’t know which.’ She gave Lily a peremptory hug. ‘Good to see you, girl. Make yourself at home.’ She gasped as Lily shed her cloak. ‘My God, look at you.’

  ‘Molly, don’t blaspheme,’ Nell scolded.

  ‘Just look at that gown though.’ Molly’s eyes widened and her mouth turned down at the corners. ‘It’s enough to make a saint swear. It must have cost the earth.’

  ‘It was Ma’s,’ Lily said hastily. ‘She gave it to me.’

  Molly tossed her head. ‘Well aren’t you the lucky one. We have to wear calico and cotton and you’re dressed like the blooming Queen.’

  ‘Come now, ladies,’ Gabriel said, taking off his hat and gloves. ‘No squabbling please. This is meant to be a happy family reunion. It’s not Lily’s fault if Charlotte gives her things. I daresay she’d be just as generous to you, Molly, and you also, Nell, if you would put this feud behind you.’

  ‘Thank you, but I don’t need you to tell me how to behave,’ Nell said stiffly.

  Lily could feel the tension in the air and not for the first time that evening she wished that Armand and Gabriel had warned her of their intentions. She would have come, of course, but she would have worn something simpler and been more prepared to face her sisters. Molly was glaring enviously at their mother’s cast-off gown and Nell looked distinctly uncomfortable. Lily felt a wave of sympathy for her elder sister; poor Nell, always trying to do the right thing and forever battling with her conscience.

  ‘Well, you’d best sit down and make yourselves at home,’ Nell said with an obvious effort. ‘I’ll tell Grandpa you’re here.’

  ‘No need. I ain’t deaf and I ain’t senile.’ Grandpa Larkin had entered the room unnoticed. There was a moment of expectant silence as everyone waited for his reaction. He held out his arms. ‘Come here, girl. Give your old grandpa a kiss.’

  Lily stumbled in her haste to reach him and she flung her arms around his neck. ‘Oh, Grandpa, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you all.’

  He patted her back. ‘There, there, girl. Don’t squeeze the life out of me.’ He held her at arm’s length. ‘My, don’t you look grand. I hardly recognised you when I looked out of the window. Who’s that? I says to meself.’

  ‘It’s me, Grandpa. I’m still your little Lily. I haven’t changed.’

  He shook his head. ‘That little girl’s gone for good, I think. You look all grown up, Lily, and quite the lady.’

  Before Lily had a chance to argue, the kitchen door opened and a waft of fragrant cooking smells preceded Aggie as she burst into the room. She stopped short, arms akimbo. ‘Well I never. So it is you, Lily. I thought I heard your voice.’

  Lily eyed her warily, uncertain of her welcome. ‘Aggie, it’s good to see you.’

  Aggie waddled across the floor to envelop her in a hug. ‘It’s been too long. I didn’t hold with any of the nonsense spouted by the rest of them.’

  ‘That’s not what you said at the time, you old warhorse,’ Grandpa said irritably. ‘You blamed Lily for going to her ma just as loudly as the rest.’

  ‘And it’s time to put all that behind us,’ Aggie retorted. ‘The girl has come home and here she should stay.’

  ‘Oh, may I?’ Lily clasped her hands to her breast, looking from Grandpa to Nell. ‘Am I forgiven?’

  Armand cleared his throat. ‘Surely there is nothing to forgive. Wasn’t it only natural that a girl would want to know her mama?’

  ‘Yes,’ Gabriel agreed with an emphatic nod of his head. ‘Come on, Nell. You must have some feelings left for Cara.’

  ‘Cara.’ Nell wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘So that’s what she’s calling herself these days. No, Gabriel, I feel nothing for the mother who deserted us so callously. She left me to bring up the younger ones when I was still a girl. I had to shoulder the responsibility for housekeeping as well as teaching at the Ragged School. She robbed me of my youth.’

  ‘You are still young and, if I may be so bold, très belle.’ Armand took Nell’s hand and raised it to his lips.

  Molly let out a sound halfway between a sigh and a hiss. ‘Oh for goodness’ sake stop pandering to Nell. I say that Lily is one of us and should stay. I’ve missed her and she’s the only one who knows how much starch to put in my petticoats.’

  ‘It’s not up to us,’ Nell said quietly. ‘Matt is still the head of the house.’

>   ‘And I suppose I’m just a wooden figurehead,’ Grandpa grumbled. ‘I’m the senior man and I say she should stay.’

  ‘You’ve spoken sense, for once,’ Aggie said, nodding. ‘We’ve got the room now, even if the place is crumbling round our ears.’ She glanced anxiously at Armand. ‘No offence meant, mister.’

  He smiled indulgently. ‘I am not offended, chère mademoiselle. The building is old, as you say, but I will do everything in my power to make it more habitable. It just takes time.’

  Lily cast a questioning look at Nell. She could see that her sister was wavering but she also understood that Matt was a force to be reckoned with. His anger and resentment towards their mother had never abated; if anything, it had deepened with the passing years. She could barely imagine his reaction if he discovered the truth about the household in Keppel Street. Perhaps it would be better if the family remained in ignorance of their mother’s lifestyle. Lily slipped her hand into Gabriel’s and received a reassuring squeeze. ‘I’d love to come home, more than anything, but perhaps this isn’t the best time. I don’t want to upset Matt and Mark.’

  ‘Luke is on your side,’ Molly said defiantly. ‘I say we should stand up to Matt. We’re all grown up now and have minds of our own.’

  ‘How about a nice cup of tea and a slice of my seed cake? I’ve got a proper range now and I can bake to my heart’s content.’ Aggie beckoned to Lily. ‘Come and see my kitchen.’

  ‘Never mind coddling your insides with tea and cake, I think something stronger is called for,’ Grandpa said sternly. ‘Let’s go to the pub.’

  ‘Capital idea.’ Gabriel looked to Armand. ‘What d’you say, old chap?’

  ‘I agree.’ Armand proffered his arm to Nell. ‘May I escort you to the so excellent hostelry next door, Mademoiselle Nell?’

  For a moment Lily thought that Nell was going to refuse, but a reluctant smile curved her lips, transforming her face into a picture of serene beauty. Lily could see that Armand was impressed and she tried hard not to envy her sister. Nell did nothing to attract men, but when she smiled she seemed to enslave them forever. Lily wished that she had that gift. She realised that Gabriel was eyeing her with raised brows and a questioning look. ‘Are you coming, Lily?’