Cinderella Sister

by Dilly Court

  ‘I don’t know, try the door opposite. There are only two bedrooms on this floor but there is another one in the attic.’

  Lily opened the door and a cry of terror was ripped from her throat as she saw what appeared to be a small man slumped face down on the floor.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Gabriel demanded, pushing past her.

  ‘It’s a tiny man. I think he’s dead.’ Lily could barely frame the words.

  Gabriel’s laughter ricocheted off the ceiling, coming back to taunt him. ‘Heavens no, Lily. Can’t you see? It’s a marionette?’ He crossed the bare boards to move the object with the toe of his shoe.

  Lily uttered a squeak of dismay, unconvinced until she saw the gaping wooden mouth and staring glass eyes of the puppet, and the strings that dangled from each of its limbs. ‘What is it doing here?’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you? The landlord is a magician and a puppeteer. He used to live here but he owns the house next door and when the last tenant moved out Magnus the Magnificent moved in.’

  ‘I’ve never seen one of these before,’ Lily said, breathing a sigh of relief.

  ‘Well, you have now.’ Gabriel stepped over the grinning and slightly grisly-looking wooden caricature of a man and carried Charlotte to the bed, where he laid her down. ‘We’ll return his property first thing in the morning. I suggest we unpack only what we need for tonight, and I’ll go to the pie and eel shop in Houndsditch and get us some supper.’

  Lily stepped over the lifeless puppet and went to the bed. She brushed a lock of hair back from her mother’s damp forehead with a sigh. ‘I hope she’ll feel better in the morning. She’s lost without Everard.’

  Gabriel paused in the doorway. ‘I gave this address to the prison officials, but I plan to go there first thing tomorrow to make sure my father is being treated properly, and to find out how much it will take to gain his release.’ He stepped outside onto the small landing, calling to Prissy. ‘Bring a coverlet for Mrs Faulkner, please, Prissy. We don’t want her to catch a chill.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Lily whispered to his shadowy form as he descended the stairs. ‘Thank you for everything, Gabriel.’

  That night Lily and Prissy shared the back bedroom. Lily took the single iron bedstead and Prissy curled up on the truckle bed. Despite the noise from the pub Lily fell into a deep sleep. When she awakened next morning she thought for a moment she was back in Cock Hill, but as she stretched and her eyes became accustomed to the gloom she realised that the person snoring in the other bed was Prissy and not Molly. It was bitterly cold in the room and she realised how spoilt she had been in Keppel Street with a fire lit before she awakened and clean clothes laid out ready for her. She reached for her wrap and slipped it about her shoulders before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She shivered as her bare feet touched the ice-cold oilcloth that covered the floorboards. There were no warm slippers or a cup of hot chocolate to keep her going until breakfast, but she had been brought up without such luxuries and she could manage perfectly well without them.

  Taking care not to awaken Prissy, Lily lifted the latch on the door and crossed the narrow landing to her mother’s room. Charlotte’s bedcovers were in disarray as if she had tossed and turned all night, but she seemed peaceful enough now, and for that Lily was grateful. She tiptoed out of the room and was halfway down the stairs when she was startled by a loud rapping on the front door. Outside in the street she could hear the steady tramp of hobnail boots as men trudged to work on the docks and wharves. The clatter of horses’ hooves was accompanied by the rumbling of cartwheels and the shouts of costermongers as they hauled their barrows towards the market in Petticoat Lane.

  ‘Oy, open up in there,’ a man’s voice demanded as he thumped again on the door.

  Lily hurried to answer his summons before he woke the whole house. She opened the door a crack, peering out anxiously. ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘It’s me, Magnus, your landlord. Open up, young lady.’

  Clutching her wrap around her, Lily stood aside as he entered the hallway, filling it with his bulk. He took off his bowler hat revealing a bald head somewhat at variance with his luxuriant set of mutton chop whiskers and curling black moustache. ‘Good morning, miss. Magnus the Magnificent at your service.’

  ‘Good morning, Mr Magnus,’ Lily murmured, eyeing him warily. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘I apologise for the early morning call, my dear. But I left something of mine in the house and I have an early start today. We, my little friends and I, are travelling to Chelsea this morning. We are giving a performance at Cremorne Gardens.’

  ‘Oh, you mean the puppet. I thought for a moment it was a tiny man lying dead on the floor.’ Lily’s giggle died on her lips as she realised that she had said the wrong thing.

  Magnus glared at her, wide-eyed with affront. ‘Do not speak about my children in that disparaging tone, my good woman. Where is my boy?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I mean, I thought …’

  ‘My little friends are real to me, miss. How else would I create a world in which others can believe if I myself were not wholly sincere?’

  Lily made a move towards the front parlour where Gabriel had left the puppet dangling from the mantelshelf. ‘I’ll fetch it, I mean him, if you’ll give me a moment.’

  But Magnus did not seem to be in a patient mood and he strode past Lily, entering the parlour and uttering a cry of dismay. ‘My poor boy, Charlie. What have they done to you?’ Stepping over the pile of boxes and baggage that had been brought from Keppel Street, Magnus lifted the dangling puppet from the mantelshelf as tenderly as if it were a living thing. ‘There, there, Charlie. My poor little fellow, did you think your pa had abandoned you?’

  ‘I’ve heard about Cremorne Gardens,’ Lily said in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the marionette. ‘It must be a splendid place.’

  Cradling the puppet in his arm, Magnus turned to her and his expression softened. He twirled his waxed moustache with the tip of his thumb and forefinger. ‘We are frequently asked to entertain there. You must come and see my act. I will tell your brother that he must bring you one evening.’

  Lily did not bother to correct him. She sensed that their new landlord would not take kindly to her sharing the house with a man to whom she was not related. ‘Thank you, I’d like that.’

  ‘Just mention my name at the gate,’ Magnus said airily. ‘If they don’t let you in for nothing I’ll eat my hat.’ He swanned out of the room, setting his bowler back on his head with a dramatic gesture. ‘I’ll take my leave of you now, miss. The rent is due on Friday.’ He let himself out of the house, murmuring apologies to Charlie for abandoning him to people who did not know how to treat an artiste of his calibre. Lily hurried to lock the door, but just as she was about to turn the key, someone outside crashed on the knocker. Thinking it was Magnus she opened the door to find a policeman standing on the pavement.

  ‘Is this the residence of Mr Faulkner?’

  Lily’s mouth went dry. His serious expression frightened her and her heart began to race.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Had they taken something from the house in Keppel Street that did not belong to them? It would have been easy to make a mistake during their hurried departure. Lily eyed the young constable warily. ‘Is something wrong?’

  He took a notebook from his pocket and flipped through the pages. ‘I’m looking for Mr Gabriel Faulkner, miss. Does he or does he not reside at this address?’

  Lily hesitated. If Gabriel was in some kind of trouble she ought to warn him, but she could see by his set expression that the policeman was not going to be fobbed off easily. The sound of footsteps on the stairs made her turn her head. Gabriel’s smile faded as he saw the police officer standing on the doorstep. ‘Is there anything wrong, constable?’

  ‘May I come in, sir?’ The policeman took his helmet off and tucked it under his arm, stepping over the threshold as Gabriel motioned him to enter.

  Lily clos
ed the door. Something bad had happened; she sensed trouble. The police never turned up on a person’s doorstep bearing good tidings.

  The constable cleared his throat. ‘Are you Mr Gabriel Faulkner, sir?’

  ‘I am he.’

  ‘Then I’ve got some bad news for you, sir. Perhaps we could speak in private?’ He shot a meaningful glance in Lily’s direction.

  ‘Why don’t you go upstairs and put something warm on?’ Gabriel said, taking Lily by the shoulders and pointing her towards the stairs. ‘Come into the kitchen, officer.’

  Frustrated and frightened, Lily was about to go up to her room, but curiosity got the better of her and she tiptoed along the hall to stand outside the kitchen with her ear close to the keyhole. The constable was speaking in a low voice and she could not make out the words, but then Gabriel uttered an agonised cry. ‘My father’s dead? You must have it wrong, constable. He wouldn’t have taken his own life.’

  Forgetting her state of undress, Lily pushed the door open and rushed into the room. ‘Gabriel.’ She flung her arms around him. ‘It can’t be true. There must be some mistake.’

  He did not respond to her touch. The colour had drained from his face and his lips moved but no sound came from them.

  In desperation, Lily turned to the young policeman, who was looking thoroughly discomforted. ‘It can’t be Everard. He wouldn’t do such a thing.’

  ‘I’m sorry, miss. I just came to bring the message. I don’t know nothing more. Mr Faulkner must accompany me to the prison to formally identify the body.’

  ‘Speak to me.’ Lily gave Gabriel a gentle shake. ‘Please say something.’ She gazed anxiously into his face but still he did not respond. At the sound of footsteps pattering across the flagstone floor, Lily looked round to see Prissy hurrying towards her.

  ‘It’s all right, miss. I heard it all from upstairs. Just leave Mr Gabriel to me.’ Gently disengaging Lily’s arms from around Gabriel’s neck, Prissy gave her a hug. ‘Go upstairs and get dressed or you’ll be next on the slab.’

  ‘Oh, Prissy. It can’t be true. Everard was the kindest person I’ve ever met. He can’t be dead.’

  ‘How’d he do it, constable?’ Prissy demanded. ‘Or was he done in?’

  ‘Hanged hisself, miss.’ The constable’s face flushed a deep shade of red. ‘I’m sorry to tell you so, but you did ask. I can’t say no more, and I’m directed to bring Mr Faulkner to the prison as soon as you like.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Gabriel,’ Lily said softly. ‘Perhaps there’s been a tragic mix-up and it’s not your pa.’

  Her voice seemed to penetrate somewhere deep in Gabriel’s mind and he blinked, dashing his hand across his eyes. ‘I must go with the constable.’

  ‘You’ll go nowhere until you’ve had a nice hot cup of tea,’ Prissy said firmly. ‘And you too, officer. You look worse than him.’ She shooed Lily towards the door. ‘Upstairs I said. Now.’

  Gabriel had been gone all morning. Lily had wanted to tell her mother straight away but Prissy suggested it would be better to wait for Gabriel’s return. If it was a case of mistaken identity they would have upset the missis for nothing, she said, nodding her head sagely. It would be best all round to let her rest and regain her strength before she had to hear the tragic news. Lily knew she was being cowardly, but she took Prissy’s advice, and making an effort to appear as if nothing untoward had happened she took her mother’s hot chocolate to her.

  Charlotte opened her eyes, blinking owlishly at her daughter. ‘Where am I, Lily? This isn’t my room.’

  ‘We had to leave Keppel Street, Ma,’ Lily said gently. ‘Don’t you remember?’

  Charlotte’s face contorted with pain. ‘My poor darling Everard.’ She closed her eyes and tears seeped from beneath her lids to run unchecked down her cheeks. ‘I’ll never be able to hold my head up in public again. We’ll be ruined if this gets out.’

  Lily plumped the pillows and made her mother comfortable. ‘Don’t upset yourself, Ma. Everard wouldn’t want you to make your face all blotchy with crying.’

  ‘How will we manage, Lily?’ Charlotte glanced round the room with a shudder. ‘I can’t live like a pauper. I’ll die in this dreadful place.’

  Lily placed the cup of hot chocolate in her hands. ‘You won’t die, Ma. Drink this and you’ll feel better.’

  ‘My poor darling will be drinking filthy water and eating gruel for breakfast. We must find a good solicitor straight away. I don’t care what it costs.’

  Lily knew there was no point in arguing. Ma was refusing to accept the fact that they were virtually bankrupt. How she would take the news of Everard’s suicide was too terrible to contemplate. She took the brown-glass medicine bottle from the mantelshelf and poured a few drops of laudanum into a glass of water.

  Charlotte handed her the empty cup. ‘I’ll have my medicine now, Lily. Then you may tell Prissy to run my bath, and ask her to lay out my lilac watered silk morning gown. I must look my best when I visit Everard. He likes to see me turned out well.’

  ‘Yes, Ma.’

  Charlotte drained the mixture of laudanum and water, sinking back against the pillows with a sigh. ‘I think I’ll take a little nap. Wake me when my bath is ready, darling.’

  Lily nodded her head. If she spoke now she knew she would break down and cry. She hurried from the room, satisfied that Ma would have a few more hours of peace before she had to face the news that would inevitably break her heart.

  Downstairs, Lily found Prissy in the kitchen talking to a strange-looking woman who appeared to be wearing the costume of a milkmaid from a past century. The odd garments sat incongruously on her skinny limbs. She was neither young nor beautiful and her grizzled grey hair hung about her head in tight corkscrew curls. Her cheeks were rouged and her eyebrows blackened with soot so that they looked like two hairy caterpillars resting above her china-blue eyes.

  ‘This here is Mrs Magnificent,’ Prissy said by way of explanation. ‘We was just about to have a cup of tea.’

  ‘Mad Mary they call me.’ The woman bobbed a curtsey. Her wide smile revealed bare gums except for one large top tooth which stuck out like a blanched almond. ‘Mad Mary Preston. Me old man is Magnus the Magnificent and he said I should call and make meself known to you, seeing as how we’re neighbours and you are our new tenants.’

  ‘Pleased to make your acquaintance.’ Lily was unsure how to treat this extraordinary creature and looked to Prissy for inspiration.

  Mad Mary did not seem aware that she presented a comic figure. Her bodice was cut low, exposing rather too much of her wrinkled prune-like flesh. She wore a kirtle looped to expose a scarlet flannel petticoat which ended just above her twig-like ankles, and her over-large feet were encased in black patent-leather shoes with enormous silver buckles.

  Without waiting to be invited, Mad Mary took a seat by the range. Producing a clay pipe and a tobacco pouch from somewhere about her person, she proceeded to smoke while speaking at length about the act that she and her husband performed onstage. When at last she came to an end, having drunk several cups of tea and puffed on her pipe until she had created a fug, she rose to her feet and announced that she must hurry if she were to catch the midday boat to Cremorne Gardens. ‘Good day to you, ladies,’ she said airily. ‘I’m glad to be the first to welcome you to Cock and Hoop Yard. You’ll find us a friendly lot, but don’t let Silly Sally into the house. She’s not all there, but there’s no real harm in her.’

  She left the room and Prissy ran to open the window even though it was raining heavily. ‘That’ll wash some of the paint off her face,’ she said, chuckling. ‘Seems to me they’re all a bit mad round here, but at least she made you smile, miss. So she ain’t all bad.’

  ‘I shouldn’t be laughing,’ Lily said, hanging her head. ‘I feel like crying but I keep hoping that Gabriel will come home and tell us it’s all a mistake, and some other poor man has taken his own life. Although I know that’s a wicked thing to say.’

  ‘You thin
k a deal too much,’ Prissy said severely. ‘Now you listen to me. I found your paintbox amongst Mr Gabriel’s bags when I was unpacking and putting things away. I suggest you go in the front parlour and do what you like doing best. It’ll take your mind off you-know-what.’

  ‘But I can’t,’ Lily protested. ‘What if Ma wakes up and calls out?’

  ‘Lor’ love you, ducks. This house is so small you could hear a mouse sneeze. If she calls out I’ll be up them stairs in a flash. Now go on and do us a pretty picture to hang on the wall. This place could do with a bit of cheering up.’

  Lily went into the front parlour and found her paintbox laid out waiting for her with a stick of charcoal and a sheet of paper. Her feelings of guilt vanished as she set about sketching the view from the window. The houses opposite were identical to the one they now occupied, and although they were somewhat rundown in appearance, the green shutters and doors gave them a certain raffish charm. A woman with a small child was standing at the pump on the corner, and there were slightly older children chasing each other in a game of tag. They were shabbily dressed but looked reasonably well fed and healthy, if slightly grubby. Lily found herself sketching away as if her life depended upon it. Lost in a creative world of her own, she barely touched the slice of bread and scrape that Prissy put beside her for her midday meal with the promise of something more substantial later.

  ‘I should go upstairs and check on Ma,’ she murmured, half rising from the wooden stool placed in front of the window.

  ‘No need. I went up just now and she’s sleeping like a baby. Best leave her like that until we know for certain.’

  Lily nodded in agreement. She prayed silently that Gabriel would return and tell them that Everard was alive and well, but she knew it was a slim hope and her fears were confirmed later that afternoon. She had just finished painting a slender girl in a blue cotton gown that was far too flimsy for the winter weather. Seemingly oblivious to the cold, the girl danced about the yard holding her skirts out and kicking her bare legs up in the air. Her flaxen hair was matted and soaked by the falling rain but she appeared to be enjoying every moment. It had to be Silly Sally, Lily thought, feeling almost envious of the girl in her simple state of mind where nothing appeared to matter. The fact that her feet and lower limbs were almost as blue as her stained gown did not seem to worry her, and she might look as though she had never had a square meal in her short life but she was laughing, and her lips moved as though she was singing. Lily was tempted to rush outside and give Sally the untouched food on her plate, but she was distracted by the sound of someone knocking on the front door. She emerged from the parlour to find Gabriel standing in the narrow hallway shaking raindrops from his hat, while Prissy fussed around him demanding that he take off his sodden overcoat. His grim expression confirmed Lily’s worst fears.