The Best of Sisters

by Dilly Court

  ‘I can assure you that I never thought any such thing. If my father promised you assistance, then I’m sure he would trust me to give you any help and advice that you need.’

  There was nothing for it, Eliza decided. The situation was desperate and she needed to store what was left of her stock in a secure place before nightfall. She sat down and, taking a deep breath, she launched into her appeal. ‘I need a place to store the stock in my yard that escaped the fire, and a horse and cart to shift it.’

  Brandon perched on the edge of his desk. ‘That shouldn’t be a problem.’

  ‘And I want to rebuild the chandlery with the sail loft above it.’

  ‘Now that’s another matter. To rebuild would cost a lot of money.’

  ‘I know that, but I had a deal in mind that might benefit us both.’

  ‘A deal?’ Brandon slapped his hand on his knee, chuckling. ‘You are a remarkable young woman, Miss Bragg.’

  There he was, patronising her again: the conceited, toffee-nosed young puppy. Eliza clenched her hands in her lap, digging her fingernails into her palms to stop the hot retort that sprang to her lips. Forcing herself to sound calm, although she couldn’t quite prevent a tremor in her voice, she looked him in the eyes. ‘If your company will lend me the money to rebuild and restock, then I’ll guarantee to supply your dad’s ships at a rate that he won’t get nowhere else in London.’

  He did not reply at once. He raised himself from the desk and walked over to the window, where he stood staring out while he appeared to be considering her offer. Eliza hardly dared to breathe, willing him to speak and put her out of her misery. With difficulty, she held her tongue.

  He turned slowly, eyeing her with a wary expression. ‘This is a most unusual situation. Over what period would you repay the loan?’

  ‘I couldn’t hope to repay nothing for the first year. Then, when I’d got the business going properly, I thought we could work out a suitable arrangement regarding repayment and interest.’

  Brandon’s lips twitched. ‘But until then you would supply our ships with chandlery at a reasonable rate?’

  ‘If it’s so funny, then perhaps I’m wasting your time.’

  ‘Forgive me, Miss Bragg, but yours is a most unusual request. Tell me how you came to be involved in what is normally a man’s world?’

  ‘I was raised in the chandlery. I might not have had the advantage of a public school education, but I grew up in the East End and I know what’s what.’

  ‘I’m sure you do, and you are extremely good-looking as well, which must be an advantage.’

  ‘Look, mister. You can save the flowery talk for your upper-class ladies. I’m offering you a good deal and I don’t give a damn whether or not you think I’m pretty. I need an answer, yes or no.’ For a moment, Eliza thought she had gone too far. Brandon was eyeing her with a mixture of respect and a flicker of irritation. It was easy to imagine that he was used to getting his own way, especially from those who he considered were the under class. Well, she was no one’s lackey and if she failed to get financial backing from the Millers then she would go elsewhere. Folding her arms across her chest, Eliza waited for his answer.

  ‘I can let you have storage space and the necessary transport, but as to the loan, I’ll have to speak to my father about that.’ Brandon went to his desk, sat down and wrote something on a sheet of paper.

  ‘Of course.’ Eliza fought to keep the note of sheer relief from her voice. She was glad that he had his head bent over the document so that he could not see that, now the ordeal was over, she was trembling.

  ‘There. This gives instructions to my foreman to allot you a suitable space in the warehouse, where you may store your goods until such time as you are able to retrieve them. It also gives permission for the use of one of our drays and a driver.’ Brandon handed the note to Eliza but snatched it away before she could take it, holding it just out of her reach. ‘A smile would be nice, Miss Bragg.’

  ‘If I was a man would you ask me to smile?’

  A spark of genuine amusement replaced the teasing glint in Brandon’s dark eyes. ‘If you were a man we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’

  Torn between wanting to grab the note from his hands, the desire to wipe the grin off his face and the need to save her business, Eliza somehow managed to sketch her lips into a smile.

  ‘There, that didn’t hurt much, did it?’ Brandon handed her the note.

  ‘Thank you.’ Clutching the piece of paper in her hand, Eliza rose from her seat with as much dignity as she could muster. She was about to leave the room when the door opened and Aaron entered the office.

  ‘Miss Eliza. My clerk told me that you had asked to see me. I was so sorry to hear about poor old Ted. He was a good man and a craftsman; he’ll be sorely missed.’

  ‘Miss Bragg came to us for help, Father,’ Brandon said smoothly. ‘She has a business proposition for us, but I’ve told her that the decision rests with you.’

  ‘Well, my dear. Last night I offered you my assistance and Aaron Miller doesn’t go back on his word. Come to my office, the pair of you, and we’ll discuss it over a glass of Madeira, or a cup of coffee if you’d prefer it, Eliza.’

  Two hours later, Eliza arrived back at the chandlery seated on the cart beside the driver. Her elation at reaching an agreement with Aaron was tempered with disappointment. He had agreed to lend her the money to rebuild the property, but only to the height of one storey. Without Ted as sailmaker and with the increasing number of steamships coming into use, he could not, he had said, as a man of business, warrant the expenditure on a sail loft that might soon be outdated and unprofitable. Eliza’s heart sank as she saw Davy standing in the yard talking to Arnold. They had parted on a row this morning and now she was the bearer of bad news; it would seem that she had not tried on his behalf and that was just not true. She had done everything but beg Aaron to extend the loan to cover a second storey and sail loft, but he had been adamant. As the driver drew the horse to a halt, Davy came towards her with a conciliatory grin on his face and this only made Eliza feel worse. Dear Davy, always so kind and good-natured and now she was going to have to dash his hopes of taking over the business; it seemed dreadfully unfair. She held out her arms and allowed him to lift her down from the cart.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ They spoke the words in chorus and then laughed.

  ‘No, I’m sorry,’ Eliza said, smiling up at him. ‘I was short-tempered. It was my fault.’

  ‘I was being pig-headed as usual and I should have had more thought for you, Liza. After all you’d been through.’ He took something out of his pocket and held his hand out to her. ‘Ma found this on the floor in the pub.’

  The gold brooch glinted in his palm and Eliza picked it up with a gasp of relief. ‘I thought it was lost for ever.’

  ‘And you’ll wear it for me?’

  ‘I will, Davy. When the mourning period for Ted is over. I will wear it. I promise.’

  ‘Ahem,’ the driver coughed.

  ‘I’m sorry to keep you waiting, mister.’ Eliza gave the driver an apologetic smile as she slipped the brooch into her pocket. ‘Arnold, Dan.’ She waved her hand to attract their attention. ‘You can load the goods on the cart. It’s going to a safe place until we can reopen the shop.’

  Dan gave a whoop of joy, and Arnold managed a lopsided grin as they began hefting the barrels onto their shoulders.

  ‘How did you get him and his wagon?’ Davy demanded. ‘And where’ve you been all this time, Liza?’

  Taking him by the arm, Eliza moved aside to let Arnold and Dan get on with the work of loading the cart. ‘We need to talk, Davy. I’ve got some good news, but I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news too.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘There’s only one thing for it now, Liza,’ Davy said, walking slowly by her side as they made their way back to Hemp Yard. ‘I’ll have to find a shipmaster what’ll take me on as sailmaker.’

  ‘Oh, Davy, I’m so sorry.’ Eliz
a tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. ‘I tried me hardest to make Mr Miller see that it would be in his best interest to build a sail loft above the shop, but he wouldn’t have it.’

  ‘I know you did, and I love you all the more for it, Liza.’

  ‘Don’t say that. I’ve told you before, I ain’t interested in romance.’

  ‘You might feel different if it was that Brandon Miller chap showing an interest in you.’

  ‘Don’t talk soft.’ With an exasperated sigh, Eliza pulled her hand away and was immediately sorry for her impatient gesture. She moderated her tone, trying to make a joke of it. ‘What would I want with a lairy cove like him? He’s so full of his own self-importance and his blooming Oxford education, learning about old Greek things. I got no patience with his sort.’

  ‘Bleeding hell!’ Davy was not listening to her and he stopped short, pointing his finger at two figures in front of them, one supporting the other as they weaved drunkenly from side to side in the street. Carters and draymen shouted streams of invective as the pair narrowly escaped being run down. ‘It’s me dad,’ Davy said, breaking into a run.

  Picking up her skirts, Eliza followed him. She reached them just as Davy hooked his father’s arm round his shoulders.

  ‘Do you know this man?’ The well-dressed, bearded gentleman, who had been attempting to guide Arthur’s drunken steps, turned his head to stare at Davy.

  ‘It’s me dad, sir. Where did you find him?’

  ‘In Gutter Alley, dead to the world. A pitiful sight.’

  ‘Pitiful, my eye. He’s a disgrace. It would have served him right if you’d left him there and let the rats gnaw off his finger ends.’

  ‘That’s not a very Christian attitude, young man.’

  ‘Maybe not, sir. But we’ve had to live with his drunkenness for as long as I can remember. I’ve watched me mum scrimp and save to feed us nippers with no help from him, the old bugger.’

  ‘Come on, Davy,’ Eliza said, tugging at his sleeve. ‘Whatever he’s done wrong, he needs a bit of help now. We’d best get him home.’

  Arthur’s legs buckled at the knees and his feet shot out in different directions. Davy and the bearded stranger staggered beneath his weight as they worked together to keep him from falling to the ground.

  ‘If you don’t mind me asking, sir,’ Davy said breathlessly, ‘who the devil are you?’

  ‘I’m William Booth, my boy,’ he said, relinquishing his hold on Arthur to put his top hat straight. ‘I am a minister in the Methodist Church. My good wife, Catherine, and I run the East End Christian Mission in an attempt to save poor souls like your father.’

  ‘No hope there, sir,’ Davy said, hoisting Arthur over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. ‘I’ll take him on now; we’re not far from home. I thank you for your trouble.’

  William pulled a card from his breast pocket and handed it to Eliza. ‘When this good man sobers up, send him round to my mission. We can help him.’

  ‘Where’s me new mate Willum?’ Arthur demanded in a slurred voice as he hung over Davy’s shoulder. ‘Are we in Australia? You’re all upside down.’

  ‘God bless you, old chap,’ William said, bending double to peer into Arthur’s florid face. ‘I hope to see you in the mission.’

  ‘That’ll be the day.’ Davy walked off, staggering beneath Arthur’s considerable weight.

  ‘He don’t mean to be rude, sir,’ Eliza said, embarrassed by Davy’s rudeness. After all, the gent had only been trying to help.

  William smiled down at her. ‘No need to apologise, my dear. But it would be of benefit both to Arthur and his family if he were to attend.’

  She watched him walk away with the feeling that here was a great and a good man. Somehow all her troubles seemed trivial in the face of such a splendid spirit. Davy was halfway down the street and she had to run to catch up with him.

  ‘Damned creeping Jesus,’ he said, hefting Arthur higher on his shoulder. ‘He should mind his own business. I’m going to take the old soak home.’

  She knew better than to argue with Davy when he was angry. ‘You do that, Davy. And be sure to tell Ada that she can have the house for as long as she wants it. There’s no question of rent until you gets yourself fixed up with a ship.’

  ‘At least Pete’s still got his job in the brewery.’ Davy shot her a resigned glance beneath his furrowed brows. ‘I know the old lady will want to pay you something, but if you could cut the rent down a bit, I’d be more than grateful. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can. I promise I will.’

  ‘Don’t even think about repayment. Friends and family help each other in times of need. You’d do the same for me.’

  For a moment, Eliza thought she saw a tear sparkle in the corner of Davy’s eye, but he turned away too quickly for her to be certain. She stood, watching him tote his human burden until he disappeared round the corner of Green Bank into Bird Street, then, with a heartfelt sigh, she made her way home to Hemp Yard. She would have to break the news gently to Millie that Davy would be going away to sea, and she must prepare Dolly for Ted’s funeral: she didn’t know which task was going to be the harder.

  After the funeral, when everything had been paid for, including a modest wake held at Paddy’s Goose, Eliza counted out the remainder of the money from the cash box. With strict economy, they might be able to live until Christmas, but without any income from the shop, and only half the rent from the property in Bird Street, it was going to be difficult.

  Millie had moped about for a day or two after being told that Davy was looking for a shipmaster to take him on, and then without saying a word to Eliza she went out early one morning, returning late in the evening. By this time, Eliza was sick with worry, and she was about to send Davy out looking for her when Millie came breezing through the door, looking very pleased with herself. Eliza’s initial outburst of anger was tempered with relief and then concern when she saw Millie’s dishevelled and exhausted state. She would not listen to explanations until Millie had supped a bowl of bread and milk.

  After she had eaten, Millie admitted that she had walked all the way to Covent Garden Market and had joined the women grubbing about amongst the flower stalls, picking up stray and broken blooms. The street flower sellers were a close-knit group who resented strangers encroaching on their territory, but they had seemed to take her youth into account and had not chased her off. The West End was their favoured place for setting up their pitches, and Millie had trudged all the way to the City where she had sold her nosegays on the steps of St Paul’s. She pressed five pennies into Eliza’s hand and blushed to the roots of her hair when Davy picked her up and kissed her on both cheeks.

  Two weeks later, and after many hours of footslogging around the docks and wharves, Davy had found a captain of a tea clipper bound for India who was only too pleased to take him on as a sailmaker. It was a tearful farewell. Eliza wept silently, trying to put a brave face on things, but Millie hung around his neck, sobbing as if her heart would break.

  Davy disentangled her arms and kissed her on the tip of her nose, smiling down into her tear-drenched blue eyes. ‘Goodbye, nipper. Be good for Liza. She’s going to need all your help.’

  ‘You treat me like a kid,’ Millie said, scowling.

  Davy tugged at her tumbled curls. ‘Don’t never grow up. Stay just as you are, young Millie. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.’

  ‘You don’t understand nothing.’ Millie’s voice broke on a sob. She pushed past him and raced up the stairs. The whole house shook as she slammed the door of the room she shared with Eliza.

  ‘What did I say?’ Davy turned to Eliza with a baffled look.

  She could not betray a confidence. ‘Don’t worry. She’ll get over it.’

  ‘Are you going somewhere then, Davy dear?’ Dolly had been drowsing under the influence of laudanum, but the slamming of the door had awakened her with a start. She stared at Davy with a bemused frown. ‘Are you going up West? Can I come with you?’


  Eliza tucked a crocheted blanket around her. ‘Not today, Mum. Maybe tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh, but I want to go up West today.’ Dolly’s lips trembled and her eyes misted with tears. ‘I need me medicine, Liza. I feel one of my turns coming on.’

  ‘It’s too soon, Mum. You had some not an hour ago.’

  ‘I’m shaking all over. I’m having one of me turns.’

  ‘Best go, Davy,’ Eliza said, reaching for the bottle of laudanum.

  ‘I’ll wait outside.’ Davy blew a kiss to Dolly and hurried out into the street.

  As soon as Dolly was settled, Eliza followed him. He was leaning against the wall, waiting for her. He smiled and held out his arms. ‘I’ll miss you, girl.’

  It seemed the most natural thing in the world to walk into his outstretched arms. Eliza smiled up into his face, realising just how much she would miss him. She had always taken Davy’s presence for granted, but now he was really leaving: going away for months, maybe even years. He held her close and kissed her long and hard on the lips. ‘I’ll take the memory of that with me, girl.’

  ‘Oh, Davy.’ Eliza choked back tears as she saw the naked emotion in his eyes. She couldn’t send him away thinking that she didn’t care for him. It was a dangerous life at sea. What if he never came back? What if he were to disappear from her life like Bart and Freddie? She slipped her arms around his neck and closing her eyes she pulled his head down until their lips met. With the thought of their parting clamping like a cold hand on her heart, she gave herself up to the sensuous delight of being held in a man’s arms and tasting the sweetness of her first real kiss. Something awakened inside her that was a need long denied, a heat and desire that was alien and frightening, but equally wonderful. Even as her body revelled in its first experience of sexual arousal, a small voice inside her head told her that this was wrong and she was cheating Davy by allowing it to happen. She tore her mouth free, pushing him away with the flat of her hands. This was all wrong – Davy was like a brother to her. For a mad, mad moment she had allowed herself to imagine that it was Freddie who held her in his arms, crushing her body against his, devouring her lips, touching her mind and soul and setting her pulses racing. She saw the hurt in Davy’s eyes and she turned her head away with a laugh that sounded, even to her own ears, more like a sob. ‘Get on with you, Davy. You’ll have me crying too in a moment. Best go now. Best go.’ When he did not answer, Eliza shot him an anxious glance beneath her lashes. She would remember that stark look for as long as she lived.