by Dilly Court
After supper that evening, Clemency had just finished regaling Jack and the others with an account of the fashionable promenade in the park, carefully omitting any mention of her nefarious activities, when the bell connected to the drawing room began to jingle on its spring. Augustus rose from the table with a sigh. ‘Oh, really! Anyone would think that I was being paid to wait hand and foot on them above stairs.’
‘Well, you are in a way, old chap,’ Ronnie said, dabbing his mouth with a linen napkin. ‘Paid in kind with food and lodging, as we all are.’
‘That’s called slavery.’ Fancy refilled her glass with small ale from a pitcher. ‘Yes, I’m grateful for a roof over me head and three square meals a day, but we’re stuck here and totally dependent on Mr Jared Stone. If he takes it into his head to throw us out on the street, we can’t do nothing about it.’
‘It’s true,’ Jack said moodily, lighting a Woodbine, and inhaling deeply.
The bell jangled impatiently. ‘All right. Keep your hair on, I’m coming.’ Augustus strode across the floor to the stairs. ‘Sometimes I think I prefer the life of a street entertainer. If only my little nightingale would return to her loving papa.’ He barged through the baize door, allowing it to swing shut behind him with an emphatic bang.
‘You see, Clem,’ Fancy said, passing the pitcher to Jack, ‘you got it easy, mixing with the toffs upstairs, and leading the life of a lady.’
‘That’s not fair. You don’t know half of what I have to put up with.’
‘Oh, pardon me. I was forgetting how hard it must be to be forced to wear expensive duds, and be taken for strolls in the parks up West, pretending to be something you ain’t.’
Clemency opened her mouth to put Fancy in her place, but Jack held up his hand. ‘Fancy, that’s not fair. Clemmie’s the one who got us off the streets, and if Stone has taken a liking to her, and wants her for a companion to his sister, then we should count ourselves lucky. We could still be dossing in that abandoned church or camping under the stage in the theatre.’
Fancy swallowed a mouthful of beer. ‘I know that, Jack. All I’m saying is that she’s got the best of it. Some of us has to work hard for our bread.’
Ronnie gave Clemency a shrewd look. ‘I think Clemmie works hard too. She’s brushed up on her reading a treat, and she’s learning to speak the Queen’s English just like them above stairs.’
‘Yes, and where will it lead?’ Fancy stuck her chin out with a belligerent gleam in her eyes. ‘I’m working me fingers to the bone. Augustus is at the beck and call of them above stairs, and you and Jack are out in all weathers playing in the band for pennies. It ain’t fair.’
‘Shut up!’ Clemency’s patience snapped, and she leapt to her feet. ‘I’ve had enough of your whining, Fancy Friday. At least you’ve got a decent room to sleep in now with a proper bed and clean sheets. Anyway, you chose to work in the kitchen rather than act as maid to Miss Isobel and me, like Jared said you should.’
‘Huh! Wait on you? That’ll be the day.’ Fancy stood up, waving her hand in front of Clemency’s face so that the stone flashed in the gaslight. ‘You’ll have to be more respectful when Jack and me get hitched. I’ll be your sister-in-law all legal and proper, and he’s the head of the family, so you’ll have to mind what I say. At least I got a fellow, which is more than you can say for yourself, Miss High and Mighty.’
Clemency stared at her in shock. She knew, of course, that Fancy still resented her, and that their truce was only superficial: she had seen the ring on Fancy’s fourth finger, but it had never occurred to her that Jack had proposed marriage. She turned to him, frowning. ‘Is this true? Have you asked her to marry you?’
Avoiding her eyes, he tossed his cigarette butt into the fire. ‘I ain’t in a position to take a wife and Fancy knows it.’
‘But we have an understanding,’ Fancy said, standing behind him and laying her hands on his shoulders. ‘Tell her, Jack. Tell your snooty sister that we’ll get married one day, whether she likes it or not.’
Jack covered Fancy’s hand with his, and he raised his eyes to cast an appealing glance at Clemency. ‘I loves her, Clemmie. And for some strange reason, she loves me. Although how a girl like Fancy could fall for a useless cripple is beyond my understanding.’
The muscles in Clemency’s throat constricted; she felt a rush of pity, mixed with impatience for Jack’s self-deprecating attitude. ‘You mustn’t talk like that. Tomorrow you’re going to see Mr Chance at the hospital. He may be able to help you, Jack. You mustn’t give up.’
‘I won’t let him.’ Fancy slid her arms around Jack’s neck in a protective gesture. ‘He’ll walk again. You’ll see.’
‘We’re all behind you, Jack,’ Ronnie said, clearing his throat.
‘I know you are.’ Jack’s bottom lip trembled. ‘But it don’t pay to get our hopes up too much. And there’s the cost of it all. I know that Stone said he’d pay for the first visit, but I can’t expect him to stump up the rest.’
‘No? Well he shouldn’t make promises that he can’t keep. I’ll have a few words with Mr Stone.’ Clemency left them before anyone had time to question her. She was halfway up the main staircase when she met Augustus on his way down.
He stopped, holding out his hand, palm upwards. ‘I take it all back,’ he said, staring down at two golden sovereigns. ‘Stone gave this to me saying that it was part payment of our wages. Said he didn’t expect us to work for nothing, and that he was sorry he hadn’t coughed up before, but business had been a bit unreliable. He is a gent, Clem. A real gent.’ With a dazed look on his face, he continued on his way.
Clemency watched him until he was out of sight. She must have done better than she had thought on her first attempt at picking pockets in Hyde Park. Jared was obviously in a good mood. She hurried on to the drawing room, and entered without bothering to knock. She had expected to find Isobel sitting in her usual chair, pretending to be absorbed in her embroidery, or reading a book, but Jared was alone. He rose from his seat and his smile seemed genuine. ‘Clemency, this is a pleasure. You don’t usually seek my company. Or were you looking for Izzie? I’m afraid she retired to bed early with a headache.’
It was still light outside, the long summer evenings having begun. A shadow of suspicion crossed Clemency’s mind. It was unlike Isobel to suffer even the slightest of headaches; she was an unusually robust young lady, even if she did have the delicate appearance of a china doll. If it had been anyone else, Clemency would have suspected that she had made the excuse of a headache in order to slip out and meet a young man. But, of course, that was impossible. Isobel would have told her if she was seeing anyone. Wouldn’t she? She gathered her scattered thoughts with difficulty. ‘Actually, I wanted to speak to you, Jared. In private.’
His eyebrows rose in twin arcs of surprise. ‘Really? You’d better sit down and tell me what’s troubling you. Is it your mother?’
She remained standing, clasping her hands behind her back. ‘No, it’s not Ma. It’s about Jack’s appointment at the hospital.’
‘Which is tomorrow afternoon. You see, I hadn’t forgotten.’
‘I know, and I’m very grateful to you for arranging it. But I want to know if I’ve earned enough to pay for whatever treatment the doctor thinks is necessary? You never mentioned paying me for me – I mean – for my services.’
He eyed her speculatively. ‘No, I didn’t.’
‘I just seen – I mean, I just saw Augustus on the stairs, and he showed me the money you’d given him for our wages.’ She hesitated, twisting her hands together, and finding it difficult to continue. ‘Does that include me? What I’m trying to say is, I don’t want Jack’s hopes raised. Fair enough, if the doctor says he can’t do nothing – anything – to help him. But what if he says that he can do something to make Jack walk again, and we can’t afford to pay the bill?’
Jared took a step towards her. ‘Have you such a low opinion of me, Clemency? Do you really think that I would have suggested the con
sultation without intending to see that the treatment was followed through?’
She stared down at the Chinese carpet, concentrating on the pink and blue flower pattern. ‘I dunno.’
‘Look at me, Clemency. Give me your hands.’
She raised her eyes: his steel-blue gaze was hypnotic. Seemingly powerless to refuse, she unclasped her hands and allowed him to hold them. She felt the now familiar shiver of excitement at his touch. He drew her nearer, and she did not pull away. She was locked in his spell, unable to speak or move. The nearness of him was making her feel breathless and light-headed. She closed her eyes, and this time she was not disappointed. His lips touched hers as tenderly as a summer breeze or the soft brush of a butterfly’s wings. His arms slid round her waist, and he held her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe, or perhaps it was the pumping of her heart that was robbing her lungs of air, and weakening her will. Beneath his soft caresses, her lips opened, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. As his kisses grew more demanding, she felt herself responding with a passion that she could never have imagined. She was lost in time and space, and she never wanted the sweet sensations flowing through her veins to stop. But suddenly, and without warning, he released her, and she stood alone, cold and bereft.
‘I’m sorry, Clemency,’ he said, moving swiftly to stand by the window with his back to her. ‘I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.’
‘No. I mean, you didn’t. I wanted you to kiss me, just as I wanted you to the other day in Hog Yard. Don’t say it meant nothing to you. I won’t believe it if you do.’
He half turned, giving her a rueful smile. ‘You know so little about men, despite your appalling upbringing. I am truly sorry, my dear. It won’t happen again. And, before you ask me a second time, yes, I promise that I will pay for Jack’s treatment. We will have him walking again, if it’s humanly possible. On my honour, I swear it.’
‘Your honour? What do you know of honour?’ A moment ago her lips had tingled with his kisses, but now they burned as the scathing words tumbled from them. ‘You’re as black-hearted as Hardiman. You think you can play with a girl’s feelings – pick her up and drop her down again, like a toy. Well, I got news for you, Mr Stone. I ain’t a toy. I might be a common girl from Stew Lane, but I can be hurt just as much as a young lady from Finsbury Circus. If you ever touch me again, I – I’ll stab you with …’ She looked round for a suitable weapon, and spotting Isobel’s embroidery scissors on a side table she snatched them up. ‘I’ll do for you.’ A sob rose in her throat, threatening to choke her, and tears poured down her cheeks.
Jared opened his mouth to speak, but Clemency threw the scissors into the empty grate and fled. She raced along the landing to her room and went inside, slamming the door behind her. She turned the key in the lock and threw herself down on the bed. Her whole body shook with a storm of sobbing. All her pent-up anger and emotions were raging beyond her control. She pummelled the pillows with her fists, cursing herself for being a fool. She had broken her own rule, and done the one thing that she had so far managed to avoid: she had ignored all the little warning signs and allowed herself to fall in love. How could she have been so blind to her own feelings? Well, he wasn’t worth it – no man, apart from Jack, was worthy of a second thought. She raised herself up on her elbow, hiccuping and sniffing. Ned was all right too, if he was kept in order. And Ronnie was a good sort, but then he was too old to try to take advantage of a girl; he must be at least forty-five, she thought, past the first flush of youth and heading for old age. Augustus was not all bad, and he was more of a father figure. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, slid off the bed, and went over to the washstand to dash cold water on her face. She walked slowly to the window to gaze down on the Circus, wiping her face on a towel. The trees in the gardens were turning sepia in the gathering dusk, and starlings were swooping in black clouds to roost noisily beneath the eaves of the tall buildings. The lamplighter was making his rounds on the pavement below, using his long pole to send the gaslights squirming inside the glass globes like captive fireflies.
Clemency leaned her hot forehead against the cool glass windowpane. She felt calmer now, and oddly relieved of all the conflicting emotions that had crowded inside her breast. After all, things weren’t really so bad. Ma was on the mend, Jack would be seeing the bone doctor tomorrow, and Fancy was a pain in the neck, but she was good for him. As to Jared – she would keep him firmly in his place. Their relationship from now on would be purely a business one. She would keep him locked out of her heart, and she would make sure that he never had the opportunity to make a fool of her again.
She was gazing absently at the street below, barely noticing the people who were out for an evening stroll or hurrying homeward after working late in the City, when she spotted a familiar figure. Forgetting everything else, she craned her neck as she saw Isobel walking arm in arm with a tall man. Clemency held her breath. She had been so wrapped up in her own troubles that she had not thought to wonder whether the sound of her sobbing had disturbed Isobel, who slept in the adjacent room, and was supposed to have retired early with a headache. She was certainly not suffering now. On the contrary, Isobel’s face was illuminated in a shaft of lamplight as she gazed up at her companion, and Clemency could see that she was smiling. They seemed to be deep in conversation, and then the man took off his bowler hat, leaning over a little to kiss Isobel, who slid her arms around his neck. Clemency could only hope that Jared was not looking out of the window at this particular moment. She willed Isobel to be careful, although she could see by the way they clung together that the two of them were very much in love. A shaft of something like jealousy pierced her heart, and, for a moment, she found herself envying Isobel. Then common sense told her that there must be a good reason for the clandestine meeting, and she felt a rush of sympathy for the young lovers. ‘Say goodbye to him, Izzie,’ she whispered. ‘If you tarry beneath the gaslight someone will see you, and you’d better pray that it isn’t Jared.’ She watched until Isobel managed to tear herself away from the young man. Blowing him a kiss, she ran up the steps to the house, and out of Clemency’s range of vision. He waited by the streetlight for a long time, and she could see that he was quite young, dark-haired and wearing steel-rimmed spectacles that gave him a serious and studious air. He wore a dark suit, but did not look particularly prosperous. Clemency wondered if he was a bank clerk, or perhaps a reporter from one of the newspaper offices in Fleet Street. She heard Isobel’s bedroom door open and then close. The young man looked up and waved. Clemency moved back behind the curtain, realising that Isobel must have rushed to her bedroom window to wave a final farewell. She took another peek, just in time to see him walk away. She drew the curtains, shutting out the night. She waited for a few moments, half expecting Isobel to come knocking on her door, eager to share a confidence, but there was silence from her room. Clemency undressed and slipped on her cambric nightgown. Completely exhausted and drained of emotion, she went to bed, closed her eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.
At two o’clock next day, a hospital porter wheeled Jack into Mr Chance’s consulting room, with Fancy following close behind them. There had been a brief battle of wills when Clemency had insisted that as his sister she ought to accompany him, but Fancy had fought back, saying that she was his fiancée and that gave her the right to be with him during the consultation. Clemency had been on the verge of slapping her, when Jared had put an end to the argument by siding with Fancy. Reluctantly, Clemency had obeyed his instruction to take a seat next to Isobel. She was still furious with him for kissing her when it meant nothing to him, and even more angry with herself for caring. She had been dismayed when he said he would accompany them to the hospital as he was acquainted with Mr Chance. She was not quite sure why Isobel had wanted to come too, until the door to the waiting room opened and a young doctor entered the room. Even though he was now wearing a starched white coat, she recognised the young man who had kissed Isobel so tenderly last evening. S
he turned to look at Isobel and saw that she was blushing and smiling.
‘Good afternoon. I am Dr Nicholas Wilson, Mr Chance’s houseman.’
Jared held out his hand. ‘How do you do, Doctor? I am Mr Skinner’s employer, and I wish to be kept fully informed of his treatment and progress.’
‘Of course, sir.’ Nicholas shook Jared’s hand. ‘I will be supervising Mr Skinner’s treatment, under instruction from Mr Chance himself. If you have any questions after the initial consultation, I will be pleased to answer them.’ He smiled and nodded to Isobel and then Clemency. She couldn’t help noticing that his eyes rested for a moment longer on Isobel than would have been considered polite on a first meeting. He went into the consulting room, closing the door behind him. Isobel was blushing furiously, and Clemency could only hope that Jared had not noticed.
‘He seems a reasonable sort of chap,’ he said, taking a seat next to her. ‘You needn’t look so worried, I’m sure that Jack is in very good hands.’
