London Lodgings

Home > Other > London Lodgings > Page 28
London Lodgings Page 28

by Claire Rayner


  There was much to do and much to think of, but first of all she had to speak to Eliza, for she would be more affected by these new plans than anyone else in the house. And anyway, she always did tell Eliza everything.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  ‘OH!’ TILLY SAID and hesitated at the kitchen door, uncomfortable in a somewhat surprising way. There was no reason why Eliza should not be alone, yet seeing she had company startled her.

  Eliza sprang to her feet immediately, beaming from ear to ear. ‘Why, Mum, I never heard you comin’ down! Was there something –’

  ‘No, Eliza, it is quite all right. I can speak to you later. I did not know you had – urn – visitors.’

  ‘Oh, this isn’t visitors, Mum! That is, well, you know Charlie, that I do know. Charlie, what are you thinking of, sitting there like a great lummox?’

  The young man who had been sitting beside Eliza at a kitchen table spread with all manner of Christmas delicacies – mince pies, plum pudding and a jug of daffy – got to his feet at once. Tilly had been aware of two other people besides Eliza in the kitchen but it was hard to see them, for the oil lamp on the dresser had its wick turned low and the room was illuminated mainly by the leaping flames of the fire. Now she smiled as she recognized young Harrod.

  ‘Good evening to you, Charlie, and Christmas wishes to you. I trust you and your father are well?’

  ‘We are very well, Ma’am, and prospering, as I trust you are. And I do of course return your good wishes on behalf of my father as well as myself, and thank you for your custom in this past year, and we look forward to continuing it in 1862 as before. Now that I am in charge of the shop, I –’

  ‘Indeed?’ Tilly said hastily, not wishing to discuss Charlie Harrod’s business affairs, and glanced at the other figure who was now also standing. He was a square young man with thick dark hair which was clearly meant to be exuberantly curly but had been cut brutally short in order to control it. He had a round face and surprisingly blue eyes, considering the darkness of his hair, and he looked decidely uncomfortable as he stood there.

  ‘This is my friend James Leland from the linen draper’s on the other side but three of us in Middle Queen’s Buildings,’ Charlie said, clearly enjoying his role as old friend of the establishment. ‘I took the liberty of bringing him around to exchange the greetings of the season with Miss Horace.’

  ‘Miss – oh, yes,’ Tilly said. It was so rarely she heard Eliza’s surname that it came as a small shock to her to remember she had one at all. ‘How d’you do, Mr Leland.’

  ‘Your servant, Madam,’ the young man said. His voice was pleasant if rather choked with shyness and she smiled on him as kindly as she could.

  ‘I give you the greetings of the season too,’ she said. ‘Eliza, I would wish to speak to you on a – a matter that has arisen, but it will wait till Master Duff is in bed.’

  Eliza took the hint and at once was all bustle. ‘I’ll go and settle him right away,’ she said. ‘If he’s gone up, Mum and the – the others have gone?’ Tilly heard the note of disapproval in her tone and took no notice. That Eliza should be suspicious of Dorcas was natural enough; she had after all loathed her mother most cordially. That was why it was so important to explain carefully why Dorcas was to move into number seventeen. Tilly nodded briskly at Eliza.

  ‘Yes, and he is getting ready now. I shall make his bread and milk and fetch it up directly.’

  ‘We must go,’ Charlie said regretfully. ‘Back to our lodgings. Not such good ones as these, Mrs Quentin, but well enough for Jem and me.’

  ‘I would have expected you to spend the holiday with your parents,’ Tilly said a touch dampeningly as she made way for Eliza to go upstairs to Duff. ‘Are they not expecting you?’

  ‘Oh, we’ve been there,’ Charlie said blithely. ‘And glad enough to get away again, for my Pa gets stuffier with each day that passes, and now that it has been agreed I shall have the running of the shop he is stuffier than ever.’ He grinned with self-satisfaction. ‘We thought it politic to leave before too long and let him recover his peace of mind – for my Mamma’s sake, if none other. So we came to see Eliza – Miss Horace.’

  ‘Eliza sounds well enough to me,’ Tilly said drily and moved across the kitchen to the scullery. ‘Well, time to make my son’s supper.’

  ‘And we must leave,’ Jem said and pushed his friend sharply in the ribs. ‘I told you it was an imposition to go calling on Christmas Day.’

  ‘It is no imposition,’ Tilly said, as she fetched a pan from the scullery and went to the big stone bread crock to get some sweet white bread. ‘I have told Eliza she is always more than welcome to have her friends to visit. I recall others being here – Caroline, was it? – er – a Miss Godsmark, as I remember.’

  Charlie went a bright pink and Jem Leland produced a soft chuckle.

  ‘That is his intended, Mrs Quentin,’ he said. ‘She is the real reason he is so restless. She is with her family today and he is not invited. And with me not encumbered by any relations, why, he attached himself to me. We are calling on all his friends.’

  Tilly laughed and cocked an eye at the still blushing Charlie as she tipped cubes of bread into a saucepan and added a large knob of butter and half a jugful of rich milk together with a spoonful of honey from the comb. ‘And I thought it was our Eliza who interested you!’

  ‘She is my friend, Ma’am, and always has been. It’s been six years now.’ Charlie glared at Jem.

  ‘Indeed it has,’ Tilly said and set the pan on the fire, to stand and watch it carefully, aware of the pleasant heat of the flames on her face. ‘A long time.’ She felt old, suddenly; she was not so very long in the tooth herself, but she was a widow and had a son, and a great deal of responsibility. She would be twenty-four in the coming year, not a girl any more, but still hardly old; yet she felt it, reminiscing in this fashion with the young Charlie.

  ‘Well,’ she said. ‘I am sure she will continue your good friend. She is a very loyal person, Eliza.’

  ‘I told Jem that. That was why I fetched him here. It is high time she had a follower of her own, don’t you think, Ma’am? She will be looking about her, I dare say – all girls wish to be wed, after all.’

  She looked up at him, startled. She had not thought much about the possibility of Eliza wanting a husband, but of course the time would come. Eliza was no longer the child Tilly still sometimes thought her. She must be – she worked it out – twenty this year coming. Well old enough to be considering a husband, and she bent her head over the bread-and-milk, which was beginning to bubble in the pan. Life without Eliza in this house was an almost impossible thought after all these busy years.

  ‘Well, I dare say,’ she said and took the pan from the flames and tipped its contents into the blue and white striped bowl which was Duff’s favourite. ‘And are you interested, Mr Leland?’ Again she felt old; to be discussing a young man’s matchmaking plans was to be very senior indeed, positively haggish.

  ‘No, Ma’am,’ Jem Leland said so firmly that Tilly looked up at him startled.

  ‘Oh? Has Eliza offended you in some way?’

  ‘Not at all, Ma’am. It’s just that I am not prepared to think of such matters. I am in a very small way of business yet, and though the shop is my own it will be some years before it is in any sort of situation to support a married man. Had I known that this was in Charlie’s mind, I can assure you I would not be here.’ He looked at his friend sharply. ‘He did not speak of it to me.’

  ‘Then I hope he did not speak to Eliza either.’ Tilly smiled, her heart suddenly lightened. It was selfish of her, she knew, but it would be a great blow to lose Eliza’s constant attentions to her and her household. If she were to become enamoured of a young man there was no knowing what might go wrong below stairs. Followers were a known source of much trouble with servants, Tilly knew perfectly well. She had heard too much comment on such matters from other ladies with household responsibilities to be in any doubt.

&nbs
p; ‘So, we will leave, Ma’am,’ Jem Leland said and bowed stiffly. ‘Charlie –’

  ‘Yes, well,’ Charlie said a little sulkily. ‘If you will give Miss – Eliza our good wishes and say good-night.’

  ‘With pleasure, Charlie,’ Tilly said gravely and watched them go and then smiled again. Well, he would get over it. When next she went to put in an order at the shop she would discuss with him his business plans, which he would enjoy, she knew, and that would comfort him. And she dismissed him and his friend from her mind and took herself off upstairs with the blue and white bowl and a big spoon, remembering just in time to sprinkle some crushed sugar and a little cinnamon on the top, to give it the taste Duff most liked.

  The two women went through the bedtime ritual with their usual contented rhythm and Duff, particularly sleepy tonight and therefore more than usually co-operative, was soon tucked up in bed spooning up his bread-and-milk as Tilly read him his bedtime story about the doings of the three bears and Eliza tidied away the bath and folded his clothes neatly ready for the morning.

  Duff was asleep almost before they left the room, and as Eliza took the tray and empty bowl down to the kitchen Tilly lingered in the doorway to look back at him. In the soft glow of the light, his face promised so much beauty to come that she felt the familiar rush of adoration. Love him dearly as she did when he was awake and rushing about the house like a small tornado, when he was asleep and vulnerable her very bones seemed to melt at the sight of him, and she went back and kissed his cheek; and he murmured and reached up one warm arm, fragrant with soap from his bath, and hugged her and then was asleep again. She tucked in his sheet, quite unnecessarily, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

  ‘They said good-night,’ Tilly said. ‘I did not realize that Charlie was – he and your friend Caroline –’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Eliza said cheerfully as she moved about the kitchen clearing away the dishes. They’ve been hand-fast these past eighteen months. As soon as he makes enough money from the shop they’ll be wed, and I shall be her bridesmaid. It’s all arranged. I think his father as mean a man as they come, but then rich men is mean, ain’t they?’ She nodded wisely. ‘I mean he’s got another shop, over in the City at Eastcheap, so why make Charlie buy this one from ’im? You’d think a good father’d give it to him like, wouldn’t you, and not be so grasping?’ She leaned on the broom she had fetched to sweep away the few crumbs that had fallen on to the stone flags. ‘But then, I’m just a country girl, and a poor widder’s daughter. I got no knowledge of such matters.’

  ‘Perhaps you should have, Eliza,’ Tilly said, trying to sound light. ‘Maybe one day you will wed such a young man as Charlie.’

  ‘Me, wed?’ Eliza stared at her, scandalized. ‘Wed? I would not be so stupid, Mum! I like to have young men as friends – it does a girl good to be fussed over – but wed ’em and you gets no more fussin’ and a great deal of trouble.’ She began to sweep at the crumbs with some vigour. ‘I seen too much of other girls to think otherwise, Mum. Besides, I got enough to do here.’

  ‘I would not wish to hold you back, Eliza,’ Tilly said and Eliza looked up at her sharply.

  ‘Hold me back? You couldn’t do that, Mum. You’re – why, you brung me forwards better than anyone could ever imagine.

  I’m housekeeper here, and proud to be it! How can you ever think –’

  ‘Eliza!’ Tilly said hastily, realizing she had gone too far and that another avowal of Eliza’s adoration was trembling on the end of her tongue. ‘There is a matter I must discuss with you. It is about Dorcas – sit down and we shall talk.’

  ‘Dorcas?’ Eliza propped her broom against the dresser and sat down. ‘What about her, Mum?’

  Tilly thought for a moment and then decided to go in directly with no devious softening of language. ‘She wishes to live here with her little girl. At first I thought it an impossible scheme, but now – well, we must talk of it.’

  Eliza looked down at her rough red hands, which were loosely folded on the table before her. Her head, its frilled cap askew as usual on her unruly hair, seemed to droop a little. ‘Mrs Leander’s daughter?’

  ‘I thought about that,’ Tilly said. ‘But I do not think she is the same. Anyway the plan she has will not – let me explain.’ And she did, as succinctly as she could, trying not to paint too glowing a picture of the benefits – the new cooking stove (at which Eliza glanced at the old-fashioned open fire and looked yearning for a moment) and the decorating and new furniture promised – and then added, ‘You will not be able to manage single-handed. I will have to get you a housemaid, and even perhaps a tweeny to deal with the dirty work. You will have much organizing and cooking to do if they come. She will pay well enough, you see, for us to afford it.’

  All through this discourse Eliza had sat with her head bent except for that brief glance at the fire, and now she lifted her chin and stared at Tilly. She looked troubled.

  ‘That there Dorcas was always the pushy sort,’ she said bluntly. ‘It’s not for me to say, Mum, but I’m going to say it all the same. Was this your notion or hers?’

  ‘Hers,’ Tilly said steadily. ‘I told you. At first I was not sure. Not at all. But then as she talked I saw the benefits. And there is also, of course, Duff.’

  ‘Duff?’ Eliza was at once alert, for her adoration of Duff couldn’t have been more than a whisper less than his mother’s. ‘What of him?’

  ‘He adores the child Sophie. If you had but seen them together, Eliza! He watched her and played with her – he was quite bewitched. He says he wishes her to live here, though there was a moment when he doubted. Just as I did. And just as I think you are. But then he was certain.’

  Eliza was silent for a while and then she nodded. ‘I can see the good of it clear enough. A bit o’ money comin’ into a house never does no harm. But she’s a funny one, that Dorcas.’

  ‘I know it well,’ Tilly said with great feeling. ‘I have known her since I was a small child, and in those days she by turns terrified and entranced me. It is so difficult – but I am fully grown now and if she misbehaves I will not be terrified again! Angry perhaps, but not terrified. I can and will always make it plain to her that if she upsets any of us in any way, then she will have to leave. This remains my house, after all, and always will.’

  Eliza grinned suddenly. ‘You sound like you’re talking to her and not to me, Mum.’

  Tilly grinned. ‘I know. I am, perhaps, practising. But I would so speak to her if we agreed. Do we agree, Eliza?’

  Again Eliza looked at the fire, and then sighed deeply. ‘A new stove would be a grand thing,’ she said longingly. ‘I’ve got a dunnamany good receipts in my drawer here what I could cook if I had a modern stove. With proper rails in the front of the fire basket and a set o’ close covers and no more spit to grease the room up so cruel.’ She looked up at the ceiling. ‘That was whitewashed not three months ago, wasn’t it? And don’t it scream for a new coat? If it lasts till we spring-clean in February I’ll be as surprised as – well, there it is. No spit would be a delight. And if you tells her clear and strong that if she makes trouble out she goes – well, we’ll have the stove then, won’t we?’ And she grinned widely.

  Tilly shook her head in reproof. ‘I should not let you be so – well, there it is. I shall agree then. But I wish you to understand that it is important the house runs as smoothly as it does now and that the Misses K and F are not discommoded. They are our old friends now, after all.’

  ‘They won’t be,’ Eliza said sturdily. ‘I’ll not fuss unduly, you have my word on that. Have I ever –’

  ‘No,’ Tilly said and leaned over and patted the rough red hands. ‘No, you have not. So it is settled. Now, let’s have a little supper of our own. I cannot eat much after so splendid a dinner as you gave us, but perhaps a little cold collation would be agreeable.’

  ‘I’ll take some up to the Misses,’ Eliza got to her feet. ‘As soon as you’ve got yours up in the dining-room and then –’


  ‘No need to run to the dining-room, just for me. I let the fire go out there anyway. I shall stay down here, Eliza, if you will have me.’ And Eliza dimpled and beamed happily.

  It was agreed that the Misses Knapp and Fleetwood would have their suppers first and while Eliza prepared them, Tilly went to her room to wash and tidy herself, for she felt gritty after a long day of entertaining people and playing with two children. She returned afresh to the kitchen to find the table neatly set for her own supper and no sign of Eliza. Clearly she was still upstairs with the Misses K and F, and while she waited Tilly looked at the table and discovered she did have an appetite after all.

  Eliza had set a plate of newly cut ham and cold beef, and a bowl of winter salad made up largely of celery and the mustard and cress Eliza grew herself in the scullery on trays of old linen cloth. She had garnished the salad with beetroot and hard-boiled eggs in the manner of one of the illustrations in her newest and most favoured magazine, Mr Beeton’s English-woman’s Domestic Magazine. There was also a basket of fresh rolls which Eliza had baked that morning, and a piece of plum pudding and mince pies set under a cover. All this together with the kettle singing on the fire and the coffee pot standing ready in the hearth alongside, waiting for the water, made a very inviting scene indeed. Tilly sat down, enjoying it greatly and very conscious of Eliza’s efficiency. She had even remembered to set on the table Tilly’s favourite pickled walnuts which she had put up last year.

  She almost jumped out of her bodice when the door to the area opened. She whirled, swallowing a mouthful of ham and holding her napkin to her mouth to stare with wide, terrified eyes over it.

  ‘Oh, I am sorry! I had hoped there would be no one here and I could find them and be gone!’ A head appeared round the door followed by a stocky body and she let out a sigh of relief.

 

‹ Prev