Ragged Rose

by Dilly Court

  ‘You will, of course.’ Rose moved to Maisie’s side, but when she attempted to stroke his head Spartacus opened one eye and stopped purring. She withdrew her hand hastily. ‘I’m leaving now, Maisie, but I know you’ll be well cared for here, and I might see you this evening.’

  ‘You’re coming back just to see me?’ Maisie stared at her in surprise. ‘Really?’

  ‘Of course. I want to make sure that you’re happy and settled, but Cora and I usually call in to see Aunt Polly after work.’

  ‘You work? What do you do? I thought you was rich.’

  ‘It would take too long to explain now.’ Rose looked to her aunt for help, but Polly shrugged. ‘But we’ll talk about it some other time.’

  Maisie set Spartacus down on the floor. ‘You won’t just leave me here, will you, miss?’ Her voice rose in panic as she caught Rose by the sleeve. ‘I’m scared.’

  ‘There’s no need to be frightened,’ Rose said, giving her a quick hug. ‘Aunt Polly is the kindest person I know, and I come here often so you’ll see quite a lot of me. I won’t abandon you, Maisie.’

  With obvious reluctance Maisie released her hold. ‘All right. I believe you, miss.’ She shot a sideways glance at Polly. ‘If you’re sure she’s all right.’

  ‘I may seem old to a child like you,’ Polly said irritably, ‘but I’m not deaf. Come and sit down, you silly girl, and I’ll tell you what your duties will be.’

  Rose hesitated in the doorway, giving Maisie an encouraging nod and a smile.

  ‘I ain’t afraid of hard work.’ Maisie perched on the edge of a chair. ‘I’m used to scrubbing floors and washing dishes.’

  ‘That’s as maybe, but we have all those jobs in hand. I think I will put you in charge of Spartacus. He’s a grumpy old chap and most of my girls are scared of him, and Cook chases him with a carving knife when he steals food from the larder. It will be your job to take care of him and make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.’

  Maisie put her head on one side, eyeing Polly like an inquisitive robin. ‘If he’s such a pest why do you keep him?’

  ‘Because he’s a brilliant mouser and rat catcher. He earns his living, but he has to be kept in order. Can you do that? Speak up if it’s too much for you.’

  ‘It ain’t much of a job. I’d say it was more a pleasure. I’ll do it and more.’

  Polly held out her hand. ‘Then we have a deal.’

  Rose was smiling as she left the house. Aunt Polly had hit on the one thing that would make it easier for Maisie to settle into her new home. Coming as she did from a reasonably close family, Rose could only imagine what it must be like to be raised in an institution. She quickened her pace; this was the day when she and Cora visited the sick and the needy in the parish, taking jars of calf’s-foot jelly and beef tea. If Mrs Blunt was feeling particularly generous she would add some of her small sweet cakes, which she said would tempt the most jaded appetite. Rose took charge of these in case Cora was tempted to sample a few during the long walk; a habit that had endured since childhood when their mother had been well enough to undertake parish duties.

  She arrived home to find Cora alone in the dining room, yawning and seemingly half-asleep over a bowl of porridge.

  ‘Have you seen Pa this morning?’ Rose asked.

  ‘He was called out to baptise a newborn that wasn’t expected to live,’ Cora said sleepily.

  Rose reached for the coffee pot and filled a cup, adding a dash of milk and a lump of sugar. The walk in the chill of the early morning had sharpened her appetite, and, even though she had eaten earlier, she buttered a slice of toast. ‘Is Ma up yet?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Cora pushed her plate away. ‘Mrs Blunt said you’d taken Maisie to Aunt Polly.’

  ‘I did and you’ll never guess what happened.’ Rose bit into the toast, chewed and swallowed. She reached for the raspberry jam and spooned some on the side of her plate.

  ‘I’m too tired to work out a conundrum, Rosie. I couldn’t sleep for thinking of Gerard.’

  Rose paused with the toast halfway to her lips. ‘Gerard? Who is he?’

  ‘The handsome young man I was talking to at Fancello’s last night. Didn’t you see him?’

  ‘I saw dozens of men, but the only one I remember was the dear old colonel. He was such a gentleman.’

  Cora sighed. ‘Gerard is a gentleman. He’s the Honourable Gerard Barclay, and he’s the younger son of Lord Barclay.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, Cora, show a little sense,’ Rose said crossly.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Cora’s lips formed a sulky pout. ‘You’re just jealous.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I can’t even remember what he looked like, but he’ll be a toff on the lookout for a pretty girl to flirt and amuse himself with.’

  ‘You don’t know that. He was perfectly charming.’

  ‘I’m sure he was, but if he’s there tonight you must ignore him. Don’t allow yourself to be taken in. I don’t know anything about him or his family, but what I do know is that they don’t mix with the likes of us.’

  ‘We’re perfectly respectable girls. Pa is a clergyman. He speaks directly to God.’

  Rose choked on a mouthful of coffee, unable to stifle a chuckle. ‘Tell that to Lord Barclay and note his reaction. I’m sorry, Corrie dear, but you know the rules. We mustn’t get involved with anyone at Fancello’s. We have to carry on until we have enough money to hire a lawyer.’

  ‘I hadn’t forgotten. How could I forget? But I think sometimes you get carried away with being on the stage. I think you enjoy it.’

  ‘I do. I admit that, and you do too, if you’re being honest. I love the excitement and the applause, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to perform at the Grecian or the Pavilion, but that’s not going to happen.’ Rose finished her slice of toast and drained her cup. ‘Come on, Corrie. We’ve got to do our duty in the parish, but tonight we can put on our greasepaint and our costumes and make believe. Gerard comes into that category, and you must keep him there. He mustn’t find out who you are.’

  Cora rose from her seat. ‘I know, and yes, you’re right.’

  ‘I understand it’s hard, Cora,’ Rosa said gently, ‘but we’re doing well so far.’ She stood up, brushing crumbs from her skirt. ‘I’m going to see if Mrs Blunt has finished packing the baskets and then we’ll set off. At least it’s not raining and the sun is trying to come out, so maybe it will be a nice day after all.’

  Despite her cheerful words Rose could not help feeling anxious as she made her way to the kitchen. Cora was sweet-natured and affectionate, and she always saw the best in people. Gerard Barclay had obviously made a deep impression on her and it could prove disastrous. Rose loved her sister and she was determined to protect her, but they must not lose sight of their goal. She opened the kitchen door and was greeted by a flustered Mrs Blunt.

  ‘Thank goodness you came. There’s a messenger at the back door who refuses to go away unless he speaks to you in person. I tried to make him see sense, but he says he’ll stand there all day if necessary.’

  ‘Really? I don’t know who that could be.’ Rose frowned, thinking hard. ‘I’ll go and see what he wants.’

  Chapter Three

  Rose hurried through the scullery, wondering why a messenger would choose the back door over the front entrance. It seemed unusual for one of her father’s flock to make a mystery of what would probably turn out to be a request to visit the dying or a plea for help. She opened the door and came face to face with a scruffy youth whose ragged clothes might have fitted him once, but were now too short in the arms, and his trouser legs ended an inch or so above his shabby boots where the uppers had come away from the soles, exposing muddy toes.

  ‘Can I help you?’ she asked warily.

  ‘I got a message for you, miss.’ The boy glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting to see spies lurking in the shrubbery.

  ‘Well, what is it?’

  ‘A certain gent what’s been
doing work for a professional person in Cornwall has asked to see you, miss. It’s urgent.’

  ‘I’m not sure I understand,’ Rose said carefully. ‘You’ll need to explain further.’

  The boy snatched off his battered cap exposing a mass of wildly curling red hair. ‘The gent what I speak of will be in The Eagle at noon. He begs you to attend, miss. He says it’s of the utmost importance.’

  ‘Has this man a name?’

  ‘He give me tuppence to keep mum. Will you come, miss? I’ll wait for you on the corner and take you there safe. You won’t come to no harm when you’re in the company of Bobby Lee.’

  Rose thought quickly. If she managed to persuade Cora to hurry they might be able to do the rounds before midday, or at least they could visit the most pressing cases, although what Pa would say if he knew she was about to venture into a public house was something she did not choose to dwell upon. She had probably damned her eternal soul for ever by exhibiting herself on stage, so one more transgression was unlikely to make any difference. She nodded. ‘All right, Bobby. I’ll meet you on the corner just before noon.’ She closed the door hastily and returned to the kitchen.

  ‘It was nothing,’ she said airily. ‘Just a youth desperate to find work. I sent him on his way.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Mrs Blunt said with a nod of approval. ‘He was probably hoping to cadge food, but these people shouldn’t be encouraged. There’s plenty of work out there for those who are willing to look hard enough for gainful employment.’ She sniffed and resumed kneading the bread dough as if she were beating it into submission.

  ‘I’m off then. Will you tell Mama that I’ll see her this afternoon? I didn’t want to disturb her this early in the morning.’ Rose picked up the heavy baskets and went to find her sister.

  She discovered Cora preening herself in the hall mirror. ‘You look very pretty as always, Corrie, but I doubt if we’ll meet the Honourable Gerard Barclay where we’re going this morning.’

  ‘You are such a tease, Rose. Just wait until you meet the man of your dreams, although I can’t imagine who could live up to your ideals. He would have to be a cross between Richard the Lionheart and Lord Byron.’

  ‘What an imagination you have, to be sure,’ Rose said, laughing at the vision Cora’s words had conjured up in her mind. ‘But I have to admit that it would be an interesting combination. Anyway, we’d best hurry or we’ll never get done.’

  All that morning, while handing out sympathy and nourishment to poor parishioners, Rose found it hard to concentrate on the task in hand. She let Cora do the talking, but that was not unusual as Cora had a way with people, especially those who were sick or aged. Rose was content to offer help, when required to do so, and give practical advice, should it be requested, otherwise she stood back and allowed her sister to shine. Everyone said that Miss Cora Perkins was a saint; Mrs Blunt had told Rose so with a smug smile, which confirmed Rose’s long-held suspicion that their housekeeper was also one of Cora’s many admirers. But jealousy had never been one of Rose’s failings, and she could quite see why her sister won hearts and minds. Cora was an angel whose only failing was vanity, although Rose considered this to be perfectly justified in someone who had the delicate beauty of a snowdrop, and a smile that would melt the hardest of hearts. Rose was well aware of her own worth, and if she were not quite as lovely as her sister, she knew that she had a quick mind and a ready wit. Her looks, as she had often been told, were striking and she had inherited the dark auburn hair and green eyes from her father’s side of the family. It was her brother, however, to whom she was especially close. When they were children she and Billy had often been mistaken for twins, and Rose felt his disgrace now as deeply as if it were her own. She missed him more than she could say, and she would do anything to bring her brother home, absolutely anything.

  She was waiting on the corner of City Road and Oakley Crescent when Bobby Lee came swaggering along the pavement, hands in pockets. He greeted her with a cheery smile and she followed him at a discreet distance to The Eagle. It was the first time she had stepped inside a public house and she wrapped her shawl around her head, hoping that no one would recognise her. Bobby weaved his way between tables in the crowded taproom, and Rose was acutely conscious of the curious stares aimed her way. He led her to a settle by the fire where a man sat on his own with a pint tankard on the table in front of him. Through a haze of tobacco smoke that stung her eyes and made her want to cough, Rose took a good look at the person who had requested her presence in such a dramatic manner.

  ‘This here is the gent.’ Bobby indicated the man with a sweep of his hand.

  ‘You must be Miss Rose. I’m Todd Scully.’ He half stood and then sank back on the settle. His dark eyes scanned Rose’s face as if he were memorising each feature in turn, but his expression gave nothing away. ‘Take a seat, miss.’

  Rose pulled up a stool and sat with her back to the rest of the drinkers. ‘Please say what you have to say, Mr Scully. I’m not comfortable in a place like this.’

  A tight little smile played around Scully’s thin lips. ‘That’s not what I heard, Miss Perkins, or should I say Miss Sunshine?’

  Rose glanced nervously over her shoulder, but the other customers were too involved in their own business to appear to be listening. ‘I don’t know where you got that piece of information, sir.’

  ‘Come on, miss. Don’t play games with me. I was hired by a certain someone in the county of Cornwall to find out all I could about the case in question, and, as you and your sister are related to the person at present incarcerated at Her Majesty’s pleasure, it seems logical to start with you.’

  ‘There’s not much I can tell you, Mr Scully. I don’t know the exact circumstances of the event.’

  Scully leaned forward, fixing her with bright, beady eyes, oddly reminiscent of a blackbird about to snatch a worm from the soil. ‘What do you know about the deceased? He was, I’ve been informed, your brother’s friend. They knew each other at Oxford.’

  Rose nodded dully. ‘Yes, that’s correct.’ She had met the young man in question on a couple of occasions when Billy had brought him to the vicarage for supper, but she had not been favourably impressed. Gawain Tressidick had struck her as being too full of his own importance, and although Billy had assured her that his friend came from an old and respected Cornish landowning family, she had not considered this to be an excuse for bad manners. Gawain had monopolised the conversation at dinner, and his patronising attitude to her parents had annoyed her to the extent that she had been tempted to get up and leave the room, but good manners had prevailed. It was tragic that he had lost his life in what appeared to have been a barroom brawl, but Rose could not believe that Billy had been involved. She knew that her brother had gone through a wild stage at university, but after the initial excitement of being away from home and free from the strict upbringing they had all endured, Billy had finally settled down and applied himself to his studies.

  Scully was regarding her steadily. ‘Was there any bad feeling between them?’

  ‘No. Not that I know of.’ Rose felt a wave of resentment building up in her breast. What right had this man to call her brother’s good character in question? She met his bold stare with a frown. ‘My brother is the most good-natured, easy-going person you could wish to meet, and he was that person’s friend. No matter what the provocation he wouldn’t have stooped to violence.’

  ‘But what about the victim? What do you know of his temperament?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing.’ Rose lowered her voice. ‘I didn’t like him, but then I hardly knew him.’

  Scully leaned back against the wooden settle and sipped his ale. ‘I need to ask these questions, you must understand that.’

  Rose made as if to stand but he motioned her to remain seated. ‘There is one other thing.’

  ‘What is it?’ She was growing impatient now. They were attracting unwanted attention and she was desperate to leave before someone recognised her.

/>   ‘Money, Miss Rose.’ He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, which he spread out on the table in front of her. ‘My services were engaged by the lawyer defending the case. He wanted you to be aware of the costs that you will incur, and he needs your permission to proceed on that basis.’

  Rose scanned the figures and her heart sank. She and Cora had saved every penny of their earnings at Fancello’s, but it would take months to raise such a large sum, if ever. She gulped and swallowed. ‘I understand perfectly.’

  ‘And you still wish to proceed?’

  ‘Of course I do. My brother’s life is at stake. If found guilty he will suffer the ultimate penalty, and I know he is innocent. I’d stake my own life on it.’

  A slow smile spread across Scully’s craggy features. ‘That’s all I need to know, miss. Rest assured that I will do my best.’

  ‘Perhaps you would discover more about the person in question if you visited his college in Oxford.’

  ‘That is next on my list, Miss Rose.’ Scully beckoned to Bobby, who was warming himself by the fire. ‘See the young lady home, boy.’

  Rose folded the sheet of paper and tucked it into her reticule. ‘I’ll keep this, if I may, and then I can refer to it if need be.’ She stood up. ‘I know you will do your best, Mr Scully, but I beg you to double your efforts. You will be saving an innocent man from the gallows.’

  Scully raised his tankard. ‘I’ll drink to that. Rest assured that everything that can be done will be done.’

  Rose made her way out of the taproom, half blinded by smoke and fumes as well as the hot tears that burned the backs of her eyes. Scully’s visit had made the threat to Billy’s life a reality instead of a vague possibility, and now more than ever she knew she must raise the money to pay for his defence. She did not feel like going home to face a barrage of questions from Cora, and she needed to find out exactly how much they had managed to save. Aunt Polly had been entrusted with keeping the money safe as it was not possible for the sisters to open a bank account, and hiding the money in the vicarage was not an option. Rose set off for the house in Old Street, having forgotten that Bobby had been charged with her safety, and it was not until she was on the doorstep that she realised he had followed her. She hesitated with her hand on the doorknocker. ‘Thank you, Bobby. You can go now.’