by Dilly Court
Bella leaned towards Betty, lowering her voice so that the driver could not hear. ‘I won’t repeat anything you’ve told me, but I seriously think you ought to tell the police.’
‘It would be her word against his, Bella. I know his sort – he’ll say she led him on and the law officers are all men; they’ll want to believe him.’
‘A crime like that must not go unpunished.’
‘Don’t worry, once the word gets round I don’t fancy Sid’s chances.’
‘Keep her safe, Betty.’
Betty bobbed a curtsey but her answer was lost as the horse sprang forward and the cab pulled away.
Bella leaned back against the worn leather squabs. She was tempted to break her word and inform on Sid, but she had been bred in the East End and she knew that the tight-knit community would close in on itself where one of their own was concerned. There would be justice in the end but it would be meted out by his peers, in whatever way they thought fit, without the involvement of the police. Kitty would be well cared for and safe with Betty Scully. Now there were more urgent matters to contend with. Bella tapped the top of the hood with her parasol.
‘Knightsbridge Barracks, please, cabbie.’
It was a vain hope, and Bella knew it, but she had spent half the night working out what to say when she arrived at the barrack gates. With her veil covering her face she stepped out of the cab, ordering the cabby to wait for her. She approached the guardhouse with her head held high even though her heart was pounding a tattoo and her palms were clammy. She knew how it must look and the sceptical expression on the face of the sergeant confirmed her worst fears. He listened politely enough, but it was clear that he had her labelled as a lovesick young woman and, as she gave her maiden name instead of her title, she was barely surprised when he politely but firmly sent her on her way.
Feeling a hot blush flood to her cheeks, Bella was thankful that her veil hid most of her face as she went back to the cab, instructing the driver to return to Dover Street.
The musty smell of the squabs was making her feel sick, and tears of frustration ran unchecked down her cheeks. She was gazing out of the window, barely noticing the cool green expanse of Hyde Park as the cab rattled along the South Carriage Drive, when she saw an army officer on foot, walking with a slight limp. Calling to the cabby to stop, Bella leaned out of the window, calling Edward’s name regardless of the curious stares of passers-by. Barely waiting for the cab to draw to a halt, she flung the door open and, catching the heel of her shoe in the lace of her petticoat she would have fallen to the ground if Edward had not rushed forward to catch her.
‘Edward, my darling,’ Bella cried, flinging her arms around his neck. ‘I’ve been searching for you. How could you leave without telling me?’ She lifted her face with her lips parted, longing for his kiss, but he caught her hands in his and drew them gently down to her sides, looking nervously over his shoulder, a dull flush rising from his neck to his thin cheeks.
‘Bella, not here, in public.’
Snatching her hands free, Bella stared at him, desperately trying to read the expression in his eyes. ‘Aren’t you pleased to see me?’
With an abrupt command to the cabby to follow them, Edward tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and began to walk slowly towards Hyde Park Corner. ‘Of course I’m pleased to see you, my love, but I’m in uniform.’
There was a coolness in his tone that sent an icy shiver down her spine. Bella stopped in the middle of the pavement. ‘You’re ashamed to be seen with me?’
Edward ran his finger around the inside of his uniform collar, glancing about, as if expecting to see his commanding officer hiding behind the nearest tree. ‘We can’t be seen together now. You’re my stepmother, for God’s sake, Bella. Don’t you understand that is why I had to leave without seeing you? Do you think it was easy for me? It nearly tore my heart out, but I knew that I was doing the right thing.’
‘So you ran away and left me without so much as a goodbye. That was cowardly, Edward.’
Edward shook his head, a dull flush suffusing his handsome face. ‘I was terribly wrong. I should never have let my feelings get out of control. Please forgive me, Bella.’
‘How can you stand there and ask me to forgive you when you’ve broken my heart?’ Bella cried, grasping him by the hand. ‘I love you and I’d give up everything to be with you.’
Refusing to meet her eyes, Edward turned his head away. ‘Don’t make this more difficult than it is.’
‘Look at me, Edward; don’t look away. Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll go home and never speak of it again. But just say one word and I’ll follow you to whatever place the British Army is fighting. Whether it’s the Dervishes or the Boers, I’ll be there by your side, no matter what happens.’
‘You are such a child, Bella,’ Edward said, raising his eyes at last, with a reluctant smile. ‘It wouldn’t work that way. I’d have to resign my commission and we would have to quit the country and live abroad. The scandal would ruin us all and destroy the family. I can’t do that to them or to you.’ He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘This has to be goodbye. You must understand that.’
‘You are weak and you are cruel,’ sobbed Bella, beyond caring whether anyone saw or heard. ‘Go back to your hateful war and play at being a hero.’
Edward’s expression hardened. ‘Goodbye, Bella.’ With a small bow, he turned on his heel and walked away.
‘Oh, Edward, I didn’t mean it. Don’t go. Please don’t go.’
Without turning his head, Edward quickened his pace and walked on.
The cabbie drew his horse to a halt and leapt off his seat, his wizened face crinkled with concern as he peered into Bella’s ravaged face. ‘Don’t take on so, Ma’am. Shall I take you home?’
Chapter Seven
‘Wake up, sleepy head! The doctor says you can get up today.’
Kitty opened her eyes and blinked as the sun filtered through the sooty panes of the attic window. ‘I don’t think I can.’
Betty stood with her arms akimbo, shaking her head. ‘Stuff and nonsense! If the doctor says you are well enough to be up and about, then up and about you shall be, and I won’t take no for an answer. So drink your tea, put on your wrap and I expect to see you in the sitting room in five minutes.’
‘I really don’t feel well.’
‘Poll’s been asking for you and you don’t want to disappoint her, do you? Five minutes,’ Betty said, wagging her finger to emphasise the point. She left the room, closing the door firmly behind her.
Raising herself on her elbow, Kitty sipped the hot, sweet tea. Betty was right, of course, she must make an effort to get back to normality or Sid would have won. He would have broken her spirit, just as he had done to poor Maggie. Slowly and stiffly, Kitty raised herself from the bed. Her clothes had been washed, neatly mended and laid out on a chair by the bed. Kitty let her nightgown fall to the floor and slipped her shift over her head. She felt dizzy even with such a simple effort. After a moment’s rest, she tried to lace her corsets, but the pain from her bruised ribs was too great, and she had to give up the attempt.
It was then that she remembered Jem’s half-sovereign and she began to rummage through her things. It wasn’t there. She slumped down on the bed, her throat constricting with tears. After everything he had done to her, Sid must have taken the one possession that mattered the most to her in the entire world. Anger, hatred and disgust made her retch and she leaned over the china washbowl, dashing her face with cold water until the nauseous feeling passed.
After a bit of a struggle with laces and buttons, she managed to dress herself and, with a superhuman effort, she made her way down the narrow, twisting staircase to the living room.
Polly looked up with a chortle of delight and flapped her hands excitedly.
Kitty went to sit beside her and stroked her hair. ‘There, there, Poll. I’m all better now, as you see.’
Polly managed a nod and a crooked grin.
‘Well, then,’ Betty said, bustling into the room carrying a tray of food, ‘that’s what I wanted to see, Kitty. You’re well on the way to mending now.’
‘I’m sorry to have been such a burden on you,’ Kitty said, taking a bowl of bread and milk and beginning to spoon it into Polly’s mouth. ‘I should go back to work very soon.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ Betty said. ‘But there’s a young lad downstairs who says he has a message for you from Dover Street.’
‘Is it George? Perhaps Lady Mableton has sent for me.’
‘If George has got ginger hair and freckles, then that’s who it is,’ Betty said, smiling. ‘Do you feel up to seeing him?’
‘I feel as though I want to crawl into a hole and die, but if I give in to my feelings then that brute has won. I won’t let him ruin my life.’
‘Then I’ll send the young man up?’
‘Yes, I’ll see him.’
A minute or two later Kitty heard footsteps bounding up the stairs and George burst into the room and then stopped, dragging his cap off his head and going rather pink in the face. ‘She said you was well enough for a visitor.’
‘I’m much better now.’
‘You look a sight better now than you did a couple of weeks ago.’ George stared nervously at Polly as she began to howl. ‘Is she all right?’
Kitty patted Polly’s hand. ‘Sit down, George. You’re scaring her. She’s not used to strangers.’
George perched on the edge of the window seat, sitting quietly with his hands on his knees while Kitty fed Polly the last of her bread and milk.
‘There,’ Kitty said, wiping Polly’s mouth with a bit of rag. ‘See now, Poll. George is all right. He’s just come for a visit. No need to be scared.’
‘I should say not,’ George said primly. ‘I’m a respectable bloke. I don’t frighten little girls.’
‘Why have you come? Has Lady Mableton sent for me?’
George leaned forward, keeping a wary eye on Polly, but obviously bursting with news. ‘There’s been a right to-do at Dover Street. Miss Iris sent for the master and he cut short his visit to Bath and come storming back. We could hear him shouting at her ladyship, even though the drawing room doors was tight shut. Next thing we knew she was packed off on her own to the country house, and who knows when she’s going to be allowed home?’
Kitty stared at him, shaking her head. None of this made any sense. ‘What for? What had she done?’
‘No one knows exactly, but it seems that Miss Iris thought her gentleman friend, that Mr Rackham, had a fancy for her ladyship.’
‘But that’s daft. She can’t stand the sight of him.’
‘Well, I can’t say as I blame the chap,’ George said judicially. ‘But the master ain’t taking no chances.’
‘What about Miss Lane and Miss Leonie?’ In between soothing Polly and taking in this alarming bit of news, Kitty could only stare at George. Surely he must have got it all wrong.
‘The master wouldn’t let them go with her. Said she wasn’t a fit mother.’
‘She is too,’ Kitty cried. ‘She’s an angel and little Leonie will be heartbroken.’
‘I dunno about that,’ George said, shrugging. ‘But Miss Iris is hopping mad because Mr Rackham don’t come to the house no more.’
‘Serve her right, but it can’t be because of him. The mistress hates Mr Rackham, I’ve heard her say so and –’ Kitty broke off mid-sentence. She had almost let it out that her ladyship and Mr Edward were sweet on each other, and had just stopped herself in time. ‘And she wouldn’t want him if he was the last man on earth.’
George tapped the side of his nose. ‘That’s when a woman really likes a fellow, or so Olive says. You can’t blame him for preferring the mistress – she’s a corker, there’s no denying that. Anyway, here’s the rest of it and you’ll never believe this, Kitty …’
Kitty closed her eyes. ‘But you’re going to tell me anyway.’
‘Mr Edward went off sudden like and Miss Iris accused the mistress of flirting with him. Not that anyone believes her. She’s a spiteful cat and no mistake.’
Kitty’s head was buzzing as if a whole hive of bees was flying around inside it and she rubbed her hand across her eyes. ‘Am I to come back and look after Miss Leonie then?’
George pulled a crumpled note from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Miss Lane sent this. That’s why I’m here and I’m supposed to hurry back or I’ll be in trouble.’
With one arm still tucked around Polly, who was rocking herself and sucking her thumb, Kitty smoothed the sheet of paper, staring at the spidery writing in Lady Mableton’s hand, but obviously written in a state of great distress.
Mableton House,
Dover Street
25 August 1899
Dear Kitty,
I have to go away for a while. Do not return to Dover Street unless Miss Lane sends for you. I will see to it that you receive your wages and, when I return from the country, I will send for you.
Bella Mableton
‘But where has she gone, George? Where is Sir Desmond’s country house?’
‘Dunno exactly, but I heard Mrs Dixon saying it was somewhere out in the wilds of Essex. A gloomy place on the edge of the salt marshes that should have been pulled down years ago, according to her.’ George leapt to his feet and his grin faded into a concerned expression. ‘You look fagged out, Kitty. I didn’t mean to upset you, not after what you’ve been through.’
Settling Polly back in the corner of the sofa, Kitty got shakily to her feet. ‘I’ll be fine, George. I’m just worried about the mistress. She was good to me.’
‘You get yourself fit and well and come back to Dover Street soon. It ain’t the same without you.’
George’s visit, together with the disturbing news that he had brought with him, acted like a catalyst in Kitty’s recovery. The more she thought about her poor, mistreated mistress sent away in disgrace, denied access to her beloved child, the angrier Kitty became. The thought of her ladyship abandoned in some gloomy house, in the middle of nowhere, made Kitty shudder. How would she cope without Maria to care for her? She must be so lonely and so sad. Kitty’s heart ached for her. Sir Desmond was a brute, almost as bad as Sid; Kitty felt sick at the thought of what he must have put her poor lady through.
Despite her worries about Lady Mableton, Kitty realised that there was nothing she could do, except sit tight and wait.
After many weeks of loving care from Betty, Kitty began to feel more like her old self and, with the appearance of her first monthly since the assault, Kitty cried with relief. Her knowledge of how babies were conceived had been gained mostly by what she had heard through the thin partition wall in Sugar Yard. Betty had warned her gently that a baby could have been the outcome of that savage attack in the alley. Now that she was released from that particular worry, Kitty felt freer than she had for a long time. Her hatred and loathing for Sid had crystallised into a hard nugget somewhere deep inside her soul but, as she grew stronger, Kitty vowed that she was not going to let him ruin her life. She would not hide away, afraid to go out alone and terrified of shadows; she would put it all behind her, but she would never forget, and she would never forgive him.
The weeks had turned into months and now it was winter. Venturing out on her own for the first time since the attack, Kitty insisted on walking to the shop in the next street to buy the hot, crusty bread straight from the baker’s oven. Having successfully made it that far, she ventured to the corner shop, where she bought sugar, tea and a brown paper bag full of broken biscuits, so that Poll had something to dunk in her tea. By the time she had filled the shopping basket, Kitty’s heart had stopped racing and the tight, breathless feeling in her chest was forgotten as she walked back towards Tanner’s Passage. The primrose-pale November sun struggled to penetrate the haze of smoke and ind
ustrial pollution that belched from the factory chimneys alongside the tea-coloured waters of the Thames. A chill east wind whipped up the river from the marshes, bringing with it the stench of the glue works and the sulphurous fumes from the match factory, and yet Kitty couldn’t help smiling to herself, as she breathed in the noxious cocktail of smells; she had conquered her fear and she was not afraid to walk the familiar, dirty streets of the East End, which, after all, was her home. She would, she thought, never be afraid of anything again.
‘So there you are, ducks,’ Betty said, as Kitty walked into the kitchen with her basket of groceries. ‘I thought you’d gone and got lost.’
‘No, I walked back past Sugar Yard and along the quay wall past the place where it happened.’
Betty’s face crinkled with concern. ‘You shouldn’t have done that, love.’
‘Well, it’s done and I’m glad I did it. I’m not going to let Sid Cable frighten me ever again.’
The sound of the doorbell jangling urgently, followed by someone hammering on the door knocker, made them both jump. Kitty hurried to answer it before the noise awakened Polly from her morning nap. ‘Maggie!’
‘Let me in, Kitty, quick!’ Glancing anxiously up and down the street, Maggie scuttled into the narrow entrance hall. She leaned against the wall, holding her hand to her chest as she fought to catch her breath.
Joy turned to fear as Kitty stared into Maggie’s ashen face. ‘What’s up? Has something happened to one of the nippers?’
Maggie shook her head. ‘Let me sit down for a bit and catch me breath.’
Kitty hooked her arm around Maggie’s thin shoulders and guided her to the kitchen.
Betty dropped the potato that she was peeling. ‘Gawd above, Maggie Cable! What brings you here?’
Maggie dropped down onto the nearest chair, her breath coming in ragged gasps. ‘I see’d you walking past Sugar Yard, Kitty, and it weren’t just me. Ned Harman saw you too and he’ll tell Sid. You shouldn’t have come back. It ain’t safe.’
‘That’s a fine way to talk to your own sister,’ Betty said, waving the paring knife at Maggie. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself and that vile creature you married. I don’t know how you got the brass nerve to come here.’
