by Dilly Court
‘Why have you come here, Kitty?’ demanded Edward, when his wife was out of earshot. ‘Did Bella send you?’
‘No, Sir. It was all my idea.’
‘But she is all right, isn’t she?’
‘I hope so, Sir.’
‘What do you mean?’ Edward seized Kitty by the shoulders, staring intently into her face. ‘Don’t you know?’
‘Bella left for France this morning, Captain Edward. She’s gone to find Mr Rackham.’
‘Oh my God, no!’ Edward paled alarmingly beneath his suntan. ‘I can’t believe that she’s turned to that libertine.’
‘Begging your pardon, Sir,’ Kitty said, stung by his attitude. ‘But what did you expect? She was really cast down when she heard you’d gone and got yourself married.’
‘I thought she would go to Mableton Manor with Leonie.’ Edward brushed his hand across his eyes and his voice shook with emotion. ‘I wrote to my father entreating him show a little compassion for a mother’s heart and to allow Bella to have custody of Leonie. I wanted to look after Bella and her child in the only way I knew how and I begged him not to deprive Leonie of her rightful inheritance.’
Warner reappeared at the top of the steps, coughing discreetly. ‘Excuse me, Sir Edward. My lady sends her compliments and wonders when you will be joining her in the drawing room.’
‘Tell my wife I’ll be there directly.’ Edward’s voice crackled with irritation and he waved Warner away. ‘Kitty,’ he said urgently, ‘if Bella returns to England, if she needs help in any way, I want you to come straight to me. Do you understand?’
Kitty met his anxious gaze steadily. Captain Edward might be rich and powerful but he was just a man, after all, and it was obvious that he still cared for Bella; all the more shame on him then for treating her so badly. ‘It’s a pity you weren’t here to stop Sir Desmond having us thrown out of the house in Tanner’s Passage. If we hadn’t lost our home things might have turned out different.’ Noting the stunned look in Edward’s eyes, Kitty was satisfied that she had at least given him something to think about. Turning on her heel, she was about to walk off when he caught her by the wrist.
‘I knew nothing of that. What house are you talking about?’
‘You ought to know it, Sir. You own it now, I believe.’
‘Kitty, for God’s sake stop. Tell me in simple plain words what the hell has been going on in my absence.’
Kitty arrived home with hope in her heart for the first time in months. Captain Edward had denied all knowledge of his father’s draconian action in having them thrown out on the street. He had been even more shocked when Kitty had told him about Bella’s unhappy relationship with Humphrey Chester but, best of all, he had dashed off a letter to Mr Feeney, instructing him to look urgently into the matter of the lease on Betty’s house. As she walked home, Kitty decided against telling Betty, or even Jem, that in her pocket she had the address of Captain Edward’s solicitor. It would be wrong to raise their hopes if it turned out that there was nothing to be done to remedy the situation.
Opening the door to the house in Sackville Street, Kitty felt a pang of sadness at the thought of having to leave her home. She would start all over again, of course, but it was going to be a wrench to leave this elegantly set-up house and go back to the mean streets of the East End with the smell of poverty hanging over them. Taking off her straw hat and shawl, she hung them neatly on the hallstand. This was just a temporary setback, nothing that couldn’t be overcome by willpower and sheer hard work.
Pausing at the top of the staircase, Kitty could hear the clatter of pots and pans and the sound of voices coming from the basement kitchen; she braced her shoulders and went down the stairs to face Jem and Betty.
Next morning, Jem left the house early to make his way over to Chelsea. After much discussion over supper the previous night, they had all come to the conclusion that Captain Madison’s offer was too good to refuse. Jem had been reluctant to go back to sea, even for one trip, but Betty and Kitty together had persuaded him that they could manage very well on their own for a few months. They had enough orders for gowns to keep them busy, and money to come in from rich ladies, who only paid up after persistent dunning. Maria had always undertaken this task and she was rather good at it, Betty said. If all else failed, they could always get Maria up from the country for a few days to collect the debts. The idea of sending gunboat Maria out after the debtors, armed not with rifles and grenades but her own fierce attitude, had made them all laugh and, it had seemed to Kitty, that a weight had lifted off them. She had gone to bed after an affectionate hug from Betty but when Jem had tried to kiss her, she had turned her cheek, avoiding the intimacy of his lips.
Next morning, having secured her best hat with a gilt hatpin and fastened the buttons on her jacket with the new and fashionable leg-of-mutton sleeves, Kitty told Betty that she was going to Liberty in Regent Street where they had advertised a clearance sale of cretonnes at an unbeatable price. Picking up her purse, Kitty was about to open the front door when someone pounded on the knocker as if they meant to beat the door down. Turning the key in the lock, Kitty opened it a fraction and was almost knocked down as Humphrey Chester barged past her, red in the face and breathing heavily.
‘Where is she?’
Kitty didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Bella has gone.’
‘Gone? She can’t have gone. She’s under contract to me.’
‘Mr Chester, please keep your voice down.’ Kitty glanced towards the basement staircase, hoping that Betty had not heard the commotion. ‘Bella has left the country.’
‘The bitch!’ Humphrey spat the words out like a bad taste. ‘The conniving, cheating little bitch! I’ll see she never works on the London stage again.’
‘She’s gone and she’s not coming back,’ Kitty said, going to the door and holding it open. ‘Please leave, Mr Chester.’
Pacing up and down, Humphrey struck out at the walls with his silver-topped cane. ‘She’s duped me, taken me for a complete fool. I want you out of this house, young lady. Pack your bags and get out.’
Trembling, Kitty drew herself up to her full height. ‘This house is in the hands of the letting agent, Sir. We have two more weeks of the lease to run. You can’t turn us out.’
Humphrey scowled at her and, for a moment, Kitty thought he was going to hit her, but he vented his spleen by kicking the door.
‘That may be so, but everything in this house belongs to me. It was bought with my money.’
‘And we’ve been repaying you month by month.’
‘Bella still owes me,’ Humphrey said, through clenched teeth. He pushed his face close to Kitty’s. ‘I’ll be sending a carter to collect every stick of furniture in this house. I want everything that that little bitch bought with my money, from the chandeliers to the carpets. D’you hear me?’
‘The whole street can hear you shouting, Mr Chester.’ Betty hobbled towards them, puffing and panting with the exertion of taking the stairs too quickly on rheumaticky knees. ‘What’s going on, Kitty?’
‘It’s all right,’ Kitty said hastily. ‘Mr Chester is just leaving.’
‘Yes, I’m going,’ snarled Humphrey. ‘But you can expect a visit from the bailiffs.’
Pushing past Kitty, Betty shook her fist in Humphrey’s face. ‘Don’t you speak to Kitty like that, or I’ll fetch my son and he’ll sort you out.’
Humphrey’s mouth twisted in rage. ‘And you, Madam, you tell that oaf to keep out of my way. I haven’t forgotten our last meeting and if he tries to stop me reclaiming my property, I’ll have the law on him.’ Storming off down the steps, Humphrey climbed into his motor car, shouting instructions to the chauffeur.
Betty clutched at Kitty’s arm. ‘He can’t do this to us, can he?’
‘I don’t know. But he’s rich and we’re poor. I expect the law is on his side all right.’
Betty began to cry. ‘What shall we do? What’ll happen to us now, Kitty?’
‘Don’t
worry, Betty dear.’ Kitty wrapped her arms around Betty in a comforting hug. ‘We’ll talk about it when I come back.’
Sniffing, Betty wiped her eyes on her apron. ‘Surely you’re not going to the sale now? I don’t see how spending money on material is going to help get us out of this mess.’
‘I’m not going to the sale. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.’
‘Where are you going? Don’t leave me all alone in the house. What do I do if the bailiffs come while you’re out?’
Pausing on the threshold, Kitty forced a confident smile. ‘They won’t, and I’ll not be long. Don’t answer the door to anyone while I’m out, not even if Lord Kitchener himself comes knocking.’
‘Mr Feeney will see you now, Miss.’
Kitty jumped up from the hard wooden chair in the outer office, hurrying past the clerk as he held the door for her. Mr Feeney sat behind his cluttered desk, polishing the lenses of his spectacles on a blue silk handkerchief. He peered at Kitty with pale, myopic eyes that only came into focus when he restored his specs to the bridge of his bulbous nose. ‘Miss Cox?’
‘That’s me, Sir,’ Kitty said, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. ‘Captain Edward, I mean Sir Edward said you’d sort this business out for me.’
Mr Feeney glanced down at the letter. ‘Ah yes! The property in Tanner’s Passage.’ Picking up a scroll of parchment, he untied the red tape and laid the document out in front of him, smoothing it flat with his hand that was white and smooth as a lady’s.
He’s never done a stroke of hard work in his life, Kitty thought inconsequentially as she moved from one foot to the other, clasping and unclasping her hands, waiting while he read slowly, his lips silently forming the words. After what felt like hours instead of merely minutes, he looked up.
‘And you represent the said Mrs Elizabeth Scully?’
‘I do, Sir.’
‘You realise, young lady, that Feeney, Feeney and Rumbelow merely act as ciphers for their clients?’
‘I might, Sir. If I understood what you meant.’
‘It means that we, the firm, undertake to carry out our client’s instructions, within the law, of course.’
Kitty shrugged her shoulders. Perhaps he would come to the point sooner rather than later.
‘Carrying out the instructions from the late Sir Desmond Mableton, Baronet, we, the firm, withdrew the lease on number seven Tanner’s Passage.’
‘Withdrew? Do you mean that the lease had not run out?’
Keeping his head bent over the document, Mr Feeney rolled it up, concentrating all his attention on retying the tape. ‘I see from the deeds that the lease was, in actual fact, for ninety-nine years. It seems there was a slight misunderstanding …’
‘Misunderstanding!’ Kitty leaned across the desk, snatching the scroll from his hand. ‘Sir Desmond had us thrown out on the street for nothing other than sheer badness. How could you stand by and let that happen?’
Mr Feeney’s neck seemed to disappear into his high starched collar as he blinked up at Kitty. ‘I can assure you that nothing improper has taken place, Miss Cox. Sir Desmond owned the land and –’
Kitty waved the parchment at him. ‘But the lease had over seventy years to run. The house belongs to Mrs Scully right and proper, as it has all the time. I’d be ashamed of myself if I was you, Sir.’
Mr Feeney jumped to his feet, making as if to snatch back the document. ‘Don’t take that tone with me, Miss.’
‘I’m keeping this to show Mrs Scully and Sir Edward.’ Kitty tucked the scroll beneath her arm. ‘Hand over the keys, Mr Feeney.’
Number seven Tanner’s Passage felt cold and damp. The air was stale and musty and a thick film of dust covered the surfaces with a grey bloom. Absently, Kitty wrote her name in the dust on the kitchen table, while Betty darted around the room, opening cupboards and exclaiming in delight on finding everything precisely as she had left it. Jem turned on the cold water tap and grimaced as a stream of brown, rusty water spluttered into the clay sink.
‘This water’s got legs,’ he said, grinning.
‘Let it run,’ cried Betty. ‘Let it run a bit. I’ll soon have everything shipshape and Bristol fashion and just as it used to be.’ She opened the larder door, snorting with disgust. ‘Mice! I can smell mice. We’ll have to get a trap, Jem. Or, better still, we’ll get ourselves a cat. I’ve always wanted a little cat, but I couldn’t have one with our Polly so weak and fragile and needing so much attention, bless her little heart.’ Betty’s lips quivered and unshed tears sparkled on her pale lashes.
‘Bless her,’ Jem said, hooking his arm around Betty’s shoulders and giving her a sympathetic hug, but Kitty could see that his eyes had misted and reddened; his lips trembled but he forced them into a smile. ‘God rest her brave little soul.’
‘Amen to that,’ Betty said, patting his hand. ‘It’s good to be home at last.’
The afternoon sun slanted through the small windowpanes, frosted with dirt, and Kitty suppressed a sigh. Betty was so obviously overjoyed to be back in her old home and Jem would be leaving in a few days, going back to his ship for his last voyage.
Try as she might, Kitty simply couldn’t muster any enthusiasm for returning to the East End. She had attempted to keep her true feelings from Jem and Betty, but leaving Sackville Street had seemed like the end of a beautiful dream. She had had to stand by while the house was stripped of its elegant furniture and fittings down to the last china ornament. Humphrey Chester had made sure that everything of any value, however small, was snatched under the eagle-eyed supervision of the bailiffs. She had managed to save one treadle sewing machine, two dressmaker’s dummies, cutting shears, material and spools of thread, by claiming them as tools of their trade, but that was all. Kitty knew that she could and would begin again, but the heady days of being a modiste in the West End were over – for the time being, anyway. Returning to Tanner’s Passage was coming home to Betty; to Kitty it was returning to the nightmare of her past. She could not even confide in Jem, for fear that he might refuse to do this last trip with Captain Madison. This was a purely personal battle and she knew she had to fight it alone.
Betty rolled up her sleeves with a businesslike air. ‘Right then! I’m going to get the fire going in the range and we’ll have our first cup of tea at home. Jem, you go and see if there’s any coke in the cellar, while I clean out the ashes.’
Jem picked up the hod and shovel and went off whistling.
Betty reached for her purse. ‘Here’s some money, Kitty. Why don’t you go to the corner shop and get us a poke of tea and some milk?’ Dropping some coins in Kitty’s outstretched hand, Betty gave her a shrewd look. ‘I know this ain’t what you wanted, ducks. Just give it time.’
In the days that followed, Kitty was kept so busy that she had little time to fret or feel sorry for herself. Betty’s abundant good spirits carried them all through the sheer hard work of restoring the damp, neglected house into a place where they could comfortably live. Jem helped when he could, shifting the heavy furniture and then putting it back in place after Betty had scrubbed the floors, bleaching the wood to the colour of bone. Curtains were taken down and boiled in the copper out of doors in the back yard, and the faded squares of carpet were hung on the washing line and given a beating that sent showers of grit and dust onto the cobblestones.
Every morning, Jem went off to join Captain Madison in the search for a suitable craft with which to start their business, but so far without success, although they had combed the boatyards and jetties from Chelsea Reach to Limehouse. When their searches brought them close to home, Jem brought Captain Madison to the house and he became a regular visitor. Having known him since the early days of her marriage to Herbert, Betty welcomed a chance to talk about old times. Sophia Weston sometimes accompanied Captain Jasper on these visits, having struck up an instant rapport with Betty; as widows of seafarers, they had much in common and spent many pleasant afternoons drinking tea and chatting. Des
pite a heavy heart, Kitty was glad to see Betty happy again in her old home and she tried her utmost to make the best of things.
On the last day before Jem and the Captain were due to return to the Mairangi, they were all sitting in the kitchen at Tanner’s Passage, with the exception of Sophia, who suffered from headaches brought on by the summer heat and had remained at home. Betty and Jasper Madison sat on opposite sides of the range, where the kettle bubbled and hissed out steam and the big brown teapot sat on a trivet, beneath its knitted cosy. Jem and Kitty sat at the kitchen table in companionable silence, drinking tea and eating slices of a cake that Sophia had sent from Chelsea, while they listened to the older couple reminiscing. Seeing Betty with someone near enough to her own age, a friend from years ago, Kitty realised for the first time how much Betty must miss her late husband. While talking over past times with Captain Madison, Kitty could see traces of her youth in Betty’s animated countenance before widowhood and poverty had etched their harsh lines on her face. It was good to hear Betty laugh at Captain Madison’s wry humour, and Kitty was beginning to understand why Jem was so devoted to this unassuming, and rather reserved, man who had never taken a wife of his own and who had spent virtually all of his adult life married to the sea.
‘So you had no luck again today then, Jasper?’ Betty reached for the teapot. ‘More tea?’
Jasper raised his hand, shaking his head. ‘Thank you, no. I really must be getting along. Sophia will have supper ready in spite of the fact that I told her to rest.’
Jem jumped to his feet. ‘But we’re not giving up on the boat, are we, Sir? Even though we sail tomorrow.’
‘No, indeed!’ Captain Madison rose stiffly, flexing one knee and then the other. ‘My joints aren’t what they used to be. I’ll be glad to swallow the anchor, and that’s the truth. I’ve left instructions with my agent, Jem, and if he finds anything suitable while we’re away, he can act for me. I’ve told him we want a craft big enough to navigate the river as far as Southend. That’s where the future lies. Taking Londoners for a day out that they’ll never forget.’
