The Dollmaker's Daughters

by Dilly Court

  For a wild moment, Rosetta thought that her mother was going to leap across the grave to grab Lottie by the throat, but Ruby and Joe had her by the arms and they were hanging on for dear life.

  ‘Calm down, Mum,’ Joe said, clamping his arm around her shoulders. ‘Aunt Lottie is upset. We’re all upset.’

  ‘Joe’s right,’ Ruby added, ‘this ain’t the time nor the place, Mum.’

  ‘Sock her one, Sal,’ shouted Granny Mole from her perch on the tombstone. ‘Don’t let the Eyetie tart get away with it.’

  ‘Who are you calling a tart, you old witch?’ Lottie screamed, shaking her fist at Granny Mole.

  Rosetta caught her by the arm. ‘Aunt Lottie, no, please. Think of Poppa.’

  Sarah broke free from Joe and Ruby and came wading through the grass round the foot of the grave to stand in front of Lottie, arms akimbo. ‘Don’t you call Ma names. But if it’s name calling you want, Carlotta, then I got a few choice ones for you.’

  ‘Ladies, please.’ Sly tugged ineffectually at Lottie’s coat sleeve.

  Joe and Ruby had come hurrying after Sarah but she shot her arms out sideways, holding them back with the agonised expression of a crucified martyr. ‘No, I’ll have me say here and now with Aldo as me witness. I never wanted none of this papist rubbish. All I wanted was a quiet little sermon to say goodbye to my dead hubby, but no! You had to stick your beak in and have all this vulgar show.’ Sarah waved her hand towards the glass-sided hearse and the four black horses pawing the ground as they waited.

  ‘You call me vulgar?’ Lottie strained against Sly’s grasp, her hands clawing as though she wanted to pull out Sarah’s hair strand by strand. ‘No Capretti ever been called vulgar. I’ll have you know I was the uncrowned queen of the music halls. I counted the Prince of Wales amongst my admirers – I had men falling at my feet.’

  ‘And you’d have been flat on your back ready for them.’

  ‘You take that back.’

  ‘I only speak the truth.’

  Breaking free from Sly, Lottie raised her arm as if to slap Sarah but the stranger, who up until this minute had stood silently observing the row, stepped in between them.

  ‘Ladies, if I may have a word.’

  ‘Who in hell’s name are you?’ demanded Sarah.

  ‘Ma,’ Joe said urgently, tugging at her sleeve. ‘That’s Mr Crowe.’

  ‘You keep out of this, Jonas Crowe.’ Lottie’s eyes flashed angrily but she lowered her voice. ‘Anyway, I wouldn’t soil me hands on that woman.’

  Rosetta moved closer, brushing Billy’s restraining hand from her arm. It was as if some strange power in Jonas Crowe drew her towards him like iron to a magnet.

  ‘A suggestion, ladies and gents,’ Jonas said, addressing everyone in general. ‘Since the location of the wake seems to be causing some bother, I suggest we all go back to my establishment in Raven Street. I’m sure you ladies would like a little drop of something to keep out the cold and the gents could probably do with something a bit stronger.’

  Rosetta held her breath, willing them all to accept the invitation. Ruby whispered something to Joe, but he shook his head, eyeing Jonas with a wary expression on his face. Even Billy was strangely silent, not like his usual cocky self at all, and Aunt Lottie had calmed down all of a sudden; it was obvious that she knew Jonas and, like Joe, was a bit in awe of him. Rosetta shot Jonas a sideways glance beneath her lashes; he was speaking to Mum and Lottie, but she knew instinctively that he was aware of her and a frisson of excitement pulsed through her veins.

  ‘I says we cut the cackle and go with the geezer in the flash suit,’ Granny Mole said, getting slowly to her feet. ‘I’m freezing cold and bloody starving.’

  ‘This is family business, Mr Crowe,’ Sarah said, her mouth setting in a stubborn line.

  ‘And I respect that, Mrs Capretti. But you might say that I’m a family friend and neighbour.’ Jonas angled his head towards Lottie. ‘Isn’t that right, Lottie?’

  Whether it was the cold that finally won the day or the fact that the fight had simply gone out of both Sarah and Lottie after their battle of words, somehow Jonas Crowe had his way. Brushing aside the argument that it was too far to walk to Raven Street, he sent Joe to summon a fleet of hackney carriages to transport the entire party. Despite a lot of pushing and shoving by the cousins from Wapping, which caused Sarah to wade in and sort them out with a few terse words, eventually everyone had a seat in a cab except Rosetta, Ruby and Billy.

  ‘We can walk,’ Ruby said, through chattering teeth, clutching Rosetta’s old shawl tightly around her shoulders.

  ‘I ain’t walking all that way,’ Rosetta said, loud enough for Jonas to hear. ‘I got a performance tonight. Got to keep on me toes, so to speak.’

  ‘No need to walk,’ Billy said. ‘I can give you both a lift on me cart.’

  ‘I wouldn’t hear of it.’ Jonas offered his arm to Rosetta. ‘You’ll ride in comfort in my motor car.’

  ‘That would be lovely.’ Rosetta slipped her hand through the crook of his arm, smiling up at him. If only the girls at the Falstaff could see her now.

  Jonas turned to Ruby. ‘You’ll come too, Miss Capretti?’

  ‘I expect Ruby would prefer the cart,’ Rosetta said, hoping that Ruby would get the message and go with Billy, who was standing with his fists clenched at his sides and his jaw sticking out as if he would like to punch Jonas on the nose.

  ‘I’ll take you, Ruby,’ Billy said, scowling.

  Ruby smiled apologetically. ‘Ta, Billy, but I’d best go with Rose.’

  ‘Suit yourself then.’ Billy strode off, hunching his shoulders and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

  *

  As if the ride in the motor car was not enough to make her head spin, Rosetta had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from gasping in awe at the grandeur of Jonas Crowe’s establishment. Although it was part of the same terrace, situated slap next door to Lottie’s rambling, ramshackle house, the exterior had been well maintained and the interior could not have been more of a contrast. A maidservant let them into the entrance hall that was richly decorated in crimson and gold with red Turkey carpet that stretched all the way up the polished mahogany staircase. Jonas switched on the electric lights, bringing gasps of amazement from everyone as they came in through the front door. Rosetta could see that Mum had begun to enjoy herself. It would please her to get one up on the cousins from Wapping, who could barely afford to buy candles let alone gaslight. Cousin Stan, who was a bit barmy anyway, was cowering behind Aunt Lil, squinting at the electric lights as if he expected the archangel Gabriel and a heavenly choir to burst out of the glowing bulbs.

  ‘I never seen nothing like it,’ Big Biddy whispered to Rosetta. ‘He must be even richer than old Bronski. Play your cards right and you’ll be in there, girl. You won’t have to stitch another seam.’

  ‘I won’t anyway. I’m on the stage now and I ain’t never coming back,’ Rosetta said, keeping her eye on Jonas. She didn’t like the way he had led Ruby in first, keeping her at his side. He must, she decided, simply have got them muddled up. She tried to edge away, but Big Biddy had her by the arm.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Biddy said, closing her fingers round Rosetta’s arm in a vice-like grip. ‘What are you talking about, Rose? We sees you every day, don’t we Winnie?’

  Little Winnie nodded.

  ‘Don’t talk soft,’ Rosetta said, wincing as she prised Biddy’s fingers apart. ‘I walked out before Christmas and I never come back.’

  ‘But we seen you,’ whispered little Winnie. ‘I helped you thread your machine when you was poorly and lost your voice.’

  ‘Lost me voice?’ The truth dawned as Rosetta glared across the hall at Ruby. She would have words to say to her later, but she wasn’t going to admit that she didn’t know that Ruby had taken her place. ‘That weren’t me. I had a better offer so I sent Ruby in me place.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ Biddy’s mouth worked as if sh
e was about to burst into tears. ‘I thought as how we was mates.’

  Winnie shook her head. ‘I knew there was something up.’

  ‘No harm done,’ Rosetta said, forcing a smile. ‘Ruby needed the money more than what I did.’

  ‘You don’t know then,’ Biddy said, frowning.

  ‘We was robbed,’ Winnie whispered, her lips trembling. ‘One of them street gangs raided Bronski’s and took all our wages. Beat up Mr Bronski something awful.’

  Concentrating more on keeping an eye on Jonas and Ruby than on what was being said, Rosetta patted Winnie’s shoulder. ‘That’s too bad. Maybe I can fix you up with complimentary tickets to see me on stage at the Falstaff.’ As she hurried off, Rosetta could feel them staring after her. Well, what was she supposed to say? It was too bad they had lost their money, but it served Ruby right for sticking her nose in what didn’t concern her.

  Jonas and Ruby had gone on ahead, with the rest of the party following them up the staircase and Rosetta had to push and shove to catch up with them. Elbowing one of the Wapping cousins in the ribs, Rosetta managed to get a few steps closer to Jonas.

  On the first landing, Jonas flung open double doors that led into a huge room, that smelt faintly of cigar smoke and brandy. Rosetta blinked as at the flick of a switch the room was flooded with light from crystal chandeliers. Wall lights hung with lustres sent prisms of colour dancing on the heavily patterned wallpaper. She had never imagined that such opulence could exist and, judging by the awed silence, neither had the rest of the party. The room was crowded with small tables, covered in green baize, set around with spindly gilt chairs, and at the far end, raised on a dais, stood a grand piano.

  Standing next to Lottie, Rosetta tugged at her sleeve. ‘What goes on here?’

  ‘It’s the gaming room,’ Lottie said, raising her eyebrows. ‘I won and lost a fortune in here.’

  ‘But ain’t that against the law?’

  Lottie chucked. ‘Of course it is, cara. That’s what makes it exciting.’

  ‘Make yourselves at home,’ Jonas said, with an expansive wave of his arms. ‘Normally I would have entertained you in the ladies’ parlour but it’s being refurbished as we speak. Refreshments will be brought shortly.’

  ‘This is a bit of all right,’ Sarah said, elbowing Lottie out of the way as she led Granny Mole to a table in the centre of the room.

  ‘Where’s the food and drink then?’ demanded Granny Mole in voice that echoed round the room. ‘A drop of gin would go down nicely.’

  The cousins from Wapping gathered around a table in the corner, hovering expectantly like vultures round a dying animal. Lottie sailed past them all with her nose in the air and Billy strolled in with Sly, who stopped to light up a Woodbine and then headed for Lottie, who had taken a seat at a table directly opposite Sarah. Big Biddy and Winnie sidled in last and sat by the door, clutching their purses and looking a bit overawed by the whole thing.

  Waiting her chance to get close to Jonas, Rosetta moved towards him, but two maids carrying trays laden with sandwiches and cake distracted his attention. Following them into the room came a young woman who was anything but a servant. With suspiciously blonde curls piled high on her head in the latest fashion, and wearing a low-cut black gown that revealed more voluptuous curves than was modest, she was quite breathtakingly beautiful, and instantly Rosetta hated her. Watching Jonas incline his head to speak to the woman and noting the smile that softened his harsh features only added to Rosetta’s yearning to rush over and scratch her eyes out. Startled and confused by the violence of her feelings, Rosetta dragged her gaze away from them and went to join Ruby and Joe, who stood apart from the rest, chatting to Billy. Before she had time to ask them what they were talking about, Jonas had led the woman in black to the grand piano. While she settled on the piano stool and opened her sheet music, Jonas clapped his hands and waited for silence.

  ‘Ladies and gents, can I have your attention, please? It wouldn’t be a wake without a bit of music and lovely Lily Lawson, the Shoreditch songbird, will be only too happy to entertain you while you enjoy a bit of light refreshment.’ Jonas held his hand out to Lily, who struck up a chord and began to sing.

  ‘Well, what a nerve!’ Rosetta said, bristling. ‘He might have asked us if we wanted the blooming Shoreditch sparrow to warble.’

  ‘Hush, Rose,’ Ruby said, blushing to the roots of her hair. ‘Keep your voice down or he’ll hear you.’

  Rosetta tossed her head. ‘I don’t care if he does. If anyone was going to sing at Poppa’s wake, it should have been me what was asked, not some brassy trollop what none of us knows.’

  ‘Sounds to me like you’re jealous,’ Joe said, winking. ‘But serious like, Rose, don’t you go getting no ideas about Jonas Crowe, he’s a dangerous bloke.’

  ‘Says who?’ demanded Rosetta.

  Joe shook his head. ‘Believe me, Rose, Jonas is nothing but trouble. He runs a street gang as well as an illegal gambling den. Don’t get no funny ideas about him.’

  Shrugging her shoulders, Rosetta couldn’t help stealing a glance at Jonas as he strode around the room giving orders to the maids and making sure that the drinks were flowing. He strutted with the cocksure manner of a rooster in a farmyard, unselfconscious and arrogant. Entranced, Rosetta could only stand and stare; she jumped when Ruby pinched her arm. ‘Ouch! What’s that for?’

  ‘To stop you making a fool of yourself,’ Ruby whispered. ‘He’s a bad man, Rose. Listen to what Joe says.’

  Billy nodded earnestly. ‘Aye, and I second that. Steer clear of Crowe.’

  ‘And you would know, I suppose?’ Rosetta turned on him angrily. ‘I suppose you and Joe couldn’t just be a bit green with envy seeing as how he’s so rich and successful and you two … well, Joe, you’re just a printer’s lackey, and Billy’s a jumped up rag and bone man.’ Rosetta broke off, biting her lip, knowing that she had gone too far this time.

  ‘Rag and bone man!’ Billy recoiled as if she had slapped his face.

  Ruby nudged her in the ribs. ‘Shut up, Rose.’

  ‘No need to be so touchy,’ Rosetta said, tossing her head. ‘I just meant that Jonas Crowe is …’

  ‘Shut up, Rose,’ Joe said, turning pale. ‘He’s coming over.’

  That night, Rosetta climbed into her narrow bed exhausted by performing on stage after the trauma of Poppa’s funeral and the explosion of emotions brought about by her meeting with Jonas Crowe. She had not been able to get him out of her mind and had made so many mistakes in the dance routines that, at one point, Aggie had kicked her on the shins, and Madame had given her a right old telling off in the wings. She had pleaded a headache, but Madame had said that having a bad head didn’t affect your feet and if she couldn’t do better then she would be out on the street. Even in the darkness of her own room, Rosetta could feel her cheeks burning with shame, remembering how she had burst into tears, claiming that her poor performance was due to Poppa’s funeral. Madame Smithsova had calmed down a bit then, but that didn’t stop her delivering the lecture about how the show must go on even if your heart was breaking. A true artiste, she had said, would work their emotions into a heartrending performance that would bring the audience to tears. Rosetta had gone back on stage, gloomily anticipating Father Brennan’s reaction at her next confession. How many Hail Marys would it take to absolve her from the multiplicity of sins that she had committed, from lying to lustful thoughts about a man she didn’t even know?

  However hard she tried, she simply could not fall asleep. Every time she closed her eyes she could see Jonas Crowe’s face, hear his deep, slightly gruff voice and feel the tingle that had run up and down her spine when he had accidentally brushed against her. He had come over to express his condolences, addressing most of his remarks to Ruby and Joe, but he had been standing next to Rosetta and she had been so acutely aware of his physical presence that she was certain he had meant every word for her ears alone. Ruby had answered him politely, but frosty as a January dawn, and J
oe had looked frankly terrified, as though he wanted to escape back to Fetter Lane as fast as his two feet would take him. Billy had acted like a sulky little boy, his usual cocky manner crumbling beneath the force of Crowe’s overpowering presence.

  Rosetta pulled the coverlet up to her chin, shivering as the temperature in the attic room plummeted now that the last glowing ember in the grate had burnt to ash. She was certain that Jonas had been about to give her his full attention, but Aunt Lottie had chosen that moment to stagger over to the piano with a glass of gin in her hand, announcing that she would come out of retirement to sing one of Aldo’s favourite songs. She had knocked back the rest of the gin while Lily searched for the appropriate sheet music. Then, tapping her foot in time to the intro, Lottie had flung back her head, opening her mouth so wide that her face seemed in danger of splitting in two. Then, holding out her arms, she had done a swallow-dive, falling face down on the floor. The cousins from Wapping had whistled and cat-called and Sarah had leapt to her feet shouting abuse that would never have passed her lips if she had not drunk several port and lemons. Granny Mole, fuelled by gin, had jumped to her feet, lifted her skirts and begun to jig up and down like a drunken marionette. Cousin Stan had joined in, shrieking at the top of his voice, and Sarah had slapped him round the face, causing Great-aunt Lil, who was Granny Mole’s younger sister who had married beneath her, to rush to his defence. Then the rest of the Wapping cousins had bundled on top of everyone with Big Biddy rolling up her sleeves and wading into the fray.

  Rosetta could feel her cheeks burning with shame at the memory. Jonas had, with a click of his fingers, conjured up two giant minions who had knocked the men down like skittles and hefted the scratching, kicking women out of harm’s way, one under each arm, dumping them outside the doors without a by your leave. The party had broken up after that. The humiliation and embarrassment were etched in her memory forever, but even stronger was the desire to see Jonas again. With sleep evading her, Rosetta struggled to think of a plausible excuse for calling at the house next door. Perhaps she should apologise for the rowdy behaviour of her family, but she abandoned that idea almost as soon as it formed. She would not demean herself by apologising for something that was not her fault. She could, of course, simply thank Mr Crowe for his hospitality, but that seemed a bit too obvious. What if the Shoreditch songbird should open the door? Did she live there and, if so, what was her relationship to Jonas Crowe? Rosetta felt her eyelids getting heavier and heavier as sleep began to overcome her. Tomorrow she would ask Aunt Lottie. After all, Lottie had vast experience in the world of men.