by Dilly Court
He hefted the valise onto his bent shoulders, shooting a malicious glance at Nick. ‘I can manage on me own, ta very much.’ He hobbled behind the counter and opened a door leading to a flight of stairs. The red Turkey carpet glowed like a hot coal in the dim light, and Sawkins negotiated the stairs with surprising speed.
‘He’s been here for years,’ Daisy said by way of an excuse for his rudeness.
‘Yes, I believe Toby has mentioned him in the past. Anyway, I must be going.’
Nick let himself out into the street and Daisy raised her hand in farewell, but he had already disappeared into the swirling snow. She closed the door and was enveloped by the all-too-familiar smell of leather and dubbin, which she only noticed when she had been absent for a while. She was about to go upstairs when Sawkins appeared behind the counter, glaring at her beneath his shaggy eyebrows.
‘I told the mistress you was here,’ he said with a sly grin. ‘She weren’t expecting you. Got the sack, did you?’
‘It’s none of your business, Jonah.’ Daisy had not meant to snap at him but her nerves were frayed, and she was afraid that she might break down and cry if her aunt questioned her too deeply. She slipped past him and made her way upstairs where she was greeted by Hattie, the Marshalls’ cook-housekeeper, who had been with them for ever. Daisy could not remember a time when Hattie had not been there to tell her wonderful stories about mermaids and unicorns, or to bandage a cut knee.
‘Welcome home, Miss Daisy,’ Hattie said, wrapping her in a comforting hug. ‘We wasn’t expecting you, so this is a real treat.’
Daisy returned the embrace. ‘It’s good to be home.’
‘I’ll go and put the kettle on.’ Hattie gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘Your aunt is in the parlour. She’ll be so pleased to see you, my duck.’ She waddled off along the landing, leaving Daisy to make her way to the parlour.
Eleanora Marshall was standing by the fire. In early middle-age she was a fine-looking woman with a good figure, glossy brown hair and an air of authority. She turned with a start at the sound of the door opening. ‘Daisy, my darling. Sawkins told me you were here. What a lovely surprise.’
‘I know you weren’t expecting me, Aunt.’
‘Why are you here? I thought you would be spending Christmas with your fiancé and his family.’
Daisy clenched her gloved hands in an attempt to stem the tears that suddenly threatened to overcome her. ‘Julian doesn’t want to marry me,’ she said softly.
‘You mean he’s jilted you?’
‘He’s been offered a position in the French Embassy. It was too good to turn down, and our engagement was never official.’
‘I don’t see what that has got to do with anything,’ Eleanora paced the floor, her high-heeled boots tip-tapping on the polished boards. ‘There’s more in this than meets the eye. Has his mother interfered? Has he met someone with more money and better connections?’
‘I don’t know, Aunt. He wrote a letter—’
‘You mean that the coward didn’t even have the decency to tell you face to face that he’s reneged on his promise?’
‘He was in Oxford when he sent the letter, and I’ve lost my job because Master Timothy is being sent to boarding school in the New Year.’
‘A likely story. I think that woman has got wind of the romance and it’s her way of putting a stop to it. I know what it’s like, Daisy. I saw the way your parents suffered at the hands of your mother’s family, and they wanted nothing to do with you or your brother. We’d better not mention this to your uncle,’ Eleanora concluded. ‘He wouldn’t take kindly to someone toying with your affections.’
‘You haven’t told him of my engagement?’
‘No, my dear, I wanted to be certain before I gave him the news. I know how delicate these matters can be.’
‘Julian might change his mind,’ Daisy said hopefully. ‘I’m sure his mother knew something, and maybe she persuaded him that he was making a mistake.’
‘To be swayed so easily is not a good sign. He sounds like a weakling. You’d be better off with a decent local man than a milksop who’s afraid to stand up to his mother.’
Daisy gazed at the daguerreotype on the mantelshelf portraying her parents on their wedding day, which was the image that she had clung to during her childhood. She could see how pretty and appealing dark-haired, dark-eyed Marguerite must have been to young James Marshall, and Aunt Eleanora swore that Daisy was the image of her late mother. Daisy never quite believed her aunt, but she loved to hear the story of how her parents had met. In fact she had heard it so many times that she could recite it word for word. It was a true romance of a young woman whose family considered themselves to be upper middle class and a man whose family were in trade. James had come to their house in Finsbury Square to deliver a new saddle, and it had been pure chance that had led him to the front door instead of the tradesmen’s entrance at exactly the moment when Marguerite Gifford had just returned from a shopping expedition. It was, as Eleanora was fond of telling her niece, love at first sight. After that the young couple had met secretly, and in the face of much opposition from both families they had eloped to Gretna Green. Daisy studied the smiling faces of her parents in their bridal finery. Perhaps she would never know the love and happiness they had shared, albeit so briefly, but she owed it to their memory to stand firm. She would not waste her tears on someone who was too weak to fight for the woman he loved.
‘You’re right, Aunt. But now I must look for another position. At least Mrs Carrington was fair enough to give me a good reference.’
‘A sap to her conscience,’ Eleanora said with a wry smile.
‘And I’m fortunate to have you and Uncle Sidney and a nice home,’ Daisy added hastily. ‘You’ve always been good to me, Aunt. Both Toby and I know how lucky we’ve been.’
Eleanora sank down on the nearest chair. ‘I have something to tell you, Daisy. Take a seat, please. Looking up at you is making my neck ache.’
‘What is it? You seem upset.’ Daisy perched on the edge of a chair. Surely there could be nothing worse than the news she had received earlier that day?
‘Your uncle has sold the business and we intend to retire and move to the country. There, I’ve said it. Don’t look at me like that, Daisy. We were going to break it more gently, but you’ve forestalled us by leaving the Carringtons.’
‘It wasn’t my choice, Aunt.’ Daisy hesitated for a moment as a confused jumble of emotions threatened to overcome her. The apartment above the shop had been her home ever since she could remember; she knew all the shopkeepers in the vicinity, and the names of all the residents of Meggs’ Almshouses, who benefited from Aunt Eleanora’s generosity at Christmas and Easter. She had enjoyed theatrical presentations at the New Royal Pavilion Theatre, including pantomimes, and she had taken omnibus rides to the West End, where exciting department stores were being opened. Daisy’s lips trembled – it was all too much to bear, and it was Christmas.
‘I know you’re upset, Daisy, and this doesn’t help, but I had to be honest with you.’
Daisy took a deep breath. She must not cry like a baby, even though her heart was breaking. ‘Where are you going to live?’
‘An elderly aunt has died and left me her cottage in Essex. It’s where I grew up and it has enough land to enable us to keep a pig and some chickens, and grow our own vegetables. The country air will be good for your uncle, and I don’t want him to work himself into an early grave.’
Daisy stared at her in astonishment. ‘But I thought you were happy here. Uncle Sidney isn’t an old man.’
‘He’s been in this business since he was a boy, and we’ve saved enough to keep us quite comfortably. The dirt and smoke in the city isn’t good for his health, nor mine, come to that. We’ll have a better life in the country.’
‘But what do I do if I can’t find another position?’
‘We’ll be here for another week or two, Daisy. I’m sure you’ll find something, or you can come and live
in the country with us. It’s not a huge cottage, but there is room enough for you, should you decide to accompany us.’
‘But what about Toby? I know he lives in at the hospital but he’s about to qualify. Where will he go then?’
Eleanora smiled. ‘You can ask him yourself. He’s just walked into the room.’
Daisy jumped to her feet, turning to face her brother. ‘Did you know of this, Toby?’
‘That’s a nice welcome. I haven’t seen you for weeks. Is that all you can say?’ Toby crossed the floor in long strides and enveloped her in a brotherly hug.
‘Did you know that Uncle Sidney is retiring to the country?’ Daisy demanded as he released her and went to kiss his aunt on the forehead.
Toby straightened up, facing her with a sympathetic smile. ‘Yes, I did, but why are you here? I thought you were spending Christmas with the Carringtons.’
Daisy sent a warning look in her aunt’s direction. Now was not the time to tell Toby about Julian. Her brother was fiercely protective and she knew he would be furious. She would tell him later, when she was feeling less fragile. ‘I’m no longer needed there,’ she said calmly. ‘Master Timothy is being sent to boarding school, but Mrs Carrington has given me a good reference.’
‘I’m sorry, Daisy. I know you liked the little fellow.’ Toby’s concerned expression gave way to a wide grin. ‘But I’ve got news that will cheer you up.’
‘You’ve passed your exams?’
‘Yes, I’m a qualified doctor.’
Daisy reached up to brush his cheek with a kiss. ‘Well done. I knew you could do it.’
‘Yes, well done indeed,’ Eleanora added, smiling. ‘Your uncle will be so proud.’
Toby slipped his arm around Daisy’s shoulders. ‘There’s something else, too.’
‘What is it?’ Daisy asked anxiously. ‘I don’t think I can take another shock. What are you trying to tell us, Toby?’
Chapter Two
Toby looked from one to the other, obviously savouring the moment. Daisy could see that he was enjoying himself, but her nerves were on edge, and she was not in a mood to cope with another piece of earth-shattering news.
‘All right. Don’t look daggers at me, Daisy.’ Toby paused for effect, but a stern glance from his aunt made him continue hastily. ‘I’ve always wanted to specialise in surgery, and I’ve been offered a position as a junior houseman at the London.’
Daisy flung her arms around his neck. ‘Congratulations, Toby. That’s wonderful.’
‘But what will you do now, Daisy?’ Toby’s smile faded. ‘Have you applied for another position?’
‘I’ve told Daisy about our move,’ Eleanora said firmly. ‘I hope she’ll decide to come with us.’
‘That sounds eminently sensible.’ Toby took Daisy by the hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. ‘The change of air would do you good, and who knows? You might get swept off your feet by a handsome landowner.’
Daisy snatched her hand free. ‘Why does everyone assume that marriage is the answer to everything? I want to prove that I’m worth something in my own right, if only to myself.’
‘Good heavens, Daisy! You’re not turning into one of those bluestocking women, are you?’
‘No, of course not, Toby. I just want to do something worthwhile.’
‘You’re upset, dear,’ Eleanora said softly. ‘Think it over, but you really don’t have much alternative now that you’re not living in Queen Square. We wouldn’t think of leaving you on your own in the city, and you have no income to support yourself.’
‘I spent years at Miss Lonsdale’s Academy learning Latin and Greek and solving complicated mathematical problems. Are you saying that it’s all been a waste of time?’
‘Calm down,’ Toby said, chuckling. ‘I don’t know why you’re getting yourself in such a stew. You were only a governess, after all.’
Daisy knew that Toby had not spoken out of spite, but his words seemed to echo Mrs Carrington’s opinion of the girl her son had wanted to wed, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.
‘You’re right,’ she said slowly. ‘I was just a governess, but I’ll prove one day that I can do more than that. In the meantime,’ she added, turning to her aunt and forcing a smile, ‘I will come with you, of course, and I’ll find out if living in the country suits me.’
Despite the fact that Toby was at home for Christmas it was going to be a subdued celebration. Eleanora’s mind was obviously on the forthcoming move to the country, and she spent most of her time sorting through her clothes or packing up small objects that had some sentimental value. Sidney disappeared to the pub at the first opportunity on Christmas Day and Toby went with him, leaving Daisy to wonder how things had come to this. Christmas was supposed to be a joyous occasion, but she had been jilted by the man she loved and had lost her job. It was not so much the money, it was the fact that she had grown fond of young Timothy, and he returned the affection. She had looked forward to being part of the Carrington family – now that was never going to happen. She was emotionally bruised, and although she tried to be positive, she could not summon up any enthusiasm for life in the wilds of Essex.
But it was Christmas Day, and Uncle Sidney and Toby were in a merry mood when they returned from the Earl of Effingham, having imbibed rather too much rum punch. Aunt Eleanora was not amused, but the table was set and, as was their custom, Hattie and Jonah sat down with them to enjoy the roast turkey with all the trimmings. Uncle Sidney did his best to be jolly, but Daisy was very conscious of the underlying current of anxiety felt by all at the move. Jonah was sullen and silent throughout the meal, and Daisy could feel his eyes upon her although he turned away hastily when she glanced at him. Toby was in fine fettle and did his best to raise their spirits, but it was a relief when the last of the Christmas pudding and brandy butter was eaten. Toby left, having a prior engagement to meet up with friends, while Eleanora and Sidney retired to the parlour, no doubt to snooze by the fire. Hattie went to the kitchen to begin the washing-up, and Daisy was clearing the table when Jonah closed the dining-room door.
‘What are you doing?’ she demanded. ‘I have to take these dishes to the kitchen.’
Jonah sidled up to her, grinning stupidly. ‘It’s a pity we got no mistletoe. I’d have an excuse to kiss you, miss.’
‘You’re drunk.’ Daisy stepped aside. ‘You’d best get on with whatever you’re supposed to be doing, Jonah.’
‘I’ve got money saved and Mr Marshall has persuaded the new owner to take me on. In less than a year I reckon I’ll be managing the business, and we could live here above the shop. I’d make you a good husband, Daisy.’ He moved closer and attempted to put his arm around her but she pushed him away.
‘It’s the wine talking, Jonah. I’ll excuse you because it’s Christmas, but you’re forgetting yourself.’
His smiled faded and his lips twisted into a grimace. ‘Not good enough for you, am I? What happened to the toff who was supposed to marry you?’
‘You’ve been listening at keyholes,’ Daisy said angrily. ‘It’s none of your business. I’m sorry if it hurts your feelings, but I don’t want to marry you and never will.’ She dodged round the table and opened the door. ‘Come one step closer and I’ll scream. My uncle wouldn’t take kindly to this sort of behaviour.’
‘You’ll be sorry. One day you’ll regret turning me down, Miss Marshall. I might have a twisted body, but I’m nobody’s fool. You’ll seek me out one day, begging for my help and see what you get then.’ He brushed past her and limped off, cursing beneath his breath.
Daisy sat down at the table and reached for her wine glass. It was still half full and she downed it in one gulp. At least Jonah had helped her to decide what course she would take. The wilds of Essex seemed much more attractive now.
Jonah did not bother her again, although she was very conscious of his presence every time she went through the shop, but she did her best to ignore him. The next two weeks were spent sorting out what they would ta
ke to the new house, filling even more packing cases and trunks. Each day Daisy hoped she might get word from Julian, and every time she heard a male voice in the shop below, she strained her ears, willing it to be the man who had professed to love her. But Julian Carrington had not had the decency to write and apologise for her sudden dismissal, or even to enquire if she had found another position. For all he knew she might be selling bootlaces on street corners or working in the nearby blacking factory. Daisy had to face the fact that he had gone to Paris to take up his new position, leaving her to break her heart and suffer the humiliation of being jilted.
On a bitterly cold day in the middle of January, Daisy and her uncle and aunt left their home in Whitechapel. Toby had not officially started his new position at the hospital, and as he had time on his hands he had decided to accompany them. Daisy suspected that his decision was motivated more by curiosity than anything else, but Toby had said vaguely that he had a friend who lived somewhere in that part of Essex and he might pay him a visit. Her gregarious brother seemed to have friends everywhere and Daisy had not questioned him further. It was good to have the family together again, no matter what the reason.
It was snowing again, but Jonah insisted on seeing them off. ‘You’ll return soon enough,’ he whispered as Daisy edged past him. ‘And I’ll be waiting.’
She did not look back as Toby handed her into the waiting hackney carriage, but even as they drove off she was aware that Jonah Sawkins was standing in the shop doorway, watching until they were out of sight.
‘Cheer up, Daisy,’ Toby said, grinning. ‘You might even enjoy living in Little Creek. Let’s hope it isn’t as dull as it sounds.’
As the train pulled out of Bishopsgate Station, Daisy’s last hope of seeing Julian evaporated like the great puffs of smoke and steam belching from the massive engine. Although she knew it was unlikely, she had thought he might have written to her. She had been tempted to return the ring, but she would not give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his cowardly behaviour. It was tucked away in her jewellery box, along with a few cheap trinkets and the rope of pearls that her mother had worn on her wedding day. Daisy sighed and settled down to gaze out of the window.
