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Authors: Dilly Court

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BOOK: The Cockney Angel
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The knowledge that Pa was to be locked up for six years hung over her like one of the potbellied snow clouds that she could see from her window. Ma and Emmie would find out in time, of course, but for now it was best that they remained ignorant of the truth. She had not a hope of raising enough money to pay a lawyer to appeal against the sentence, and the only person in authority who knew that Billy Angel was not a member of the Sykes gang was Inspector Edward Kent. Hell would freeze over before she would beg him for help.

* * *

The threatened snow began to fall in earnest that evening and it continued night and day for a fortnight. Irene found herself virtually a prisoner in her sister’s home. Ma and Emmie would not venture out for fear of slipping on the icy pavements or catching a chill in the bitter cold. Irene had to content herself with remaining indoors and occupying her time as best she could. She found a sudden interest in reading, and when she tired of listening to her mother and sister chattering endlessly about the baby she would retire to her room and curl up on the bed with a novel. Josiah had filled his study with books bought by the yard, but on the shelves Irene found volumes by Jane Austen, Mrs Gaskell and Charles Dickens, which she devoured avidly. These stories opened up a whole new world to her, far removed from selling pickles in Wood Lane or the seedy gaming establishments that Pa used to frequent. Reading made life just a little less dreary, and enabled her to put a brave face on dull mealtimes with Josiah presiding at the head of the table and Ephraim watching her, ready to draw attention to any lapse in her manners. Erasmus rarely ate with the family and even managed to time his breakfast so that everyone else had long finished and his father and brother had already left for the emporium.

‘How do you get away with it?’ Irene asked
one
morning when he bowled into the dining room just as she was about to leave.

He paused with a silver serving spoon hovering over the last of the devilled kidneys in the salver. ‘Get away with what, my dear Aunt-in-law?’

‘You know very well what I mean, Ras. You flout every rule in the house and you go to work late and finish early. I wonder that your pa doesn’t send you packing, or at least force a good day’s work out of you.’

Erasmus piled sausages onto the kidneys, followed by a golden mound of buttered eggs. ‘Blast, they’ve eaten all the bacon and the toast is stone cold.’ He reached for the bell pull and gave it a tug before taking his plate to the table, where he seated himself in his father’s place at the head. ‘I’m the master here for the moment,’ he said, chuckling. ‘Sit down and keep me company, Aunt-in-law.’

‘Stop calling me that. I’m not your aunt, and you haven’t answered my question. Why do you get special treatment in this house? The rest of us have to behave like little mice when your pa is around, and yet you seem to do as you please.’

‘I do, don’t I?’ Erasmus bit the end of a sausage and chewed it thoughtfully. ‘I’ve never bothered my head with such a question, but now I come to think of it, perhaps the old man
has
just given up with me. I have been a bit of a trial to him, I suppose.’ He shrugged his shoulders and attacked the kidneys with relish.

Hesitating for a moment, Irene tossed up between joining Ma and Emmie in the morning parlour and listening to a discussion about clothes for the expectant mother and the infant’s layette, or talking to Ras and discovering how he managed to do exactly as he liked. She took a seat at the table and sat with her chin resting on her cupped hands. ‘Go on then, tell me how you do it.’

Ras chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. ‘Well,’ he said, waving his knife in the air as if to emphasise the point, ‘I just do it. I don’t give a fig what the old man says and he knows it. No matter how many times he tanned my hide when I was a boy it didn’t make a scrap of difference, whereas he only had to glower at poor old Eph and he collapsed in a quivering heap like a pink blancmange. As to the emporium, well now, Papa knows that I can charm the bloomers off the ladies.’ He winked and grinned. ‘Sometimes quite literally.’

‘You’re disgusting,’ Irene said, stifling a chuckle.

‘But charming, you must admit.’ Ras polished off the remainder of his meal and pushed his plate away. ‘Now what can I do for you, sweet Irene? You look a little down
in
the mouth to me. Aren’t you enjoying your stay in Tippet’s Castle?’

‘I’m bored out of my mind, if you must know. If I hear the word baby mentioned once more, I think I’ll scream. I’m used to working, not lazing around like some kept woman.’

‘What you need,’ Ras said slowly, eyeing her with his head on one side and a thoughtful frown, ‘is to be taken out of yourself and I know the very thing.’

‘Oh, yes, and what is that? A trip to a penny gaff with you and a quick grope in the hansom cab on the way home when, I should add, I would have to slap you round the chops for your cheek.’

‘Nothing so vulgar. You’ve spent too much time dragging your pa out of cheap gaming houses and mixing with the wrong sort, old girl. No, I meant the Christmas Ball at the magnificent premises of the Drapers’ Company in Throgmorton Street. It is next week, as it happens, and I haven’t arranged to escort any particular young lady. I’m sure that Emmie would want you to go if only to keep her company.’

‘A ball?’ Irene shook her head. ‘Crikey! Me going to a ball with all them toffs. Anyway, it’s out of the question. I can’t dance and I haven’t got a ball gown. It’s not for me.’

‘Rubbish! I’ll teach you a few dance steps,
and
as to the rest you just smile and copy what everyone else is doing. Emmie will lend you a gown. I daresay she has a wardrobe bursting with frocks for every occasion, judging by the yards and yards of fine materials that have been sent home from the shop. Come on, Renie. Say you will and turn a dull event into a romp.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Irene said, rising from her seat. ‘And now I’d best put in an appearance in the morning parlour before Ma and Emmie send out a search party.’

Ras sprang to his feet and barred her way. ‘Say yes or I’ll keep you prisoner in the dining room until you do.’

‘Move aside, you fool.’

‘I mean it. Be my partner for the evening and save me from utter boredom.’

She found that she could not resist the wicked twinkle in his blackberry-bright eyes and the thought of getting out of the house, if only for one evening, was irresistible. ‘Oh, all right then. I suppose it might be interesting to see how the toffs amuse themselves.’

Emily was only too pleased to loan one of her splendid gowns for the coming event. She said she had been going to ask Irene to accompany her anyway, but what with the baby and everything it had quite gone out of her head. It would be her last chance to dance in public
before
her confinement in April, and she wanted to make the most of it. If she put her top hoop a little higher and wore the Brussels lace shawl that Josiah had given her for her birthday, her condition would scarcely be noticed. Irene bit back a sharp retort. Women had babies every day in Wood Street and Cheapside and they went about their business until they were about to give birth. Emmie might aspire to be like the pampered wives of the rising middle classes, but she was still an East End girl at heart. However, it would be mean to spoil her enjoyment and excitement over the preparations for the social event of the year in the drapery world.

The corsages were ordered and a private carriage had been hired for the evening. Josiah, it seemed, was sparing no expense. Irene guessed that this sudden burst of generosity had more to do with his desire to be made alderman than a change in his parsimonious nature, but she kept that thought to herself. She was looking forward to getting out of the house for an evening of music and dancing, but on the day of the ball disaster loomed in the shape of Emmie’s expanding waistline. When she tried on her new gown, it did not fit. There were screams and hysterics and an urgent need to have the garment taken to the
dressmaker
in order for the necessary alterations to be made. Irene offered to go, seizing the chance to get out of the house even if it was only for an hour, but Emmie was afraid of what Josiah would say if he found out that Irene had been allowed out unchaperoned.

‘This is awful,’ she cried, pacing the floor and wringing her hands. ‘I can’t send that stupid girl, Jessie. She would get the instructions all muddled up, and there’s no one else to go. They’ve all gone to the shop to supervise the Christmas rush, even Ras, so there’s no one I can send.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Emmie. Stop being so dramatic. I’ll go,’ Irene said crossly. ‘I’m sick of being shut up in this house anyway, and a walk will do me the world of good.’

‘I suppose you could go, just so long as Josiah doesn’t find out …’

‘Just tell me where the woman lives and how much you want let out and I’ll go now. I’ll be back well before Josiah returns for his midday meal.’

Emily turned to her mother who had been sitting in silence throughout. ‘What do you think, Ma?’

‘I think that Renie has been a good girl for staying cooped up in the house, and it’s high time she was allowed a bit of freedom. Let her go, Emmie, and stop fussing. You won’t
do
the baby no good by getting all of a dither.’

‘Yes, you’re right as usual, Ma. But I’ll only agree if you take a hansom cab there and back, Renie.’ Emily reached for her reticule and took out a silk purse, which she tossed to her sister. ‘There should be more than enough to pay for everything, but I want the change. Josiah doesn’t mind spending money on clothes and furniture and things that show his rise to wealth, but he doesn’t give me much pin money.’

Irene caught the purse deftly and put it in her pocket. ‘I’ll be there and back before you know it, so don’t worry about anything.’

Minutes later, dressed in a fur-lined mantle borrowed from Emily and a matching fur hat that was said to be a copy of the latest Paris fashion, Irene pulled on a pair of kid gloves and, with Emmie’s gown wrapped in butter muslin, she set off for the dressmaker’s rooms in Bread Street. It had stopped snowing but a freeze had set in and the pavements were as slippery as a skating rink. She looked for a cab but each one that sped past was taken, and she decided that it would be quicker to walk. After all, it was not too far to Bread Street and it seemed a crying shame to waste good money when she was fit and healthy and longing for some exercise.

She walked to the end of Love Lane and turned left into Wood Street, but she had to tread carefully, and every now and then she slipped and had to grab at some railings to prevent a fall, although she was more concerned about the ball gown than for her own safety. She knew that her smart outfit made her stand out from the crowd and that she was attracting the stares of passers-by, but she did not care. It was wonderful to be out walking again, and to get away from the stultifying atmosphere of Tippet’s Castle, as Ras ironically dubbed it. She made her way down Wood Street and crossed Cheapside, heading in the direction of Bread Street where she found the dressmaker’s basement room without any difficulty. After a brief discussion, and having extracted a promise from the woman that she would do the necessary alterations immediately and return the gown to the house by evening, Irene was free to return home at a slower pace. The hard frost on top of the fallen snow had chilled and purified the air, almost eliminating the city stench and carpeting the filthy streets in a fluffy white blanket. The plane tree on the corner of Wood Street had lost all its leaves and its stark branches were iced with snow like frosting on a cake. The rooks were strangely silent as they perched, huddled and sulky-looking, like exclamation
marks
on the branches. They glared at Irene with beady eyes, as if they were taking the inclement weather as a personal insult.

She walked past her old home, and saw to her dismay that the window was now empty of jars and bottles. It looked as though Yapp had got his way after all; not that it made much difference to her, but she couldn’t help wondering what had happened to their personal possessions. She would have paid a visit to the landlord, but as they owed him several weeks’ rent she knew he was within his rights to sell their belongings, although they would fetch hardly anything at auction. She walked on, determined not to pine for a few old clothes and odd sticks of furniture. At least Artie was safe from arrest, and although Pa was incarcerated in Newgate, he was free from the clutches of the Sykes gang at least for the present. Perhaps if she put his case well, Josiah might be persuaded to pay for a lawyer who would appeal against the harsh sentence, and maybe, just maybe, Pa might come out a wiser man and give up gambling.

She had almost reached Love Lane when she heard the sound of running footsteps and someone calling her name. She stopped, glancing over her shoulder just as Danny skidded to a halt at her side. ‘I thought it was you, miss. Although the fancy duds put me
off
a bit, and then I seen your face and I knew it could be no other.’

‘What is it, Danny? I’m in a hurry.’

‘It’s Miss Alice. I found her collapsed on the floor in their parlour when I went in to see to the fire. I think she took a tumble, but Ma’s out doing her washerwoman work and I don’t know where to find her. Please come, miss.’

He was so breathless that it was difficult to understand what he was saying and Irene was confused. ‘Have you tried to find her brother?’

Danny nodded emphatically. ‘He’s in court and they wouldn’t let me in to see him. I left a message, but she needs someone to help her now.’

Irene could see that he was desperately worried and although the Kent’s house was the last place on earth she wanted to visit, she could not bear to think of Alice all alone and possibly badly hurt. She may have the misfortune to be a copper’s sister, but that was not her fault. Despite her reluctance to become involved, Irene knew that she could not simply walk away. ‘All right, I’ll come with you. At least I can stay with her while you fetch the doctor.’

Danny’s face split into a grin of sheer relief. ‘I knowed you wouldn’t let me down, miss. Hold on to me and we’ll get there in two ticks.’

BOOK: The Cockney Angel
6.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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