The Gilded Lily (19 page)

She was dimly aware of noises within and then, suddenly, Dennis’s voice.

‘She’s out here, help me get her inside.’

Ella’s head appeared. ‘You little fool,’ she hissed, ‘you could have fallen in! Come in quick, before someone sees you.’

‘I can’t,’ Sadie said, hearing her own voice waver.

‘You have to. They might see you, out there.’

‘I can’t move.’

‘I’ll have to help her,’ she heard Dennis say. ‘Bring the stool closer to the window so I can stand on it to reach her.’

Dennis’s hand was dry and warm. It closed over her cold knuckles and took firm grasp of her wrist.

‘Easy now,’ he said, as if he was talking to a frightened horse. ‘Just edge this way a little so I can take hold of you.’

She swallowed hard and felt with her feet for the slippery beams. Dennis’s arms closed round her waist and she almost fell back in through the window. He swung her down to the ground. He
smelt of leather and boot polish. She wriggled away from him in embarrassment.

‘Sit down,’ he said.

She did not need to be asked twice. She perched on the wooden stool; her legs felt like duck down. Ella hovered, holding the door open, expecting Dennis to leave.

‘Don’t just stand there,’ he said to Ella, ‘lay a fire. She’s frozen through.’

Ella stared at him, then at Sadie. Sadie dropped her eyes.

‘Are you going to light a fire then, or what?’ Dennis said, frowning at Ella.

‘We’ve no wood,’ Ella said.

He raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Then give her your cloak. I’ll fetch up a bit of kindling, and after I’ll be needing to know the truth from you. Or I’ll be calling
them back.’

‘It’s none of your business,’ Ella said.

‘In that case I’ll be claiming that reward.’ He clomped down the stairs in his heavy boots.

Ella chased after him. ‘Wait!’

‘Keep your hair on,’ he called, ‘I’m only going to fetch up some wood.’ His footfalls carried on down the stairs.

‘Now look.’ Ella burst back through the door and rounded on her.

‘What? I haven’t done anything.’

‘He knows now, doesn’t he?’ Ella paced around the room as if it had got too small for her. Sadie found her legs were shaking under her skirts. ‘Ssh, he’s
coming.’

Dennis carried in an armful of sticks and took a tinderbox from a pouch on his belt to begin making up a fire in the stone hearth.

‘Own up. Who’s going to tell me the truth? A murder and a robbery, they said.’

Sadie looked to Ella, who cast her eyes mutinously downwards.

‘It’s not true,’ Sadie said. She shuddered, an image of Thomas Ibbetson’s white face and fish-like eyes flashed into her mind.

‘Did you kill someone?’

‘Course not,’ Ella said.

‘So what did you steal?’ Dennis’s eyes were frankly curious.

Sadie made to untie and open her apron.

‘No –’ Ella took hold of her arm – ‘don’t show him. It’s our business.’

Sadie wrapped the apron closer to her body.

‘It’s all right. I’m not interested in your things. Not as long as you can pay the rent. But it’s going to be awkward now Ma thinks there’s only one girl living
here.’

‘Yes, that was a daft idea and no mistaking,’ Ella said.

‘I thought it would help, if they thought there was only one girl living here. Sorry. But I don’t think they’ll be back – they’re looking for two girls, not one.
And best you keep out of sight,’ he said to Sadie. ‘They’re after a girl . . .’ He looked fixedly at the wall. ‘A girl that looks like you,’ he finished.

Sadie felt the heat rise to her face. Dennis continued, ‘But I want to hear your side of it. I like to hear both sides of a story.’

Ella sat down, half turned away from Dennis and Sadie.

‘Come on, you can tell me. You don’t look much like killers,’ Dennis said.

‘Huh. You know nothing about us,’ said Ella over her shoulder.

‘They said you killed a gent.’

‘He died all by himself.’ She swivelled round. ‘He just keeled over one day with the dropsy. Didn’t need me to help.’ Ella’s voice had taken on a hard brittle
edge. ‘But I knew I’d be out flat – with no position and no reference. ’Tis always the same, the relatives toss you out with the old bedding. And I wasn’t going home,
not after being housekeeper in my own place. Besides, he owed me. A month’s wages anyways.’

‘I thought so. I trust my instincts. You looked that scared the day you first came, like the Devil and all the demons of hell were after you.’ He manoeuvred another stick onto the
fire, where it sprang into yellow flame. ‘And anyway, I might not mind it if you were. Killers, I mean. It’d be interesting to meet a murderer. I read them penny chapbooks, but I bet
yours is as good a tale.’

‘Have they got pictures?’ Sadie said.

‘Some of ’em. I’ll bring them up to show you. It’s kind of dull round here. The last lodger was never in. I have to spend a lot of time with Ma, ’cos she needs
looking after.’

‘What’s the matter with her?’ Sadie asked.

‘It’s her lungs, some days she can’t hardly breathe. She used to work at the wash-house, but she’s too weak to lift the laundry now, and her chest can’t cope with
all that steam.’

Ella stood up and turned to face them both. ‘Don’t you understand,’ she said, her voice rising, ‘they’re on our tail. I never thought he’d come after us this
far. It’s been months and the bugger’s still chasing us.’ Ella unfolded the notice the constable had given her and waved it at Dennis. ‘You say you can read chap-books.
Well, can you read this?’

Dennis took it, looking embarrassed. ‘Well, I can read a bit, but I’d need some help with this,’ he said, holding it to the candle. ‘There’s long words. Old Tindall
the astrologer’s been at the shop a fair bit lately, talking with Gaffer Whitgift. He’s the one for reading. I’ll ask him if he can help.’

‘No.’ She snatched it back from him. ‘What if it’s got my likeness written on it? I don’t want that anywhere near the Gilded Lily. Is there nobody else?’

‘Can’t think of anyone else with proper book learning. But I’ll see what I can do.’

‘We need to see what’s written, who they’re looking for,’ Ella said.

‘If them notices are up, I’ll make sure to hide my face when I go out now,’ Sadie said.

‘You’ll have to tiptoe past my ma,’ Dennis said, ‘now she thinks there’s only one of you. She’d have you out quick as a lick of butter. She can’t handle
trouble, see. The least thing wears her out. I can’t even answer back like I used to – it does for her, arguing. She never used to be like that, she—’

‘Dennis?’ A faint voice from below.

‘Talk of the Devil. There she goes. I’ll have to go. See you tomorrow.’

They listened to his boots thump downstairs.

Ella banged the door behind him so hard that the draught scattered loose ash from the fire over the floorboards. ‘We’re in a right old pickle now.’

‘He won’t tell,’ Sadie said.

‘I don’t want to be beholden to some clod of a boy. He could put the screws on us, start asking for money to keep quiet.’

‘He wouldn’t do that.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I just know. He helped us, didn’t he?’

‘Don’t be simple. Only because he wants a cut of whatever we’ve got. I can see straight through him. We’ve got to move on again, find a new place.’

‘No, Ella. Not again. We can’t keep on running. If we run, he’ll think the constable was right. And we’ve no money for new lodgings, not till we get paid. We have to
trust him, at least for a while. There’s no choice.’

Ella sat down heavily, resting her forehead on her hands. There was a long pause before she eventually said, ‘Do you think I want to risk my neck? Soon as one of us gets paid, we’re
off. But you’ll have to come and go in the dark now. If anyone sees you, with that notice out, we’re done for. You can’t go back to the wig shop either. You’re too easy to
spot, and you speak like a country girl.’

‘But, Ella, I have to go to work. We need the money. And if I don’t go back tomorrow, and don’t give notice, we’ll get in even more trouble. You know what Old Feverface
is like.’

‘No. She don’t know where we lodge, so you’ll stay home, it’ll be safer. If there’s a reward out for us, every last beggar will be looking for a girl with a
patch-face. You might as well have a bloody sign stuck to your forehead.’ She sighed and threw out her hands in frustration. ‘I shouldn’t have brought you.’

Sadie bit her lip. ‘Sorry, Ella.’ A moment’s pause, then, ‘How will we manage for things if I don’t go out?’

‘You’re not to go out, d’ye hear? It’s too risky. What if they follow you and you lead them here?’ She bent down close to Sadie’s face. ‘And if they
find us, we’ll burn.’

Sadie shoved her away with the flat of her palm. A slap came back instantly.

‘Ow. That hurt.’

Ella walked away towards the window and looked outside before turning to say, ‘It’ll only be for a little while. Just till the hue and cry dies away. Six months from now, everything
will be different, you’ll see.’

Sadie’s voice was small. ‘But, Ella, what will I do, if I can’t go out?’

‘I don’t know. Make yourself useful, I suppose, like always. Lay the fire, make clapbread. Mend.’

She tried to read Ella’s expression. She couldn’t mean it. ‘Maybe that notice don’t mention my face, maybe it don’t give an image of us at all?’

Ella gave her a pitying stare and turned away without answering.

The next day Ella was irritated to find that Dennis emerged from his downstairs rooms just as she was leaving. He stuck by her side all the way to Whitgift’s, plying her
with questions, where they’d come from, who their family was. She’d kept her lips tight-buttoned and let silence answer his questions. Eventually she turned to him and said,
‘Look, whatever you think you’re going to get out of me, you’ll not be getting a bean. So we might as well make that clear.’

‘I don’t want nothing. What gave you that idea?’

‘You know too much about us.’

‘I’d say I didn’t know enough.’

‘Oh ha ha.’

Ella maintained a frosty silence to keep distance between them. She didn’t want him tagging alongside her, heaven forbid. People might think she was betrothed to him. She marched past the
tripe shop, which always smelt unaccountably of sweat, dodged round the stalls with fruit and vegetables, strode past the haberdasher’s with its fluttering trails of ribbons and lace, but
gave none of them so much as a glance. She was acutely aware of the ring of Dennis’s iron-tipped boots just behind her.

She sneaked a look at him from the corner of her eye. His hair was pressed flat today with water under his hat, but it did nothing to improve his appearance. His nose stuck straight out from
between his eyebrows like a drayhorse. As for his clothes, there were badly matched cloth patches on the elbows of his coat, and even they were worn to a shine. She could not tell from his
appearance whether he was trustworthy. She’d have to be nice to him, though, or he might snitch on them. Her stomach churned. Titus Ibbetson must have sent the constable, so he was still
after them, just when she had thought they were safe. She glanced round, looking for Ibbetson’s dark hat in amongst the crowd. Each time she saw someone of his weight and build she felt her
heart batter against her ribs.

The notices were something she had not bargained on. They were certain to have a description on them or they would be useless else. She could dye her hair, they’d not recognize her from
the notices then, but what on earth could she do about Sadie?

Dennis was still keeping pace with her when they arrived at Whitgift’s sign. When they reached the gates, she frowned.

‘Can I trust you?’

‘I won’t let on where you are, if that’s what you mean.’

‘Will you take this to someone who can read? I don’t know nobody who can.’ She handed him the folded notice.

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Make sure it’s no one that knows us.’

‘What do you take me for?’

‘Thanks, Dennis.’ She made an effort to smile. He touched his hat a little too obviously and gave a mock bow, before moving off towards the offices. Pray God Sadie was right and she
could trust him.

She paused a moment to look up at the brand new sign hanging from its wrought-iron bracket. It was artfully and brightly painted with a gilt-edged lily and a realistic-looking glass perfume
bottle in front of an oriental fan. She admired it a moment before turning sharp right and pushing open the side door with its frosted glass panels, hearing the tinkle of the little bell as she
shut it behind her. The wave of heat from the banked-up fire was almost solid.

‘Miss Johnson. You’re late. Quick, quick.’ Mrs Horsefeather fussed around her. ‘The doors will be opened at the next strike of the clock.’

Ella hung up her cloak and smoothed her skirts.

Mrs Horsefeather scowled at her and heaved herself round the back of the counter, where she took a list from a drawer. ‘Today’s callers. Lady Ireton, the Honourable Misses Edgware
– they are quite spoilt by their father, make sure you show them everything – Miss Rokeby, and the Countess of Maine. The Countess of Maine never buys anything. She’s a title but
no money. She’s just paying us a visit to be nosy. The husbands and fathers all have business with Mr Whitgift Senior, so don’t let the ladies leave until you have persuaded the
husbands to open their purses in the warehouses.’