The Gilded Lily (38 page)

‘That’s good. I’m glad she’s still there. I thought she must have moved on when you did, and I worry if the place is empty. Ask her if she’ll keep an eye on the
place for us, would you? I’ve got to stay in Epping a while longer, Ma’s right bad. I thought it’d only be a day or two, but I’ve just come to ask the gaffer if I can have
another week. He were right kind about it, says he’ll keep my position till Ma’s better. What shall I tell her? Ma, I mean, about you moving out?’

‘Nothing. It would make her suspicious. She don’t need to know anything. I pay the rent, don’t I? There’s still one girl living there. She’ll just think it’s
me.’

Dennis frowned and looked like he was about to speak, but Ella continued, ‘It’s temporary. I told you that from the beginning. But just give us another month or so. I’ll see
you set right – a bit of extra for your trouble.’

She wedged the fan under her arm and fumbled in her purse. She didn’t want Dennis poking his nose into it. It was clear he did not approve of Sadie being left on her own, and he might let
Sadie out, then she might try to run home, causing all sorts of mayhem. She couldn’t keep her there for ever, she knew, but maybe in a week or so the notices would be down.

‘Here,’ she said, holding out a handful of coins, ‘this is for last month, and this month too.’

Dennis took it, saying, ‘Well, at least you’ve not asked for credit. You’ve been good tenants that way.’ He held out the change.

‘No, keep it. It’s a bit spare for your trouble, you know, for keeping quiet about us.’

Dennis looked taken aback. ‘No, I can’t accept that. It’s only what any friend would do.’ He tried to thrust it back into her hand.

Ella stepped away. She did not want that threadbare Dennis to be a friend. ‘You take it. For physic for your ma. I can afford it. I’ve been taken on proper now.’

Dennis looked down on the coins askance, but Ella folded her arms. Eventually he withdrew his hand with a shrug and put it away. ‘Well, thanks. I guess you’re right, I’ll need
this for the apothecary. It’s this bloody winter. Ma’s cough’s a deal worse in this cold, and she’s feverish.’

Ella turned to go, but he followed her. She stopped, irritated. He rubbed his hands through his bristly hair. ‘I dunno what to think. I’m afraid her mind’s gone. She says you
went in to see her last Monday afternoon, insistent she was, made a big song and dance about it. I was in half a mind to give you notice, but then I remembered. I saw you here serving in the Lily,
Monday. So I know it’s all rank nonsense she’s talking. She keeps raving that you’re not the same girl you were. It must be your hair. I noticed it’s different. When we get
back from Auntie’s, happen you’ll call in on her, it might help.’

‘Hmm,’ said Ella, nodding but knowing she would not.

‘Say hello to Sadie. Be sure and tell her we’ll be back Friday. I’ll call then, bring her some more of my penny books, tell her all about it.’

Ella smiled. She was pleased he was staying away. An instinct told her he certainly would not like the idea of the lock. If the Gowpers were away, she would be able to come and go as she
pleased, without hearing a shout from downstairs every time she so much as breathed. And Dennis was far too meddlesome, she didn’t want the likes of him befriending Sadie. The great
carthorse, what did she see in him anyway? She pushed away a twinge of jealousy.

Ella returned to the counter. Looking at the customers all morning in their fine jewellery set off a hankering for something with a bit of sparkle, something to catch the light
– and Jay’s attention. It was sale day today – she would buy earrings.

Later she went to the warehouses and soon found the section with the cheaper jewellery. It was staffed by several young tough-looking lads, to deter anyone who dared to think they might pilfer
something. Whitgift’s was locktight to thieves. If anyone tried to leave with goods they had not paid for, the alarm was raised and the gates shut and the constable called. Walt Whitgift had
built his reputation on fair trade, they said, and he came down hard on those who broke the law. She doubted that his son was quite so scrupulous.

She wandered along the tables, looking into the small trays with the cloak pins and watch chains laid out. There was a whole section of jewellery with knots or tresses of human hair woven into
elaborate miniature plaits and pressed into rings or brooches. It reminded her of Madame Lefevre, and of her time in the dank basement of the wig shop. Thank the Lord she didn’t have to put
up with the stench of greasy hair any more. She shook her shoulders as if to rid herself of the memory, and moved swiftly past, looking for the section with the earrings.

She averted her eyes as she passed a wooden tray containing gold and ivory teeth on wires. Did people really pawn these? And who would buy them? As if to answer her question an old woman in a
stained serving-smock came up and began to turn them over, obviously looking for a tooth that would fit. Shuddering, Ella moved along, until she saw the glint and twinkle that had always fascinated
her. Five minutes later she was back again, carrying a small twist of paper with her new earrings inside. The barber-surgeon would pierce her ears the lad had said, and he was open until dusk. It
would be painful – she would have to bite on her folded glove – but worth it.

She felt a little guilty about buying the earrings. Jay had agreed to advance her two pounds for the alteration of a new velvet gown from the warehouse since she was to be working evenings too,
and she had collected the gown only yesterday. Now her conscience needled her. She knew she was supposed to have spent that money on a gown for Sadie, and now she had been tempted by new earrings
too. But the little glass pendants had been irresistible.

She wandered over to the clothing tables and picked out a serviceable gold-coloured holland gown, just a little worn on the bodice. It had matching sleeves too, with the laces and all. It
wasn’t silk or velvet, but surely it would do for Sadie. When Sadie got a position she would be able to save, like Ella had, for a better one.

Ella knew in her heart this was a myth, a story she was telling herself. She knew that in a way Sadie was right, that she would be too frightened to go out into the world the way Ella had, the
stain was too raw, and she would be scared of someone unmasking her. Even if Sadie agreed to wear the ceruse, Ella herself was not sure she could bear the worry of it, wondering what she was up to
every day. It was hard enough to keep herself out of trouble. She sighed. Why was everything so difficult? But Ella had no other plan; the thought of ministering to Sadie for ever was a thought she
could not brook.

Ella turned the bottom of the yellow dress to look at the quality of the stitching. The hem was worn to nothing in some places, but the bodice was the right size.

‘How much?’

‘Five shilling.’

‘You’ve naught cheaper?’

‘It’s a good ’un, that. Quality.’

‘Look at the wear on that hem, I’m not paying that. I’ll give you two.’

‘Don’t know as I can—’

‘I work here in the Lily. Jay Whitgift says I can have it cut-price.’

‘I know. Miss Johnson, ain’t it? I’ve seen you about.’

There was not enough in her purse to pay for it, but she flashed her eyes and talked sweetly to the warehouse lad and finally he let her have it on the slate. He wrapped it for her, staring all
the while as if she were a sideshow. She pandered to him just for the fun of it until the poor lad was quite red in the face. If only she could have that effect on Jay Whitgift.

Sadie leaned her elbows on the windowsill. Outside the window the river was silent and shiny, the surface still as a mirror, reflecting the grey sky and the buildings and
cathedral of Southwark on the other side. For a few days now there had been no traffic up and down, and it was unnaturally still. The river frozen was a different creature altogether.

The frost had papered the wooden sill with white fingers of ferns, and when she hitched back the curtain to look out that afternoon she saw that the glassy water was dotted with little black
coals. At least that was what she thought they were, until she saw one fall from the sky. It landed with hardly a sound. And then she realized. They were starlings, the blood frozen in their hearts
even in flight.

Their chambers were quiet without Ma’s cough from beneath. It was surprising just how much comfort was to be had from knowing there was another person downstairs.

She picked up her knitting and wound the silk slowly round the needles. She was knitting slowly, partly because her fingers were cold and stiff, but mostly because she wanted to make the
activity last a long time. The bone needles clacked and she pulled the silk taut, feeling it slide through her fingers. They were smooth now she was no longer working at the wig shop. She sighed,
wondering how Corey and Betsy and the others were, and whether Mercy Fletcher still ruled the roost.

One pair of stockings lay folded on the kitchen table; they were the pair for Ella, long in the leg with tiny feet. Now she knitted her own – her feet were larger and her legs shorter. She
did not know if she would ever have chance to wear them, or even finish them, because there was only one skein of the silk left and each pair took three skeins.

When Ella arrived this time with the provisions, Sadie did not look up but smelt the perfume that hung on her clothes, saw her lace-gloved hands place a small bag on the table.

She carried on knitting, ignored the parcel.

‘Oh, are those my stockings – let’s have a deek.’ Ella picked up the finished pair and hung them over her palm. ‘Oh, Sadie, they’re right fine, did they take
you long to do?’

‘There’s nothing else to do in here but knit.’

‘I’ll think of you every time I wear them,’ Ella said, wafting the filmy stockings back and forth.

Sadie gritted her teeth; she doubted it. She squashed her ill-temper by stabbing with the needles more intently.

‘Today it’s sausage and some apples, and a few other bits and bobs.’ Ella unloaded her basket piece by piece. She did this without bending; the stiff blue material of her dress
rustled. As usual Sadie could not resist standing up to take a look in the basket. She was slightly pacified to see more skeins of silk as well as some string and a block of beeswax to make
candles. Ella lined everything up on the table and Sadie knew she was expecting her to admire it and compliment her on her choices, but she just nodded.

‘Are them notices still up?’ she asked.

‘Stop asking me that. I’d tell you, wouldn’t I, if they weren’t. But I’ve brought you something.’ Ella pointed to the brown packet on the table. ‘Hair
dye. It’s black. I thought ’twould suit your colouring better than the yellow. And it will look fine, with your complexion made-up—’

Sadie began to speak but Ella spoke over her. ‘And there’s something else. I don’t want you to say no until you’ve seen it.’

She lifted a big flat box tied with string onto the table.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s a gown.’

‘You’re jesting.’

‘It is. Told you I’d save for one.’

Sadie did not move.

‘Aren’t you going to open it?’

‘You do it.’

‘Here then, bring us a knife for the string.’

Sadie went to the shelf and brought back a knife, passed it to Ella handle first. Ella sawed through the string and pulled open the lid. A mass of heavy gold-coloured damask was revealed.

‘Go on, bring it out.’

Sadie put her hand into the box and drew out a handful of the stuff. It was a full skirt, cold to the touch and there was a slight rancid smell to the cloth. ‘Where did you get
it?’

‘Whitgift’s of course. Had to save my wages for it.’

Sadie hefted it up and put the skirt aside on a chair before pulling out the bodice, holding it out at arm’s length. It was a little creased, but finer than anything she had ever worn
before. She flicked her hair forward over her face, the gesture she always made when she was uncomfortable. She could not imagine herself dressed in this gown. Even with her hair dyed black and her
face hidden beneath a plaster of white. She was not Ella. She dropped the bodice onto the table.

‘I can’t wear that. You’ll have to take it back.’

‘Why? It will fit, look, there’s plenty of room in that bodice.’ Ella stretched the seams between her hands.

‘I’m not wearing it, I wouldn’t look right.’

There were two patches of bright red on Ella’s cheeks now. ‘But you’d be free, you could go out, you’d be able to look out for yourself, get a position, you
wouldn’t need me any more to help you.’

‘So that’s it. Sick of looking after me are you? I never asked you to. I never asked you to lock me up in here.’

‘I had to. To save your skin. Oh come on, Sadie, it was for your own good. Just say you’ll think on it. Dressed in this and with the face powder you could go anywhere. Honestly, the
face powder’s gentle enough for a baby’s behind, you could just try it—’

‘Who’d take me on? I wouldn’t dare smile in case the paint cracked. I’d be found out in no time. Madame would know me straight away.’