Tilly True (15 page)

‘Miss Tilly.'

Wiping her eyes on the back of her hand, Tilly skidded to a halt. ‘Clem?'

He grinned sheepishly, tugging off his cloth cap. ‘Are you all right, miss?'

‘I'm fine. It's the east wind making me eyes water.'

‘I take it you seen him, then?'

‘I seen him and I told him what I think of him.'

‘He ain't all bad. He's a decent bloke at heart and it weren't easy for him bringing up us two boys on his own.'

Clem was staring down at the cap in his hands, twirling it and sounding so apologetic that Tilly felt like shaking him. ‘Don't make excuses for him. I had a sample of your dad's behaviour and I wouldn't like a repeat. He's a brute and a bully and my little sister is too good for him.'

‘I daresay she is, but he means to see her right.' Raising his head, Clem's expressive eyes were full of concern.

Remembering his kindness to her, Tilly relented just a bit. ‘I can see you believe what you're saying, Clem, and I ain't got a problem with you. You was good to me and I don't forget it.'

‘That were a bad do and I ain't forgiven the old man for what he done to you, but he's a changed man since he found out about the nipper and he's done his best to put the house to rights.' Growing restive, the horse reared its head and Clem gathered the reins in his hands. ‘Best walk him a bit, if you don't mind.'

‘I got to go,' Tilly said, shoving her cold hands in her pockets. Her fingers curled round the packet of cigarettes and she brought them out, staring at them with fresh tears starting out of her eyes. Now she would not be able to give them to Pops. She would have to miss seeing him altogether.

‘What's up?'

Startled by Clem's ability to sense her moods, Tilly felt her guard slipping. Her lips trembled. ‘I bought these for me dad. I won't see him now.'

‘Don't see why not,' Clem said, grinning. ‘I know your old man; all us watermen and lightermen knows each other. I seen him down Capital Wharf not an hour ago. Chances are we'll catch him if we get a move on.'

‘What about your dad? What'll he say if he finds his cart missing?'

‘Miss Tilly, you worry too much. Hop up on the cart and I'll deal with the old man.'

‘Well, if you're sure.'

‘Got to walk old Neptune, ain't I?'

Before Tilly had a chance to hitch up her long skirt, Clem had swung her off her feet and lifted her onto the driver's seat. He leapt up beside her, flicked the reins and encouraged the old horse to a brisk trot.

They reached Capital Wharf just as the last load of provisions was loaded onto Ned's boat. He had been about to get on board when Clem hailed him, and Tilly stood up in the well of the cart waving frantically. Climbing back up the stone steps, Ned strode across the quay. Lifting Tilly, he set her down after giving her a hug that made her ribs creak. ‘This is a surprise, love. I thought you was off to foreign parts with the vicar and his sister.'

‘That's been delayed, Pops. I've been working in a law office as a lady type-writer.'

‘Well now, ducks, there's a thing.' Jerking his head in Clem's direction, Ned grinned. ‘How do you know this young rascal, Tilly?'

‘Pops, you know who this is?'

‘Aye, girl, it's young Clem. He and his brother Abel work the river at night.'

‘He's Clem Tuffin, Pops. Bert's son.'

Ned's grin faded and his brow furrowed. ‘Is he now?'

Clem held out his hand. ‘I hopes you won't hold that against me, Mr True. I don't always agree with me dad but I'm sure he means to make amends for the hurt he's caused your family.'

Ned's good-natured smile lit his pale eyes and he slapped Clem on the back. ‘Well said, boy. I'm coming round to things gradual like. I'm not a man to be pushed but I admire you for sticking up for your father.' Turning to Tilly, he patted her cheek. ‘My, you look fine, Tilly. I'm so proud of you, girl.'

‘Oh, Pops.' Tilly swallowed a lump that seemed to have lodged in her throat. Taking the cigarettes from her pocket, she pressed them into Ned's calloused hand. ‘Here you are, Pops. I'd hoped to see you at the house but I run into Clem and he brought me here.'

‘Ta, love.' Leaning against the cart, Ned opened the packet and offered one to Clem, who shook his head. ‘Don't smoke? Maybe you should, boy. Helps to kill the bad vapours from the river, or so I've been told.'

‘That's as maybe, Mr True, but I never took to it somehow. Now Abel and me dad, that's another matter.'

Cupping his hands round a box of Bryant and May's matches, Ned lit a cigarette drawing the smoke into his lungs with a satisfied sigh, followed by a fit of coughing. ‘There,' he gasped. ‘You see, it's good for you. Brings the phlegm up a treat.'

‘Are you well now, Pops?' Alarmed by the sudden pallor of his skin, Tilly laid her hand on his shoulder.

‘Fighting fit, ducks.' Ned took another drag on his cigarette and blew a few smoke rings as if to prove a point. ‘Look, love, I've got to get back to the boat. Can't idle about on shore. But it's good to see you and to know you're doing well.'

‘I am,' Tilly lied; she couldn't bear to see the proud smile fade into a look of disappointment. ‘I'm doing ever so well at Mr Barney's chambers. I might even study to be an articled clerk like Mr Bootle. Women are getting jobs in all sorts of professions now, you know, Pops.'

Throwing back his head and laughing, Ned pinched Tilly's cheek. ‘Whatever next? I suppose they'll have women lawyers and judges soon.'

‘If anyone could do it, I reckon Tilly could,' Clem said, nodding in agreement.

‘I'll see you very soon, Pops.' Flinging her arms around Ned's neck, Tilly gave him a hug. She stood by the cart watching as he went down the steps to his lighter, waving to her and puffing away on his cigarette.

‘Shall I take you back to your place of work?'

Turning with a start, Tilly met Clem's questioning gaze with a shrug. ‘Ta, but I can walk.'

‘It's no trouble. Neptune could do with the exercise and I reckon the old man will be a while yet.'

Thinking quickly, Tilly decided she had very little choice. The early morning sunshine had disappeared behind lumbering clouds that threatened rain; she would have to return to Blossom Court for one night at least, until she could find another job and somewhere more suitable to stay. ‘If you could drop me off at Ludgate Hill, that would be a help.'

‘Best hurry then,' Clem said, swinging her up onto the seat. ‘Looks like rain.'

Sitting beside him as he guided Neptune through the busy dock traffic of drays, carts, cabs and wagons, Tilly realised, somewhat reluctantly, that there was more to Clem Tuffin than she had imagined. At first she had labelled him as an uncouth lout, just like his father and brother, but today she was seeing him in a different and more flattering light. Although he still wore the clothes of a labouring man – leather gaiters and a wide leather belt with a brass buckle, a neckerchief and a cloth cap – at least he looked as if he had taken the trouble to wash and his hair was clean, waving back off his forehead and curling behind his ears.

‘Penny for 'em?'

Clem had turned his head and was grinning at her. Realising that she had been staring, Tilly felt herself blushing. ‘I was just wondering why you wasn't at work. I mean, I thought you and Abel worked nights on the river.'

‘Did is the word. Abel wants to carry on but I've had me fill of dragging corpses out of the water or ferrying drunken sailors back to their ships.'

Despite her loathing for the Tuffins, Tilly was curious. ‘So what are you going to do?'

‘I'm thinking of joining the army.'

‘You're lucky. Being a man, I mean. You can do anything you want to do.'

Clem shot her a curious glance. ‘I thought you was one of them new women set on doing a man's work.'

‘Why should women be stuck with the rotten jobs?'

‘Because it's up to the man to earn the bread and look after his family. When I get wed I'm going to take care of my missis proper and see she don't want for nothing.'

Shrugging her shoulders, Tilly couldn't argue with his logic, but it didn't mean she had to agree with him. ‘So you say, but it don't always work out like that; I seen me mum working her fingers to the bone to help feed us kids. I don't want that kind of life for meself.'

‘It sounds to me like you're ashamed of your family now you're a lady type-writer working for the nobs.' Clem flicked the reins so that Neptune shambled into a tired trot.

‘Who asked you anyway?' Realising that they were getting close to Blossom Court, Tilly grabbed Clem's arm. ‘Stop here and let me get off. I can walk the rest of the way.'

‘It's starting to rain,' Clem said, glancing up at the lowering sky. ‘You'll get soaked. It ain't no trouble to see you to the door. Where do I go from here?'

Try as she might, Tilly could not persuade Clem to set her down until they reached Blossom Court, and as it had begun to rain heavily he insisted on driving the cart right up to the front entrance.

‘This is it. Stop here.' Without waiting for him to help her, Tilly attempted to get down on her own, but Miss Dolly's voluminous lace petticoat had got caught on a nail.

Reaching over, Clem unhooked the material. ‘Bleeding hell,' he exclaimed, staring at the red light outside Jessie's premises. ‘This is a flaming brothel.'

‘Don't go running away with the wrong idea.' Tilly stood in the rain, looking up at him, more than a bit annoyed by his outraged expression. Not that it was any business of his, but she didn't want word of this getting back to Red Dragon Passage. ‘This is just temporary – me old lodgings caught on fire in the middle of last night and I had to find somewhere else to stay.'

‘And, of course, you come straight to a brothel in Ludgate Hill. That makes sense.'

‘Don't try and get clever with me, Clem Tuffin. As a matter of fact Mr Barney brought me here, seeing as how Mrs Jameson is one of his clients and owes him a favour, so there.'

‘Just you get back on the cart,' Clem said, scowling. ‘I ain't leaving you here and I'd like to meet your Mr Barney face to face. I'd give him a piece of my mind, putting a young girl like you in a place like this. What would your dad say?'

Backing away, Tilly brushed the rainwater from her eyes, suddenly anxious. ‘I'll be fine here, really I will, but you won't tell Pops, will you?'

‘Come with me, Tilly.' Clem's expression softened. ‘Let me help you find respectable lodgings suitable for a young lady, not a whore.'

‘You got a blooming nerve, speaking to me like that. Get about your own business and leave me be.' Running up the steps, Tilly tugged at the doorbell. ‘Go away, Clem. Get back to your old man. You're the one in danger of getting your head bashed in, not me.'

Wilson opened the door, taking in the situation with a practised glance. ‘Is he bothering you, miss?'

‘He's me brother,' Tilly said, without stopping to think. ‘He thinks he can tell me what to do.'

‘Brothers!' Wilson shook her fist at Clem. ‘You don't have to tell me nothing about brothers. I got six of the buggers.'

‘I'm going, Tilly,' Clem shouted, standing up in the well of the cart. ‘But I ain't happy about this situation.'

Wilson shut the door on him. ‘Never mind him, miss, he'll get over it.' Opening a door off the hallway, she beckoned Tilly. ‘There's a fire in the parlour. I'll bring you a bowl of soup and some coffee. You look perished.'

While Wilson hurried off to the kitchen, Tilly went into the parlour and perched on a chair by the fire, warming her hands and feet. The room was not, as Tilly had imagined, decked with mirrors and oriental wall hangings, like the pictures of a seraglio that she had seen in one of Molly's penny dreadfuls; it was furnished with good taste and with no expense spared when it came to comfort and elegance. Looking around, wide-eyed, Tilly thought that the Queen could not have better at Buckingham Palace. As the warmth crept back into her chilled body, Tilly tried to work out what to do next. It was obvious that she could not stay here for long, but her most pressing problem was to find employment and find it quickly. She looked up as the door opened. Instead of Wilson carrying a tray of food as she had expected, Tilly was startled to see a tall, beautiful young woman dressed in a blue silk gown that swished as she walked.

‘Hello. I didn't know we had a new girl.'

Jumping to her feet, Tilly clasped her hands behind her back. ‘I – well, I'm not a new girl exactly. I'm just staying here for a bit.'

Undulating rather than walking, the vision in blue manoeuvred her elegant body onto a couch with a sigh. ‘Really, I don't know what Jessie thinks she is about sometimes. You do know what sort of house this is, don't you, Miss . . . er – what is your name, dear?'

‘Tilly True, miss. And I ain't a simpleton. Jessie is letting me stay here because Mr Barney Palgrave asked her to.'

‘Of course, I should have known. If Barney asked her to stick her head in the fire, she would probably do it, especially now, with the police trying to close us down.'

Before Tilly could question the languid beauty any further, Wilson arrived with the tray. She stopped short and frowned. ‘I didn't know you was up, Miss Florrie.'

‘Halfway up at least,' Florrie said, with a lazy smile. ‘My whole life is spent only halfway up, Tilly. That's the way the gentlemen prefer me. I daresay if one was to find me standing up, he would run a mile. I'm too tall, you see. Gentlemen don't like a lady to tower above them.'