Tilly True (41 page)

Suddenly going home didn't seem such a bad idea; she would see Ma and Pops, listen to the chatter of the children and maybe even pay a visit to Molly and her brood in Poplar. She would make her peace with Bert and Emmie, if only for Clem's sake, and she would marvel at how much baby Diamond had grown.

At the Cholmondeleys' invitation, Harriet was to spend Christmas Day with them, and she went off in a state of excitement bordering on delirium, in the expectation that Ronnie would also be there. This left Tilly and Francis to spend Christmas Day alone. Tilly dutifully accompanied Francis to church, where he read the lesson and she sat primly in the pew, uncomfortably aware of the disapproving glances from the older matrons. When the service was over and the congregation filed slowly out of the church, Francis did not offer Tilly his arm but walked on ahead. Following in his wake, Tilly was well aware that he had, albeit unintentionally, demonstrated that she was not his equal. Holding her head high, she ignored the knowing looks and nodding heads. Let them think what they like; she was as good as any of them, if not better.

Up until the moment of their departure, Tilly clung to the hope that she would receive some form of communication from Barney, but no word came. They boarded the train in Delhi station and the long journey home began. Harriet had recovered from her fit of the sulks, largely due to the unofficial engagement ring from Ronnie that she wore on a chain around her neck. Francis was not to be told, but Harriet confided in Tilly, telling her how romantic it was to be engaged in secret.

Before they left Delhi, Tilly had managed to send another telegram to Barney stating that they would be sailing on the SS
Malta
on the thirtieth of December; it was her last hope and she refused to believe that he would willingly let her leave the country without him. Clinging to the faint hope that he might turn up at the docks in Bombay, she managed to endure the boredom of the long train journey.

The ship sailed and Tilly clutched the taffrail watching with tears in her eyes until India, the land of her dreams, had faded to a thin purple band on the horizon. The roiling waters around the ship's stern seemed to match the turmoil of her emotions and there was a physical pain in her chest, as if her heart had been torn out and left in Barney's careless hands.

‘Don't cry, Tilly.' Harriet slipped her arm around Tilly's shoulders. ‘I'm sure Barney would have sent for you if he'd been able.'

Fumbling for her hanky, Tilly sniffed and blew her nose. ‘He might be injured or even dead.'

‘No, dear, of course he isn't. You can be sure of one thing and that is that bad news travels fast. We would have been notified if anything had happened to him.'

‘Yes, you're right. I know he'll send for me as soon as he can.'

‘Of course he will. And who knows, we might both be returning to India sooner than we anticipated. Come on, Tilly, let's go below and have a nice cup of tea and take a peek at the other passengers. We can decide who looks nice and who doesn't. After all, we're going to be stuck with them for a month at least.'

‘I'll probably spend the whole voyage being sick.'

‘Oh, dear! You are down in the dumps. You mustn't even think about mal de mer. This time, I'm going to see that you have as much fun as I do.'

A New Year's Eve party set the tone of the trip and Harriet saw to it that Tilly was included in all the social activities. To her surprise and relief, Tilly was not at all seasick and the month-long voyage passed much more pleasantly than the outward journey.

It was raining when they docked in London, the steady, drenching, ice-cold rain of an English winter. Tilting her face upwards, Tilly allowed the rainwater to trickle into her mouth and down her neck; it tasted of soot and smoke and she knew that she was home.

Francis organised a cab and sent porters scurrying off to find their luggage.

‘Can we please stay in a hotel, just for tonight?' Harriet said, clutching his arm and adopting a pleading expression. ‘It will be dark soon. And it'll take ages to get home by train.'

‘Nonsense.' Francis consulted his pocket watch. ‘It's only three o'clock. We'll be home in time for dinner. I'm not wasting money on an expensive hotel.' He turned to Tilly. ‘Get in the cab, please, Tilly, or we'll miss our connection.'

Tilly shook her head. ‘I'm not coming with you, Francis.'

‘But that's absurd,' Harriet said, her eyes wide with dismay. ‘Where else would you go?'

‘I'm going home.' Tilly picked up her valise and portmanteau, thankful that she had so few clothes, unlike Harriet who had two cabin trunks and a pile of bandboxes.

Francis glared at her, his mouth working with irritation. ‘Don't be ridiculous. Of course you're coming with us. Palgrave Manor is your home until Barnaby sends for you.'

‘No, thank you all the same, but I'm going home.' Spotting a hansom cab that had just dropped a fare off, Tilly put two fingers in her mouth and whistled.

‘Tilly!' Francis stared at her in horror. ‘What sort of behaviour is that for a lady?'

Giggling, Harriet covered her mouth with her hand.

‘Oh, Francis! We both know that I'm not a lady, so why keep up the pretence? I'm grateful to you and Hattie for everything you've done for me, but I don't belong in Palgrave Manor. If he wants me, then Barney knows where to find me.'

The hansom cab pulled up beside them and the cabby leapt down to help Tilly with her bag. ‘Where to, lady?'

‘Red Dragon Passage, please, cabby.' Flinging her arms around Hattie's neck, Tilly kissed her on the cheek. ‘Goodbye, dear Hattie.'

‘Don't do this, Tilly, please.'

‘It's for the best, but we'll see each other again soon, when Barney comes home.' Tilly climbed up into the cab, waving to Hattie and a grim-faced Francis as the driver urged his horse forward.

Nellie looked up, staring at Tilly as if she were a complete stranger.

‘Ma, it's me.'

‘Oh, my God!' Clapping her hand over her mouth, Nellie got slowly to her feet.

‘I've come home.' Tilly flung her arms round her mother's neck, laughing and crying both at the same time. ‘I've missed you all so much.'

‘You nearly give me a heart attack, you daft thing. Walking in off the street like that when I thought you was still in foreign parts.' Gently freeing herself, Nellie sat down again, wiping her eyes on her apron. ‘Where is he then, that toff that you married out of hand?'

The bitter note in Nellie's voice made Tilly shudder inwardly, but she managed to smile. ‘Barney's off fighting on the North-West Frontier, Ma. I had to come home because there wasn't a suitable married quarter for us.'

‘So you come home alone, then?'

‘It's not what you think, honest. And I didn't come alone; I travelled with Hattie and Francis. They wanted me to go with them to Palgrave Manor but I wanted to come home.' Tilly could see that Ma was going to take some convincing. Taking off her hat and the fur-lined cape she shivered, realising for the first time that there was no fire burning in the grate and the room was bitterly cold. ‘Never mind all that, it's not important now. How are things?'

‘Could be better. Your dad has been in bed with his chest since before Christmas and I've got two jobs on the go.' Nellie glanced down at her chapped, red hands and pulled a face. ‘I does the early morning cleaning in one place and I'm washer-up at the King's Head of a night. It don't bring in much but it keeps us fed.'

In spite of the semi-darkness of a winter afternoon, Tilly was painfully aware that Ma's parchment-pale face was crazed with a mesh of lines, giving her the appearance of an old woman. If she had felt any self-pity for her own situation, it was wiped away in that harsh moment of truth. ‘Well, I'm home now and I'll make things easier for you, I promise.'

‘You're a good girl, love. But you're a lady now. You don't belong here no more; you ought to go and stay with your new family.'

‘You and Pops and the nippers are my family, Ma, and I'll not see you work yourself to the bone.' Hearing a rattling cough from the bedroom above, Tilly made a move towards the stairs. ‘I'm going upstairs to see Pops and as soon as the youngsters get home from school I'll send them out for coal and food.'

‘Wait. Ned's only just dropped off to sleep. The coughing kept him awake all night and I spent me last penny on a drop of laudanum to give him some ease.'

‘Then I'll go to the shop round the corner.'

‘Not dressed like that you won't,' Nellie cried, jumping to her feet. ‘Have you forgotten what it's like round here? They'd have that fur cape off your back as soon as look at you –
and
them fancy kid gloves.'

She had forgotten, or almost forgotten, even though it was only a matter of months since she had left the East End. Tilly sat down, shaking her head. ‘Am I so different now, Ma?'

Nellie plucked a much darned woollen shawl from the back of a chair, wrapping it around her head and shoulders. ‘I'll go over the road and beg a pot of hot water from Enid.' Picking up the old brown teapot, Nellie took off the lid and sniffed the contents. ‘We've only made a couple of brews from these leaves. I expects they'll make us another.'

Tilly sat and waited while Ma went across the street. Upstairs she could hear Pops's stertorous breathing, punctuated by the occasional, rattling cough. Shivering, she got to her feet, wrapping her arms round herself and walking up and down in an effort to keep warm. The fur-lined cape lay on the chair, but somehow she did not have the heart to put it on; not while Ma was outside in the bitter cold of a February dusk, begging for a pot of hot water.

Minutes later, Nellie returned, smiling. ‘She's a good sort, is Enid. She even give me a lump of sugar, though of course I'll see she has it back when I get paid.'

Remembering the lavish breakfast that had been served on board ship, Tilly's stomach clenched with guilt as she watched Ma pour the dark liquid into chipped cups, scraping a little sugar from the lump and adding it to the tea. Such a small feat was obviously a triumph and Nellie handed her the cup, smiling proudly. ‘I dunno where we'd be without good neighbours, Tilly. And that's the truth.'

The tea was stewed and even the addition of a little sugar could not disguise its bitter taste, but Tilly knew this was a luxury and she drank it down to the black leaves at the bottom of the cup.

‘There's nothing like a cup of tea to make things seem a bit better,' Nellie said, eyeing Tilly with her head on one side.

Anticipating bad news, Tilly put down her cup. ‘There's something you aren't telling me. What is it?'

‘I didn't have no choice, ducks. We was in a bad way around Christmas and she come to the door looking for you.'

‘Who did? Who came looking for me?'

‘That woman what took you in. Mrs Jameson, her that owns the gentlemen's club in Blossom Court. She said she had something to tell you, something that you ought to know, only she wouldn't say what. Anyway, she come in and I give her a cup of tea, like you do to a visitor. She looks around and says, "I can see as how you're having a bit of a difficult time, Mrs True, and being a friend of Mr Barney Palgrave, I'd like to help if I can." Ever so nice she was, Tilly.'

‘What did she do? Tell me.'

‘She offered Lizzie a job in her establishment. She said she'd have her trained up to be a parlour maid and she give Lizzie two months' wages there and then, on the spot. So Lizzie give it me and I was able to pay the back rent what was owing. Lizzie was really happy to go with her. Tilly, why are you looking at me like that? Did I do wrong?'

Chapter Twenty

Nellie's face was a picture of shock and horror as Tilly told her bluntly that the nice Mrs Jameson was the keeper of a brothel. She was a callous dealer in human flesh making a handsome profit out of her clients' depravity. By the time Tilly had finished telling her mother about the rape, Nellie was in floods of tears, even though Tilly had spared her the more painful and degrading details. Nellie was even more horrified to realise that she had been duped into allowing her twelve-year-old daughter to go into service in such a house, but even so she begged Tilly not to undertake the journey to Ludgate Hill until morning. To venture out alone, at night, dressed like a rich woman, would be to court disaster. Reluctantly, Tilly listened to common sense. After all, Lizzie had been living in Jessie's establishment for almost two months; one more night was not going to make much difference. Tomorrow morning, first thing, she would go to Blossom Court and bring Lizzie home; she would give Jessie what for and no mistake.

There was little time to worry about Lizzie when Winnie, Jim and Dan returned home from school. They threw themselves at Tilly, hugging her and clinging to her as if they were afraid she might disappear again. Delving into her valise, Tilly brought out the presents that she had bought in a bazaar near Victoria station in Bombay: glass beads for Winnie and Lizzie and ebony elephants with ivory tusks for Jim and Dan. Tilly placed Lizzie's necklace on the mantelshelf for safety, together with a brass vesta case for Pops, which she would give him when he awakened from his nap. Lastly, Tilly produced a cashmere shawl for Ma, wrapping it round her mother's thin shoulders. Nellie sat there fingering the fine material with tears running down her cheeks, declaring that she had never seen anything like it in her life. Then Jim said he was starving and that set the other two off. Tilly sat back in her chair, smiling; it was good to be home, but she must be practical and the family was in desperate need of food and fuel.