Tilly True (44 page)

Emily recovered quickly from the birth of Rose Matilda, who was a chubby, placid baby who hardly ever cried and quickly became everyone's darling. Bert's condition was stable although not much improved, and with the return of spring Ned was well enough to go back to work on the lighters.

The evening sun was sinking rapidly in the west as Tilly brought in the goods she had laid out for display on the pavement. It was nine o'clock in the evening and the last customer had just left, after purchasing an armchair with a slightly moth-eaten appearance that was going cheap. Tilly had been up since first light, going out on her rounds with Neptune before she opened the shop at half past seven, in the hope of catching customers on their way to work in the docks. She was tired and her back was aching from lifting items that were far too heavy for a man, let alone a woman, but somehow she managed even the hardest tasks more by willpower than by strength. Pausing in the doorway, she could see a forest of masts bobbing gently on the tide, and she listened to the familiar sounds of the river. No matter what time of day or night, the docks did not sleep. Ships moored alongside and had to be unloaded; the evening air resonated with the grinding and banging of hatches as they opened to reveal their cargoes, accompanied by the shouts of stevedores and the groaning whine of cranes. Steam whistles hooted and lighters tooted in answer. Tilly loved the teeming life of the docks and the raucous energy of the multitude of nationalities who lived, worked, loved and died there. Most of all she admired their unquenchable spirit as they survived the squalor, disease and poverty that went hand in hand with living in the East End.

Breathing in, she smiled as she inhaled the aroma of roasting coffee beans emanating from one of the warehouses on the wharf. It was a good smell that almost, but not quite, obliterated the stench of drains, sewers and the carpet of horse dung that covered the street. Bending down to pick up a solid wooden chair, Tilly felt her back creak in protest.

‘Here, let me do that. It's far too heavy for you.'

Startled, Tilly snapped upright and found herself looking at Clem.

Chapter Twenty-One

‘Clem!' Tilly could only repeat his name; the shock of seeing him had temporarily robbed her of speech.

Lifting the chair, Clem carried it into the shop. Tilly followed him, too stunned to speak. He stood for a moment, looking at the stock that Tilly had taken so much time and trouble to display to its best advantage. ‘You did all this for my old man, even after the way he treated you?'

Hearing the catch in his voice and seeing the look of admiration in his eyes, Tilly felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She turned away, fighting for composure as she closed the door and dropped the latch. ‘I only did what anyone else would have done.'

‘No, Tilly, you did far more than that. I can't think of any other woman who would have turned their hand to such hard work. Even the old man agrees with me, though he can't say much.'

‘You've seen him, then?'

‘I went home first and Emily told me what you done and where to find you.'

Turning round slowly, Tilly took a good look at Clem. He had looked like death when she had last seen him in the hospital ward but now, although there were lines of suffering etched on his tanned face, he looked much more like his old self. Apart from a pronounced limp, he seemed to have made an excellent recovery.

With his innate ability to read her thoughts, Clem grinned ruefully. ‘At least they didn't chop me leg off. It'll never be right but at least I can walk, though the army didn't think I was fit for service. They've discharged me, Tilly.'

Quick to hear the note of sadness creeping into his voice, Tilly laid her hand on his shoulder. ‘Welcome home, Clem. It's good to see you.'

‘Are you really pleased to see me?'

‘Yes, yes, of course I am.' Moving away, Tilly reached for her shawl and slipped it around her shoulders. She held out her hand. ‘Let's go home.'

Taking her hand in his, Clem stared down at her bare fingers. ‘Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?'

She couldn't tell him what Barney had done; she couldn't admit her shame and humiliation, not even to Clem. In her heart she knew that she was blameless and the victim of Barney's cruel deceit, but admitting her own gullibility to the world was another matter. Tilly had not told anyone, not even Ma and Pops. Would they have believed her if she had revealed the whole sad story? She doubted it: she had told so many lies in the past that the boundaries between truth and fiction had become blurred and indistinct. Sometimes it was easier to stretch the truth a bit than to be strictly honest, and this was one of them. Tilly avoided meeting Clem's eyes. ‘There wasn't any money so I pawned them. But the shop is doing well and I'll be able to redeem them soon.' Tilly shot Clem a look beneath her lashes. ‘It's all right, really it is.'

‘And what does that husband of yours think of all this? Have you told him what you're doing?'

‘I wrote him.'

‘Tilly, you're not telling me everything. When I came out of the hospital in Meerut I went straight to the bungalow in Delhi. I was told that the Reverend and his family had left for England. Why did Barney let you go?'

Shrugging her shoulders, Tilly went to the door and opened it. ‘You ask too many questions, Clem. I'm tired and I'm going home.'

Next morning, Tilly came downstairs to find Clem already up and about. He came out of the small front parlour that they used as a storeroom. ‘You've collected all that on your own?'

‘My brothers help me when they're not at school.' Walking quickly past him, Tilly went into the kitchen. ‘You've stoked the range.'

Clem grinned. ‘Had to earn my keep somehow, didn't I?'

The kettle was bubbling and hissing out steam and Tilly saw that there was a fresh loaf of bread on the table, a bowl of eggs and a pat of yellow butter. ‘You've been out shopping?'

‘I'm not entirely useless, in spite of the gammy leg.' He picked up the teapot, warming it with some boiling water from the kettle. ‘It just takes me twice as long to do things, like taking this damn teapot into the scullery and emptying it down the sink,' he added, with a wry smile.

Resisting the temptation to help him, Tilly watched as he limped painfully out into the scullery. ‘You don't have to prove anything to me,' she said, as Clem hobbled back into the room. ‘I'm just glad you survived that terrible injury.'

‘Are you? Are you really, Tilly?'

‘Of course I am. And I've been thinking, you could be a big help to me in the shop. It's a lot for me to manage on my own.'

Clem made the tea, saying nothing, but Tilly could tell by the hunch of his shoulders that he was going to be difficult.

‘I'm offering you a job. If you can manage the shop then I can be out getting stock. I can't pay you a lot but we could build up the business and you'd have a share of the profits.'

Clem turned on her, his hazel eyes flashing. ‘I'm not a charity case. You don't have to feel sorry for me.'

‘I don't. That isn't fair.'

‘Maybe not, but that's what it would be. You taking in a poor crippled man and giving him a job just because he's family.'

‘It isn't like that. I need help.'

‘Oh, I know you mean well. But you're just biding your time until Barney sends for you and then you'll be off to join him without a backward glance. I know you, Tilly – you live in a dream world. Well, this is real life, and I may be a cripple but I'm still a man with feelings.'

‘I don't understand. Why are you being so mean when I'm trying to help you?'

Grabbing her by the shoulders, Clem lifted her chin so that she was forced to meet his eyes. ‘You really don't understand, do you? I love you, Tilly. I've always loved you, but you belong to another man. If I thought there was any chance for us, then I'd stay and work myself to the bone for you.'

Now was her chance to tell him the truth and ask him to stay, but the words stuck in her throat. It would be all too easy to believe that Clem truly loved her, but Barney's honeyed words still echoed painfully in her head. Men said tender things when it suited their purpose, but even so she didn't want Clem to leave. ‘Yes, I'm married to Barney but that doesn't mean I don't have feelings for you, Clem.' Tilly caught her breath as she saw the glimmer of hope in his eyes and added hastily, ‘I mean, I love you like a brother. We're family now and we've got to stick by each other. Please stay. I need you.'

‘Brother!' Clem let his hands drop to his sides, shaking his head. ‘It wouldn't work. You're asking too much of me. I'll leave as soon as I've made my peace with the old man.'

‘But where will you go? What will you do?'

‘Drink your tea before it gets too stewed, and don't worry about me. I won't be far away; if you ever really need me I'll be there for you, Tilly.'

Tilly bit her lip, swallowing back tears of anger and frustration. She couldn't bring herself to admit that her marriage to Barney was a sham and that he would never send for her, but the thought of Clem leaving tore at her heart. She didn't love him, not in the wild, passionate way she had loved Barney, but the idea of him living on his own, struggling to earn his bread, was almost too painful to bear. Suddenly she was angry, very angry! Angry at Barney for deceiving her, angry at the accident that had crippled a good man, and angry at Clem for . . . for what she didn't quite know.

‘Don't you dare walk out of that door, Clem Tuffin. This is your home and this is where you belong. If anyone should go it's me.'

Clem stopped in the doorway, staring at her with his brow creased in frown lines. ‘Don't be daft.'

‘You walk out of that door and I'll never speak to you again,' Tilly said, picking up his old cap and jamming it on her head. ‘I'll move into the room at the back of the shop and you stay here with your dad and Emmie. Sit round on your backside all day if you want to but I've got work to do.' Snatching up her shawl, Tilly pushed past Clem, heading for the front door.

‘No.' Clem came after her, barring her way. ‘You're right, Tilly. I'm the one not facing up to his responsibilities. I'll move into the storeroom and I'll help you in the shop or drive the cart, whatever needs doing. I won't leave you to cope on your own. And don't worry – I won't mention my feelings again.'

Tilly managed a wobbly smile. ‘That's right. You remember that I'm your aunt and you have to do what I say.'

Clem's eyes twinkled with a flash of his old humour. ‘Yes, auntie. Anything you say.'

Clem moved into the tiny storeroom behind the shop. At first Tilly felt uncomfortable in his presence and the fiction that all was well between herself and Barney lay between them like an invisible barrier. In spite of this, they formed a good working partnership, with Tilly insisting on driving the cart, collecting and delivering stock and Clem minding the shop. But there were times when the items were simply too large or too heavy for her to lift on her own and she had to turn to Clem for help. Gradually, and almost without her realising it, he began to take over the driving and the purchasing of stock. He surprised Tilly by demonstrating a real flair for business, and she came to rely on him more and more.

Spring had turned into a hot and steamy summer and the shop was bulging at the seams with stock. When the premises next door became vacant, and after a brief consultation with Clem, Tilly decided it was time to expand and she took on the rental of the second shop. She had been to a sale of fire-damaged goods and purchased several cases of china ornaments and crockery. When they were unpacked it turned out that only the packaging had suffered and the china cats, dogs and figurines were all perfect, as were the plates, cups and saucers. Tilly decided that the new shop would sell bric-a-brac, crockery and cutlery, all cheap and cheerful and within the budget of most of the people who lived in the crowded tenements and closely packed terraces.

By the end of summer sales were booming, and, although most items only sold for a penny or twopence, Tilly had built up a reputation for giving value for money. It turned out that, as well as a good head for business, Clem had a natural ability with figures and he took over the bookkeeping, relieving Tilly of a chore that she did not enjoy in the slightest. By September they had made enough profit to take on Ernest, a strong youth who was quick and eager to please. He looked after Neptune, drove the cart and did most of the heavy lifting.

At home, Lizzie was happy taking care of Diamond and little Rose Matilda, while Emily devoted most of her time to nursing Bert. He seemed to be a little better now and was able to get up for a while each day, if only to sit in the chair by the window and look down on the street. He had recovered enough speech to make himself understood and sometimes Clem carried him piggyback down the stairs so that he could sit in the kitchen and watch Diamond taking her first tottering steps. At Tilly's suggestion, and with Clem and Ernie's joint efforts, they managed to get Bert onto the cart and drove him to the shop, where he sat in a chair and seemed to take pleasure in watching the day to day running of the business.

With Clem and Ernie to help her, Tilly was able to pay brief visits home to Red Dragon Passage. She had been pleased to help them financially while Pops was sick, but with the onset of the warmer weather his health had improved enough to allow him to return to work, and Ma had at last given up her evening job at the pub. Even though she could now afford it, Tilly had not redeemed her wedding ring; she chose instead to put the money back into the business. Ma had long ceased asking questions about Barney and when Tilly might expect to be returning to India. Although it still hurt her to think about the callous way Barney had duped and used her, Tilly concentrated all her energies on building up her business.