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Authors: Dilly Court

Tags: #Historical Saga

The Dollmaker's Daughters (37 page)

BOOK: The Dollmaker's Daughters
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Holding her breath, she clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms. For the first time, Jonas dropped his gaze, staring down at his hands. ‘And you’re still in contact with Ruby?’

‘No, I told you that, but Ruby would want you to help me, you know she would.’

‘Things have changed round here since Ruby left. The police have made it too difficult to carry on my former line of business and I’m running a
legitimate gambling club now. If I agree to take you on, I want you to understand that.’

‘When do I start?’

‘Whenever you like.’

‘And I can move into Ruby’s room, so that I’m here on the premises?’

Jonas’s black brows knotted together in a frown. ‘No. You must make your own arrangements. And when you next hear from Ruby, I want to be told.’

Disappointed that she could not have Ruby’s room, but determined not to be put off by his casual manner, Rosetta let herself out of the front door. It had barely closed behind her when she spotted Billy striding along the street towards her. He was bareheaded and still wearing his white apron: his hair and eyebrows were frosted with flour, making him look like an angry Christmas-card Santa Claus. She might have laughed at his appearance if he had not looked so furious. Seized by panic, Rosetta ran down the steps but Billy caught up with her before she could reach the door to Lottie’s house, grabbing her by the arm, his fingers digging into her flesh.

‘What the bloody hell d’you think you’re doing, Rose?’

‘Let me go.’

‘You’re coming home with me.’

‘You can’t make me.’

‘You’re my wife. You’ve got a baby at home, crying for her mummy.’

Realising that a small crowd had gathered on the pavement at the bottom of the steps, Rosetta stopped struggling. ‘You’re making a show of me. Shut up, Billy.’

The sash window directly above them flew up with a bang and Lottie stuck her head out. ‘Get inside and stop that noise. You’re bad for business.’

‘Do as she says,’ Billy said, through clenched teeth. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet.’

Sly met them in the hall, his sleeves rolled up and a scowl on his face. ‘What’s going on?’

‘You keep out of this,’ Billy roared. ‘Now, Rose, are you going to tell me what this is all about?’

Shaking off his hand, Rosetta backed away from him. ‘I’ve left you, Billy. Can’t you get that into your thick head?’

‘Why, Rose?’ His angry expression fading, Billy held his hands out to her. ‘I done everything I could for you. I’ve tried to make you happy.’

‘Take her home and give her a good hiding,’ Sly said, taking a packet of Woods from his pocket. ‘We ain’t running a charity institution. She can’t stay here.’

Rosetta turned on him. ‘Aunt Lottie says I can stay. I’ve got money and a job. I ain’t asking for charity.’

Appearing at the top of the stairs, looking like a spectre in her white nightgown with her hair flying about her head in a nimbus cloud, Lottie clutched the banisters. ‘Don’t be a fool, Sly. She’s working for Jonas.’

‘What?’ Billy’s voice echoed off the high ceiling. ‘You never. Tell me you didn’t go crawling to that crooked bastard.’

‘I never crawled to no one in me life,’ Rosetta said, drawing herself up to her full height. ‘You watch your tongue, Billy Noakes. I got me a proper job, entertaining in Mr Crowe’s gambling club, which is all legal and above board now.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ Billy said, heading for the door. ‘I’ll have it out with Crowe and put a stop to that lark straight away.’

Running after him, Rosetta caught him by the sleeve. ‘If you do that, Billy, we’re finished for ever.’

Breathing heavily, his faced flushed beneath the white film of flour, Billy’s shoulders sagged as if she had punched him in the stomach. ‘Have it your own way for now, but this ain’t the end of it, Rose.’ He stamped out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

The premises had changed beyond recognition. Rosetta had only been in the gaming room once, when Jonas had invited everyone back after Poppa’s funeral, but now it looked quite
different. Huge mahogany chiffoniers, set with crystal decanters on silver trays, had replaced the taproom bar. Card tables were set about the room surrounded by button-back, leather chairs. The garish red and gold walls had been stripped and hung with more subtle art nouveau wallpaper and deep-pile carpet concealed the floorboards. The downstairs room, that had been the meeting place for punters and tarts, was now a smart salon where the wives of respectable merchants, lawyers and bankers could meet, have supper and be entertained. Far from entertaining the gentlemen upstairs, Rosetta found herself in the salon with the ladies, competing with the rising volume of female voices, so that more often than not her singing went completely unheard. Risqué music hall songs were out and her new audience demanded sentimental ballads. Accompanied by a pianist and a fiddler, Rosetta sang until the fog of cigarette smoke made her cough and her throat went dry. This was not how she had imagined it to be and, worst of all, she saw very little of Jonas. Even though she was working until the early hours of the morning, he refused to allow her to sleep in Ruby’s old room. Rosetta slept alone in one of Lottie’s better rooms, for which she paid a grossly inflated rent. When she awakened in the middle of the day she had only to go next door, but no matter what time she arrived Jonas always seemed to be out. When questioned, Tucker was
always vague, saying that Mr Jonas had business in the City. Whatever the business matters were, it seemed that they were extremely profitable. The house reverberated to the sound of workmen, chipping, sawing, plastering and painting. The smell of turpentine and gloss paint cancelled out the odours of stale tobacco and alcohol. The below stairs servants were no longer slatternly in their dress and casual in their manner. They wore neat uniforms and their faces and fingernails were clean, inspected daily by a new housekeeper who disciplined and drilled them with the vigour of a sergeant major.

Rosetta came and went much as she pleased and Jonas paid her well, but none of this made up for the fact that he was completely indifferent to her. He was always polite and treated her like a real lady but that was not at all what she wanted. She wanted him to notice her, to look at her with that sparkle of desire that came into most men’s eyes when they met her. She wanted Jonas to listen to her, to value her opinion and to realise how much she could help him improve his business. She had achieved her independence but, if she couldn’t make Jonas love her as she loved him, then she had nothing.

Lottie was unsympathetic, more interested in the gin bottle than in Rosetta’s heartache. She told Rosetta bluntly that she had been a fool to fall in love with Jonas. If you wanted to stay
ahead of the game then you didn’t let your emotions become involved. You made men think they were in love with you, but you kept your heart locked in a hard little shell so that when the affair ended you did not get hurt. If she couldn’t do that then she would be better off at home, working alongside Billy in the bakery.

Sly tolerated her presence but never failed to make sarcastic comments on her failure to restore his business link with Jonas. Depressed, and lonely for the first time in her life, Rosetta lavished money on clothes and trinkets but, after a while, even the thrill of spending began to pall. After his initial visit, Billy had not come near her again, and Rosetta dared not go home, either to the bakery or Tobacco Court. She could not face the anger and disappointment that she knew she must expect from Mum and Granny. Martha wouldn’t know her and Billy probably hated her, and with good reason. If only Ruby was here, she thought miserably. Why had Ruby had to go off to that stupid war in Africa? Ruby was the one and only person who would understand. Everything else paled into nothing compared to the separation from her sister.

Closing her umbrella, Rosetta stepped inside the entrance hall almost tripping over a plank and a large pot of paint. Apologising profusely, a workman scooped up the offending items and
scuttled off towards the back of the house, doffing his cap to Jonas who had just come from the direction of his office. As usual, the mere sight of him sent Rosetta’s pulses racing; she thought he was going to walk past her, but he stopped, looking thoughtfully at a rolled copy of
The Times
in his hand.

‘This war with the Boers has gone on far longer than anyone thought it would. You must be worried about your sister.’

‘Good morning, Jonas.’

‘You’re soaking wet. You won’t be able to sing if you catch cold.’

‘I wouldn’t be soaked to the skin if you let me have Ruby’s old room.’

Jonas hesitated, eyebrows raised. ‘Aren’t you comfortable living with Lottie?’

‘I can’t see why you won’t let me use me sister’s room. Ruby wouldn’t mind.’

‘The papers are full of this business at Mafeking coming so soon after Ladysmith. Have you heard anything from Ruby?’

Something inside Rosetta’s head seemed to snap like overstretched elastic. ‘Why are you so interested in what Ruby is doing? What is she to you?’

‘That’s none of your business.’

Jonas made to leave but Rosetta grabbed him by the coat sleeve. ‘It is my business. You are my business.’

Turning on her, Jonas stared into her eyes, his expression guarded. ‘You just work for me, Rosetta. I pay your wages, don’t forget that.’

‘I work for you because I love you,’ Rosetta cried, seizing his hand and pressing it to her cheek. ‘Can’t you understand that, Jonas? I love you.’

‘You don’t love me,’ Jonas said, snatching his hand free. ‘You don’t even know me.’

‘I do. I do know you. You’re strong and you’re powerful. People look up to you. You need a woman like me to stand by your side and …’

‘No!’ Gripping Rosetta by the shoulders Jonas shook her. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. Go back to your husband and child, Rosetta. Go back to the family who love you.’

‘But I love you.’

‘Then I’m sorry for you.’ Jonas walked towards the door but Rosetta ran after him, barring his way.

‘I’ve never begged anyone for nothing, not in me whole life, but I’m begging you to give me a chance. I could be really good to you. You might even grow to love me, Jonas.’

‘Not in a million years, my dear. My worthless black heart belongs to someone else.’

‘Who?’ Rosetta heard her voice rise to a scream. ‘I’ll scratch her eyes out.’

‘It would be a wasted effort; the lady is pledged to another man.’

Feeling as though the air was being sucked out of her lungs, Rosetta clasped her hand to her chest. ‘You don’t mean … You can’t mean …’

‘I’m sorry, Rosetta, but I love your sister and have done right from the beginning. Impossible though it may be, I love Ruby.’ Lifting Rosetta bodily out of the way, Jonas slammed out of the house.

Aware that the workmen were hanging off their ladders enjoying the spectacle, Rosetta fumbled blindly with the latch, opened the door and ran down the steps just in time to see Jonas hail a passing cab.

‘Jonas, come back. Come back.’ With tears streaming down her cheeks, Rosetta ran alongside the cab until it picked up enough speed to leave her standing on the pavement, panting and sobbing. Aware of the curious looks from passers-by, Rosetta gulped and sniffed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. The sun had chased the rain clouds away and the pavements sparkled, wet and clean after the heavy shower. There was the hint of spring in the air but to Rosetta it was icy midwinter. Shivering, and with her teeth chattering, she wrapped her arms around her body. Jonas loves Ruby, she thought, catching her breath on a sob. He loves Ruby and not me. Jonas loves Ruby and I hate her. No, I don’t, Rosetta thought miserably; I hate myself for being such an idiot. I should have realised
when Jonas came looking for her that it was Ruby he wanted all along. I’ve been a blind, stupid fool, yearning after a man who never gave me a second look, and turning my back on the one who truly loved me. Billy must hate me now, but he can’t hate me more than I hate myself.

Standing in the middle of the pavement, hugging herself and crying, Rosetta felt as if the whole world was collapsing around her. What would she do now? Where would she go? Her golden dream of love and life with Jonas had burst like a soap bubble, leaving her with nothing except pain and humiliation. Hunching her shoulders, she put her head down and began the long walk home to Tobacco Court and Mum.

‘Rose!’ Sarah dropped the basket of washing that she was carrying and rushed over to Rosetta, flinging her arms around her. ‘Oh, Rose, thank God you’ve come home.’

Rosetta had expected a cool reception, but there was something in her mother’s expression that terrified her. Cold fingers of fear ran up and down her spine.

‘What’s happened, Mum?’

‘Not that you’d care,’ snorted Granny.

‘Shut up, Ma,’ Sarah said, tears spurting from her red-rimmed eyes. ‘This ain’t no time for family feuds.’

‘You’re frightening me,’ Rosetta cried, grasping Sarah’s work-worn hands.

‘Joe’s dead.’ Granny Mole spat the words out like pips stuck between her teeth. ‘Killed defending Ladysmith, and your sister’s gone down with the typhoid.’

Rosetta’s knees gave way beneath her and she sank down onto the nearest chair. ‘No! I don’t believe it. There’s got to be some mistake.’

Curling her fingers round Rosetta’s cold hands, Sarah sat on the seat next to her. ‘He died a hero, Rose. My bad boy ended up a hero. Wouldn’t he have had a laugh about that?’ Sarah’s voice broke on a sob.

Slipping her arms round her mother’s shaking shoulders, Rosetta held her close. ‘Why didn’t anyone tell me? I would have come at once.’

‘Because you’re a selfish little cow,’ Granny said, heaving herself up from her chair by the fire. ‘You left your husband and baby and went off to live with that old soak Lottie. You don’t have no thought for no one until you’re in trouble yourself.’

‘That’s not fair, Ma,’ Sarah said, wiping her eyes on her hankie. ‘Rosetta’s here now, ain’t she?’

‘Probably got herself into trouble again,’ Granny muttered, heading for the stairs. ‘I’m going for me nap.’ Her heavy tread made the stairs creak and groan in protest as she hauled
herself up to her room, slamming the door behind her.

BOOK: The Dollmaker's Daughters
2.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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