Читать книгу The Christmas Rose: The most heart-warming novel of 2018, from the Sunday Times bestseller - Dilly Court, Dilly Court - Страница 12

Rose came to a sudden halt at the sight of the man who ruled the lives of the women in his house, and was about to turn and run when he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her inside.

‘Cora is a poor liar,’ he said, pressing Rose up against the damp wall. ‘She told me you’d gone, but Nat Regan is nobody’s fool.’

‘I won’t be here much longer. I can pay rent.’

Regan curled his lip. ‘Only girls who work for me are allowed to live here, sweetheart. I got plenty of clients who would pay good money for your favours.’ He glanced at the newspaper she was clutching to her chest. ‘And you can read, too. I ain’t sure that’s a good thing.’

‘Let me go.’ Rose glared at him, too angry now to feel fear. ‘I’m leaving today.’

He pinned her to the wall with surprising strength for a small man. ‘That’s up to me. This is my place and what I says goes.’

‘I’ve got a job, Regan,’ she said boldly. ‘I’m a reporter on this newspaper, and if you don’t get out of my way you’ll find yourself headline news in the next edition.’ It was a vain boast, but it had the desired effect and Regan released her, taking a step backwards.

‘You’re lying, you little bitch.’

Rose leafed through the newspaper, searching desperately for the article that bore her name. She found it, even though it was tucked away beneath a list of other social events. The print was small, but her name was there and she waved it under his nose. ‘There’s the proof in black and white. And if you don’t let me go I’ll be late for the office.’

Regan stared at her in disbelief, his mouth working silently. Rose seized the moment and slipped past him. She raced down the steps and kept running until she was out of breath and had to stop and take shelter in a doorway. One thing was for certain: remaining in Black Raven Court was not an option. Thanks to her bragging, Regan knew her name and where she was working. She had made a tactical error, but the main thing now was to get to the office on time.

Nicholls was already at his desk and he looked up, his expression hardening when he spotted Rose. ‘You’re late again, Munday.’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Nicholls. I was unexpectedly delayed.’

‘No matter what Mr Sheldon says, I’m the head clerk, and, if you’re late again or you don’t do as I tell you, I’ll report you to Mr Radley.’

‘Yes, Mr Nicholls.’ Rose decided that arguing with Nicholls was a waste of time and she forced herself to answer meekly.

‘Get to work, Munday,’ Nicholls snapped. ‘Your days are numbered, so make the most of your five minutes of glory.’

Rose could hear the two more junior clerks sniggering, but she ignored them as she marched into Eugene’s office, resisting the temptation to slam the door. They were determined to make her life as difficult as possible, but Eugene had given her a chance to prove herself and she had no intention of letting him down. That aside, her most pressing problem was where she would sleep that night, and how she would retrieve her things from the boxroom in Black Raven Court. It was fortunate that the clothes given to her by Cecilia were still in Tavistock Square, waiting until she had found more permanent accommodation.

Rose sat down in front of the typewriter, running her fingers over the keys. The night before last she had felt proud and elated when Eugene allowed her to write her piece about the theatre, and seeing her name in print for the first time was undoubtedly a thrill, but working in a man’s world was going to be an uphill struggle. She took a sheet of paper and inserted it in the machine. There was work that Eugene had left for her and it must be done; even so, she was finding it hard to concentrate, and she was still sitting there when he breezed into the office half an hour later.

‘What’s the matter with you, Munday?’ he demanded. ‘I thought you would be beaming all over your face this morning.’

‘I’ve got a bit of a problem, Guvnor.’

Eugene made to throw his hat onto the stand, but seemed to think better of it and placed it on a chair together with his overcoat and scarf. ‘Anything I can help with?’

‘I have to find somewhere else to stay.’

‘I could have told you that living in a house of ill repute was not the best address for a budding reporter. However, joking aside, I agree with you wholeheartedly.’

‘I bumped into Regan again and he’s being difficult.’

Eugene took his seat behind his desk. ‘I imagine that’s putting it mildly. I suppose he wants you to join his happy band of workers.’

‘That’s it exactly, and I daren’t go back to collect my things in case he sees me. Besides which, I’ve nowhere to go.’

He turned his head to give her a long look. ‘Then you must stay with us in Tavistock Square, and I’ll try to find out if those men have the legal right to be in the Captain’s House.’

‘Thank you, Guvnor. But your sister might object to having me as a guest, even for a short time.’

‘Cissie? Why would she? My sister isn’t a bad sort when you get to know her, Munday. Her main problem is ennui. Cissie is an intelligent woman and she hasn’t got enough to occupy her mind. She doesn’t particularly enjoy balls and soirées, and, in my opinion, she needs a cause to fight for. You might find you have a lot in common.’

‘Maybe,’ Rose said doubtfully. ‘She’s been very kind to me, but I don’t want to foist myself on her.’

‘I don’t think Cissie will have any objections to you staying with us until you find something more suitable. You seemed to get on quite well at the theatre.’

‘She did invite me to join her when she has luncheon with Maria Barnaby. Maria is half-sister to Max Manning, my fiancé.’

‘There you are then. Maria might be able to give you some information, so stop worrying and type out that article I gave you yesterday. You’re still an office junior, Munday, so get back to work.’ Eugene tempered his words with a smile. ‘And don’t worry about your possessions. I’ll come with you when we finish work this evening. I’d enjoy sorting Regan out.’

Rose shot him a sideways glance. ‘You’d take him on?’

‘I can handle myself in a fight. You’d be surprised.’

It was dark when they arrived in Black Raven Court and Rose was nervous. It was not only feral cats that lurked in doorways and down dark alleys. There was danger in the back streets even in daytime, but when the shadows deepened after dusk it was a brave person who walked there alone. Rose had learned this much already, and she kept watch while Eugene marched up to the front door. He turned to her and beckoned.

‘It’s not locked – the girls are obviously expecting to do a good trade tonight. Come on.’

Rose hesitated on the bottom step. ‘Maybe it would be best if you keep watch outside. I’m used to creeping up the stairs.’

‘All right. Go ahead, but be quick.’

Rose entered the house on tiptoe. The nauseating smell of unwashed bodies, damp rot, cheap perfume and tobacco smoke hit her with almost physical force. The familiar sounds of laughter and creaking bed springs were punctuated by raised voices and the occasional scream. Rose broke into a run, taking the stairs two at a time, but in her haste she trod on the step that everyone tried to avoid and the loud creak brought Cora to her door.

‘Blooming hell, Rose. You gave me a fright – I thought it was Regan come to collect the rent.’ Cora took a drag on a cheroot and then stamped it out under the heel of her boot.

‘I’m sorry,’ Rose whispered. ‘I’ve come to collect my bag. I’m moving out.’

‘Good for you, nipper. I wish I could do the same.’

‘What keeps you here? Haven’t you got any family who would take you in?’

Cora gave her a pitying look. ‘You might have good people waiting for you, but some of us ain’t so lucky. My pa is in the clink and Ma only wants to see me if I give her money for gin. Go on, kid. Grab your things and make a run for it before his nibs turns up. Flossie says he’s got his eye on you, so don’t hang about.’

‘I will, and thanks, Cora. I’ll miss you and Flossie, will you tell her that for me?’

Cora nodded emphatically. ‘Good luck, kid.’ She retreated into her room, and closed the door.

Rose hurried up the second flight of stairs and collected her things, but as she made her way downstairs she heard a door open and Regan’s loud voice berating one of the girls. It was dark on the landing, but peering through the banisters she could see him standing in a shaft of light. He was shaking his fist and using foul language that would have made the toughest gold prospector blush. Rose shrank into the shadows, hoping that he would visit another of the rooms on the ground floor, and she sighed with relief when she heard the sound of his booted feet stamping towards the back of the house. She hurtled down the remaining stairs and out into the cold night, almost falling into Eugene’s arms as he waited for her.

‘You’d think the devil was after you,’ he said, relieving her of the heavy valise. ‘Come on Rose, let’s go home.’

Cecilia was not over-effusive, but she made Rose welcome and sent a maid to light a fire in one of the many bedrooms. Giddings relieved Rose of her outer garments and she could feel his silent disapproval, but she smiled and nodded graciously, taking Cecilia as her model for ladylike behaviour as she handed him her valise. If this was how a lady was expected to behave she could do it with ease, even if she had to resist the temptation to tell the footman that she might be poor, but she was just as good as him, and she did not judge people by outward appearances.

‘I’ve got some correspondence to deal with. I’ll be in the study.’ Eugene hurried off without giving his sister a chance to object.

‘Come with me, Rose,’ Cecilia said calmly. ‘We’ll wait for Gene in the drawing room.’ She led the way up the gracefully curving sweep of the staircase to the crimson and gold drawing room, where she motioned Rose to take a seat.