Authors: Dilly Court
She reached Emmie’s house just as the clock on a nearby church tower struck eleven.
She
rapped on the gleaming brass doorknocker and waited. Moments later the door was opened by the young maidservant wearing a print dress and a starched white apron both of which were two sizes too large for her small frame. She pushed her mobcap back off her face and peered up at Irene with a disdainful expression that sat oddly on her young face. ‘Tradesmen’s entrance round the back.’ She went to shut the door but Irene put her foot over the sill.
‘I’m not selling anything, you silly girl. I’ve come to see my sister.’
‘You’ve got the wrong house then.’
‘Let me in at once. You know very well that I’m Mrs Tippet’s sister.’
The girl did not look impressed. She tossed her head so that her mobcap slid down over her eyes again. She pushed it back with an irritable shrug. ‘I don’t remember you. I told you once and I’ll not say it again. Tradesmen’s entrance round the back.’
Irene put her shoulder to the door, sending the girl sprawling onto her back where she lay kicking her legs in the air and screeching. Irene stepped inside and was about to help the maid to her feet when the sound of heavy footsteps on the staircase made her pause and look up. Ephraim was bearing down on them with his sandy eyebrows drawn together so that they
met
over the bridge of his bulbous nose. He came to a halt and a look of recognition dawned on his pudgy face. ‘Miss Angel, Irene, this is a pleasant surprise.’
Irene heaved the maid to her feet and gave her a shake. ‘There now, you see, girl. Mr Ephraim recognises me.’
‘Go about your work, Jessie,’ Ephraim said, scowling.
‘I didn’t know who she was,’ Jessie muttered, backing away from him. ‘She don’t look like the missis, and she don’t dress like her neither.’
Ephraim raised his hand as if to strike her, and Jessie fled with a howl of fright. ‘Emily should have sent that girl back to the workhouse,’ he grumbled. ‘She’s not right in the head.’
‘It wasn’t really her fault,’ Irene said hastily. ‘She’s only seen me once before and Emmie’s much prettier than me. Since she married your dad she’s always turned out like a duchess and I’m not exactly a fashion plate.’
‘My stepmother pays altogether too much attention to fashion, and not enough to the smooth running of the household. You, on the other hand, appear to be a sensible, hardworking young woman with her mind on higher matters altogether.’
His censorious and pompous attitude irritated
Irene
, but she forced her lips into a semblance of a smile. ‘And how are you today, Ephraim?’
‘I am well, thank you.’ He cleared his throat, staring at her with his mouth working as if he were trying to speak but could not find the words.
‘I’ve come to see Ma and Emmie,’ Irene prompted. ‘Are they at home?’
He nodded his head. ‘Of course you want to see them. It’s only natural.’ He continued to stand in front of her, gazing at her with an unreadable expression in his dark eyes that reminded Irene of black boot buttons.
‘Perhaps you could tell them I’m here?’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll do just that.’ He crossed the narrow hallway in two strides and opened a door. ‘If you would kindly wait in the morning parlour, I’ll go and find them for you.’
She walked past him into a large, sunny room that faced onto the street. It had undergone a complete refurbishment since Irene had first seen it on Emmie’s wedding day. She could only guess that the heavily patterned floral wallpaper, the crimson velvet curtains and the gleaming mahogany furniture upholstered in the same material had been chosen by her sister. Everything looked so new that she would not have been surprised to find the price tags still attached to the legs of the
ornately
carved chairs and sofas. The mantelshelf was crammed with china figurines, and an imposing black marble clock embellished with brass-topped Corinthian columns stood in the centre like a miniature cathedral. The contrast between this room and the poverty that lurked in the backstreets and alleyways was really quite shocking.
Irene turned with a start as the door opened and Ephraim ushered her mother into the room. ‘My stepmother is still in bed,’ he said, taking a gold watch from his waistcoat pocket and studying its face with raised eyebrows. ‘I’ll send Jessie to help her dress.’ He bowed out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Irene flung her arms around her mother’s neck. ‘I’ve missed you, Ma. How are you?’
Clara gave her a feeble hug. ‘Oh, Renie, I’ve missed you too.’
Gently disengaging her mother’s arms, Irene led her to the sofa. ‘Sit down, and tell me everything. Have they treated you well?’
‘I can’t complain, ducks. Emmie needs me and Josiah has been very considerate.’ Clara patted the seat beside her. ‘Sit down and tell me what’s been going on at home. I thought maybe Billy might come and see me. Is he all right?’
‘You know Pa,’ Irene said lightly. ‘He’s always
in
the best of health and nothing gets him down.’
‘He hasn’t complained then – about me leaving him to look after himself?’
‘I’m there, Ma. We’ve muddled along, but it’s not the same without you.’
‘And he’s kept away from the gaming tables?’
Irene hooked her arm around her mother’s shoulders and was shocked by her increasing fragility. ‘We haven’t starved yet, and Pa will be along to see you very soon.’
‘I hope so. I’ve got a feeling in me water that something is wrong. I know it’s silly and you’d tell me if things wasn’t going too well, but I can’t sleep at night for worrying about my Billy.’
‘It’s all in your imagination, Ma. Everything is fine. Business is brisk and all the regulars have been asking after you. If trade keeps on increasing like it is, we’ll need bigger premises.’
‘You’re lying, Renie. I can always tell, but just so long as you’re managing, I’ll try not to worry.’ Clara glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Emily who had just breezed into the room. ‘Hello, dear. Did you sleep well?’
‘Hardly a wink, Ma. Josiah snores like a pig and takes all the bedcovers for himself. I think I shall insist that he sleeps in his dressing room from now until the baby comes.’
‘You don’t look too bad on it,’ Irene said, chuckling. She couldn’t help noticing that Emmie had yet another new gown, and if she had slept badly it did not show on her face. She looked quite blooming, in fact. Irene rose to her feet, taking her sister aside. ‘I need to speak to you, in private.’
‘What are you whispering about?’ Clara demanded. ‘Are you sure you’ve told me everything, Renie?’
‘Quite sure, Ma. I was asking Emmie if I could see the nursery. You don’t mind if we leave you for a moment, do you?’
‘No, of course not, but don’t be too long.’
As soon as they were outside the room Irene turned to Emily, lowering her voice. ‘I don’t want this to get back to Ma. Promise you won’t say a word.’
Emily’s face paled and her pretty mouth turned down at the corners. ‘What’s wrong? Is it Pa again?’
‘He went off to Doncaster races and he hasn’t come back. I’ve had no word from him for days and Yapp is being difficult about money. He’s stopped our credit and I’m afraid I’ll have to close the shop.’
‘Oh, Gawd! Pa will be the ruin of us all. What will Josiah say?’
‘I don’t care what Josiah says, it’s Ma I’m worried about. If anything has happened to
Pa
she’ll never get over it. She don’t look too clever as it is. Have you been looking after her properly, Emmie?’
Emily bridled. ‘Of course I have. She’s got a lovely warm bed and three good meals a day. I can’t help it if she pines for Pa, and no one can stop her worrying about that blessed shop. She hardly ever talks about anything else and it’s so embarrassing when I have ladies round for afternoon tea.’
‘My, haven’t we become grand,’ Irene said, throwing up her hands. ‘You might stop thinking about yourself for once. Ma looks ill and I don’t think she believed me when I said everything was fine.’
‘Well, take a look in a mirror. You look a fright. No wonder Jessie thought you were a gypsy peddling her wares. She told me that Ephraim shouted at her, but I can see why she made such a mistake. You ought to take more pride in yourself, Renie. You can’t expect to find a husband if you go round looking like a sack of old potatoes.’ She paused, cocking her head to one side. ‘That sounds like the dog cart. I told Tompkins to oil the wheels; one of them squeaks and makes everyone turn round to stare at me.’
‘Perhaps they’re just admiring your smart new clothes,’ Irene suggested, smiling at her sister’s inability to think of anything unless it was in relation to herself.
Emily shot her a suspicious glance. ‘I know you’re teasing me.’ She pushed past Irene to study her reflection in a gilt-framed mirror that hung on the wall, and pinched her cheeks until they glowed with colour. ‘Josiah will be coming through that door any moment. Don’t mention a word of this to him. We’ll just have to hope that Pa gets home soon and that he hasn’t lost his shirt for the hundredth time.’ The sound of the key grating in the lock made them both turn towards the front door as it opened to admit Josiah. Emily seized Irene by the arm. ‘Remember what I said.’ She went to meet him with outstretched arms. ‘Josiah, my dear, look who has come to visit us.’
He took off his top hat and gloves, acknowledging Irene with a nod of his head as he planted a perfunctory kiss on Emmie’s cheek. ‘Yes, I see her. Good morning, Irene.’
‘Hello, Josiah. I hope you don’t mind my calling to see Ma?’
‘Not at all. I consider it to be the duty of a daughter to show concern for an ageing parent.’ He glanced over his shoulder at the young man who had come in after him and was standing in the open doorway staring at Irene with an appreciative smile on his face.
‘Shut the door, Erasmus,’ Josiah said testily. ‘I can feel the draught cutting through me like a knife. After kneeling on the marble floor in
that
cold church I can feel a sore throat coming on already.’
Emily clutched his arm. ‘Perhaps you had best spend the rest of the day in bed, Josiah?’
‘Don’t fuss, my dear.’ He turned to his son. ‘Well, boy? Are you going to stand there like a dummy or are you coming in to greet your stepmother’s sister?’
With exaggeratedly slow movements, Erasmus divested himself of his top hat, gloves and muffler and tossed them onto the hall stand. ‘Coming, Father.’
‘I wasn’t fussing,’ Emily murmured.
‘Come here,’ Josiah said, scowling at his son. ‘Where are your manners, boy? What have you to say to Miss Irene?’
Erasmus swept a mocking bow. ‘Do I call you Irene or Step-aunt?’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ Josiah thundered. ‘You are an oaf, Erasmus. An ill-mannered jackass. Your mother would turn in her grave if she could see what a sorry fellow you’ve turned out to be.’
‘A sorry fellow indeed,’ Erasmus said lightly. He took Irene’s hand and kissed it. ‘You know me, I think, Irene. I can never take anything seriously, especially when I am being lectured by my worthy father.’
‘Puppy!’ Josiah snorted. ‘I’ll be in my study until dinnertime.’ He moderated his tone.
His
dark eyes seemed to disappear into his cheeks as he turned to Irene with a ghost of a smile. ‘You will stay for luncheon? We eat at noon on Sundays.’
‘Thank you, but …’ A warning look from Emily made Irene hesitate. ‘Yes, thank you, Josiah.’
With a muffled grunt, Josiah strode off, disappearing into the depths of the ground floor.
Erasmus struck a pose. ‘There goes the worst-tempered man in London. Thank God I take after my sainted mother and not the old man.’
‘You shouldn’t tease him,’ Emily scolded. ‘You always get on his wrong side.’
‘The old fellow hasn’t got a good side as you’ll discover, Stepmother, when he stops being polite to you and shows his true colours.’
‘Don’t say things like that to Emmie,’ Irene said, frowning.
Emily tossed her head. ‘Oh, I don’t care. I take no notice of Erasmus; he’s just a silly boy.’
‘I’m five years older than you, dearest,’ Erasmus said, tweaking a stray curl that had escaped from the coils of Emily’s elaborate coiffure. ‘I’d say you’re wasted on the old goat, but then no one takes any notice of Erasmus Tippet, younger son and all that.’ He turned to Irene with a winning smile. ‘You and I are
disadvantaged
by our lack of seniority. My brother will inherit the business and you have been left to hold the fort, so to speak, while your father wastes his time on the gaming tables and your mother languishes in our magnificent but vulgar abode. Now I call that most unfair. What d’you think, Auntie?’
‘I think you have too much to say for yourself. My father is worth ten of you.’
‘I’m not staying here while you two bicker. I’m going to see if Ma wants anything.’ Emily swept into the parlour, leaving Irene alone in the hall with Erasmus.
He angled his head, his dark eyes teasing her. ‘Well, what shall we talk about now that my dear stepmother has left us?’
‘Talk to yourself,’ Irene said. ‘You seem to love yourself above all others. I hope you and yourself will be very happy together.’ She followed Emily into the morning room and closed the door, shutting him out.
Clara twisted round to give her a curious glance. ‘Who was that you were talking to, dear?’
‘It was Erasmus, Ma.’
‘That boy will be the death of me,’ Emily murmured. She slumped down on a brocaded chair by the fire and she tugged at the bell pull close by. ‘I need a cup of hot chocolate and a piece of Cook’s seed cake. Erasmus sends all
my
nerves into a jitter. He seems to enjoy aggravating my Josiah. One day he’ll go too far and Josiah will explode.’
Irene could not repress a smile. That was a sight she would love to see, but she would not dare say so in front of Emily.
‘It’s not funny,’ Emily scolded. ‘Ras should follow Ephraim’s example and show his father some respect. I do hope he will be on his best behaviour at the dinner table – I mean at luncheon. You know that in the best circles they have luncheon at midday, Renie, and dinner at night.’
‘And I suppose we must ape the gentry now that we’ve come up in the world.’