Gulping a mouthful of champagne, Ruby’s eyes watered as the bubbles went up her nose. She managed a smile and a nod, wishing that someone had warned her that ‘pleased to meet you’ wasn’t the proper greeting amongst the toffs. No wonder some of the fusty old matrons had looked down their beaky noses at her.
‘Ruby has borne it all like a real trouper,’ Pamela said, sipping her champagne. ‘I simply can’t think of anything worse than having to meet all my ghastly relations in one go, let alone yours, Adam.’
Pulling a face, Adam grinned. ‘I know, but one
has to do these things. We’d better circulate a bit, Pam. Will you be all right, Ruby?’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Ruby said, stifling a hiccup.
‘Just watch out for Uncle Bertie,’ Adam said, taking Pamela by the hand. ‘He’s a bit of a one with the ladies.’
‘Ta, but I think we already met.’ And I’ve got a bruise to prove it, Ruby thought, watching them walk away hand in hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Uncle Bertie advancing on her with a glass of whisky in his hand and a leering look on his face. Taking evasive action, Ruby ducked into the shrubbery, making her way between the bushes to a shady part of the garden where some of the older ladies sat on spindly gilt chairs, chatting to each other. She had successfully dodged Uncle Bertie but the only way out of the shrubbery would bring her into the middle of the ladies’ circle. Hardly daring to breathe, Ruby waited, hoping that Uncle Bertie would tire of looking for her and walk away.
‘We’re so lucky with the weather, Joan.’ Ruby recognised Mrs Chadwick’s clipped tones.
‘You know what they say about the sun shining on the righteous, Blanche.’
That sounded like Mrs Fairfax, Ruby thought. Adam’s mother had given her a very hard stare when they were introduced. She longed to get away but she could still see Uncle Bertie waiting
and watching, like a fat black spider in the middle of his web. Ruby prayed that he would finish his drink and go to the marquee for a refill.
‘I’m so looking forward to having Adam as a son-in-law.’
‘And I’m just relieved that Adam had the good sense to pick a lovely girl like Pamela. I shudder to think that he could have fallen for someone like the common little girl from the hospital that they insisted on inviting. She may have a pretty face but when she opens her mouth she speaks like a costermonger.’
‘I feel quite sorry for her, Joan. She must feel terribly out of place.’
‘Not that sort, my dear. Have you stopped to wonder how a girl like that would be able to afford such an outfit unless she were – you know, up to no good? You’d better have a quiet word with Pam, warn her not to get too friendly. Even the most upright men can give in to that sort of temptation.’
Stuffing her hand into her mouth to stop herself from crying out in protest, Ruby picked up her skirts and ran, barging into Uncle Bertie and knocking him off balance. Racing through the house, she pushed past an astonished maid, sending a tray of glasses flying. Wrenching the front door open, Ruby stumbled out onto the tiled path and ran.
Unable to sleep for the heat, the sound of Granny Mole’s snoring and the baby kicking her in the ribs, Rosetta got up and went downstairs to the living room. The first hint of the summer dawn was streaking the sky above the houses across the street, and Rosetta went to sit by the window, opening it to try to get a little air into the stuffy room. This was the dawn of her wedding day, a day that was supposed to be happy and special and she was going to be a radiant bride: but that was so untrue that it made her want to cry. Leaning her hot forehead against the cool glass of the windowpane, Rosetta closed her eyes, thinking back to the events that had brought her to this sorry state.
But if she were honest, she had to admit that there was no one to blame but herself. She had gone willingly with Billy that dreadful night when she had left home rather than go to live with the Moles until her baby was born. She remembered every incident clearly, from the moment when she had opened her eyes, staring up at the rafters in the unfamiliar stable loft that was Billy’s home …
Rosetta sat up in bed – Billy’s bed. Her stomach churned and the now familiar wave of nausea made her retch. ‘Billy?’
The room, which was little more than a stable loft, was empty. The bed was narrow, just big enough for a single person; wherever Billy had slept it had not been at her side. Rosetta sank back onto the pillow, closing her eyes, waiting for the sick feeling to subside. Now the memories came flooding back to her, the angry scenes with Aunt Lottie and Alf and the final indignity when Uncle Sly had turned her out of the house in Raven Street. She could still hear the disappointment and disapproval in her mother’s voice and Granny Mole’s uncompromising condemnation of her behaviour. If Billy hadn’t taken her in she would have had to sleep in a doorway or worse. One moment she had been Miss Rosetta, up and coming star of the Falstaff Music Hall, and now she was pregnant, homeless, sleeping on a truckle bed in a spider-filled loft, and even Billy had deserted her. Scalding tears forced themselves between her closed eyelids and trickled down her cheeks.
‘Hey, hey, what’s all this?’
Opening her eyes with a start, Rosetta saw Billy standing beside the bed, his face puckered in concern.
‘I don’t feel well, Billy.’
‘You just need some grub inside you, girl,’ Billy said, waving a package wrapped in newspaper in front of her nose. ‘Breakfast, that’s what you need. A bacon doorstep and a cuppa will set you up a treat.’
Rosetta turned her head away. ‘I told you, I feel sick. I can’t eat.’
‘Suit yourself, then,’ Billy said, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table.
Sneaking a peek at him, Rosetta’s mouth watered as she watched him unwrap two doorstep sandwiches, taking a bite out of one as he poured tea from a tin pail into two mugs. The smell of bacon and hot tea was too much for her. She sat up. ‘Maybe just a cup of tea.’
Billy spooned sugar into one of the mugs and handed it to her. ‘That’s the ticket.’
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Rosetta sipped the tea, and as the sick feeling began to pass she realised that she was starving. Reaching out, she snatched a sandwich and bit into the thick wodge of bread, marge and crispy bacon.
‘That’s right,’ Billy said, nodding in approval. ‘You got to eat for two now.’
Rosetta swallowed a mouthful. ‘Not for long. Don’t think I’m going through with this, Billy. I’m going to get meself fixed up.’
Dropping his sandwich, Billy leapt to his feet and grabbed her by the arm, his face dark with
fury. ‘Don’t you never say such a thing again, Rose. Don’t you even think about doing something so bloody stupid.’
‘Let me go. It ain’t nothing to do with you.’
Billy tightened his grip. ‘Now you listen to me, Rosetta. You go to one of them back street butchers and you’ll end up dead. I know, because I seen it happen to someone I cared about.’
‘Was you the father?’
‘No, but the girl was me sister. I watched her die and there weren’t nothing that anyone could do to save her.’
‘I’m sorry, of course I am, really sorry, but that don’t give you the right to tell me what to do.’
Taking her by the shoulders, Billy shook her hard. ‘It is my business because I’m going to take care of you and the nipper. We’re going to get spliced all legal and proper – unless you got any objections, that is.’
It was not the most romantic of proposals. Looking into Billy’s eyes, Rosetta saw that he was in deadly earnest, and although her instant reaction was to refuse him, she could not think of one single reason why she should not accept.
‘So what d’you say, Rose? Will you marry me?’
Rosetta shrugged her shoulders. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’
Billy wrapped her in his arms, his mouth seeking hers in a long, slow kiss. Recoiling at
first, with the memory of Alf’s beery breath and wet mouth still uppermost in her mind, Rosetta found to her astonishment that Billy’s kiss was something quite different. His lips were firm, teasing and yet tender, patient and yet demanding. He slid his fingers through her hair, holding her head so that she could not escape, and to Rosetta’s surprise she found that she did not want to. Sliding her arms around his neck, she relaxed against his firm young body, parting her lips with a sigh.
‘I love you, Rose.’
Billy’s mouth was hot on her neck, kissing the column of her throat while his hands caressed her breasts. She could feel the buttons of her blouse popping open beneath his eager fingers and the cold air chilled her naked flesh. Suddenly it was not Billy but Alf who was kissing her with mounting desire; it was Alf and not Billy who slid his hand beneath her skirt, feeling for the private place between her legs. Wild with panic, Rosetta pushed him away. ‘No. No. I can’t.’
Sitting back and running his hand through his hair with a perplexed frown, Billy stared at her then he smiled ruefully, shaking his head. ‘You’re right, Rose. This ain’t going to be a hole in the corner affair. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before but we’ll do it proper and wait until we’re legally wed.’ Getting to his feet, he picked up her blouse from the floor where it
had fallen in a crumpled heap and laid it on the bed beside her. ‘Get dressed, ducks. We’re going round to see your mum.’
Once again, Rosetta felt as though her life was being taken away from her and organised by those about her, as though she were a child without a say in her future. Mum and Granny Mole wholeheartedly supported Billy’s intention to make an honest woman of her. Sitting in her mother’s cramped living room, unable to get a word in edgeways as Mum and Billy made arrangements for the wedding with Granny Mole throwing in her usual unhelpful remarks, Rosetta was beginning to feel as though she must be invisible. It was decided that Lottie should be made to pay for the whole thing, since she was always so keen to show off and it was all her fault anyway. Granny Mole said it was not to be one of them Roman Catholic dos with Father Brennan insisting that the nipper had to be brought up in the Faith like it had been when Sarah and Aldo were married. Billy said he didn’t mind if the ceremony was conducted by a witch doctor, so long as it was legal. No one bothered to ask Rosetta what she wanted, and before she had time to protest, Sarah had decided that she would go and see the local vicar and then sort the rest out with Lottie. Of course it had to be done quickly, before Rosetta began to show; after all,
there were plenty of seven-month babies in Tobacco Court, which was quite respectable, not like them in Spivey Street who dropped babies like litters of puppies, never knowing who had fathered them. Naturally, Rosetta would need a new dress, and again Lottie would have to pay. Granny Mole and Sarah, once started on a theme, were as unstoppable as the Thames at flood tide.
‘I got business to do,’ Billy said, winking at Rosetta and backing towards the door. ‘Can’t hang about now I’ve got a family to support.’
Rosetta got up, intending to follow him.
‘And where are you going, Rose?’ Sarah turned on her with a fierce frown.
‘With Billy, Mum.’
‘Sit down,’ Sarah said, wagging her finger. ‘There’ll be none of that there until you’re married.’
‘But, Mum …’
‘No,’ Billy said, hooking his arm around Rosetta’s shoulders. ‘Your mum’s right, ducks. Anyway, my place ain’t fit for you to stay in. You’ll be better off here.’
‘That’s right,’ Sarah said. ‘And when you’ve tied the knot you’ll both live here. I’ll move in with Ma and Elsie and you two can have the bed that me and Aldo shared for thirty years.’
‘What?’ Rosetta heard her voice rise to a shriek. ‘Don’t I get no say in all this?’
‘No,’ Granny Mole said, pointing a finger at
her. ‘Girls what ain’t no better than they should be get what they deserve.’
Rosetta turned to Billy, who was already halfway out of the door. ‘Billy!’
‘Don’t worry, love. It’ll all come right. Trust Billy Noakes.’
The door closed behind him. Rosetta turned on her mother. ‘I’ll not be treated like this.’
‘There’s always the workhouse,’ Granny Mole said darkly.
‘Think yourself lucky that you’ve got a decent bloke what’s prepared to take on another man’s bastard,’ Sarah said, snatching up her shawl and bonnet. ‘I’m going to have it out with Lottie and you, miss, can stay here and make a bit of dinner for your gran.’
‘I’m not a skivvy,’ Rosetta said, tossing her head. ‘Where’s Elsie? Ain’t that her job?’
‘Elsie went out early delivering the clean washing and she’ll be bringing back the soiled things. She’s been a good help to me, Rose, and when the baby comes she can look after it while you go out and get yourself a proper job. We’ll have no more of that theatrical nonsense.’ Slipping her shawl over her shoulders, Sarah marched out of the house, closing the door with an emphatic bang.
‘Prancing about on the stage,’ Granny Mole said, glowering. ‘Just look where it’s got you.’
Struggling to hold back a torrent of harsh
words, Rosetta snatched up her jacket and slammed out of the house. Let the old witch get her own dinner.
Ruby! Rosetta’s first thought was to find her sister. She arrived at the hospital hot and breathless, desperate to see Ruby and quite unprepared for the cold reception she received from the senior nursing sister. No matter how much she pleaded and wheedled, Rosetta came up against a solid wall of officialdom. Probationer nurses were not allowed visitors during working hours and Nurse Capretti was not due off duty until nine o’clock in the evening. Personal matters must be conducted out of the hospital and on her own time. Determined not to go home, Rosetta walked back to Billy’s place and, finding the door locked, she sat down on an upturned bucket in the empty stable, waiting for him to return.
She had lost count of time, but it seemed as though she had been sitting in the smelly stable for hours. Getting to her feet, Rosetta paced the floor, raging inwardly at the stroke of misfortune that had brought her to this. Just a couple of days ago she had been heading for stardom in the theatre, earning good money and independent of her family, and now she felt as though her life had come to an abrupt end. She could imagine no worse punishment for her folly than having to live back at home, with Mum, Gran and Elsie, not
to mention Billy and the baby, with the daunting prospect of yearly pregnancies to follow. Never had the future looked so bleak.