The Dollmaker's Daughters (20 page)

‘Let me go. I ain’t one of your street women.’ Ruby tried to get up, but he held her in an uncompromising grip. Panic seized her. ‘I think I heard Lily call.’

‘Lily’s taken enough laudanum to knock out the whole street,’ Jonas said, his smile fading and his eyes darkening. ‘Have you any idea what a desirable woman you are, Ruby?’

‘No, you’ve got the wrong sister. It’s Rosetta
that the men go for, not me,’ Ruby said, struggling to get free. ‘I’m the sensible one. I ain’t interested in you, Jonas Crowe. Now let me go.’

For a moment she thought he was going to release her, but his eyes held her in an almost hypnotic gaze; eyes so dark that they looked black and she felt that she was being drawn into them, drowning in their depths. Jonas stroked her cheek with one finger, sliding it down her neck. His hand was warm and moved seductively, tantalising, searching beneath her chemise, tugging at the thin cotton of her blouse and sending buttons flying in all directions. She tried to break away but his free hand moved swiftly behind her head, dragging her inexorably nearer until his mouth covered hers, devouring her with an urgency that sent her senses tumbling into a dizzying abyss. Dimly, Ruby felt the laces on her stays snap like cotton threads. The thin material of her blouse ripped as easily as tissue paper. All the while his mouth plundered hers and his hands moved expertly, cupping her breasts, caressing her taut stomach and entering the most secret, private place between her legs until a soft moan of pleasure escaped from her throat. This was not happening. A small voice in her head told her to fight, to bite, to scream, but even then she knew that resistance was useless. There was no one to hear her cries. And she did scream as he rose above
her, freeing her lips but entering her with a primeval force that sent shards of pain searing through her body. Suddenly and without her willing it, their bodies were moving together in a wild rhythm, culminating in a breathtaking sensation that sent her senses soaring like fireworks into a black-velvet night sky. She could hear a woman sobbing and moaning with animal pleasure. Ruby realised, as he withdrew from her body, that the voice was her own.

‘You got to get a job, Joe.’ Rosetta sat on the edge of her bed buttoning her boots. ‘Sly and Aunt Lottie would go barmy if they knew you was hiding in my room and I can’t keep on pinching food from the kitchen. Even young Elsie is getting suspicious and you know how daft she is.’

Huddled in the wooden rocking chair by the fire, Joe stretched and yawned. ‘Aw, come on, Rose. Don’t nag.’

‘Nag? I should throw you out on your arse,’ Rosetta said, jumping to her feet. ‘Look, I’m sorry you lost your apprenticeship but you got to admit that you asked for trouble.’

‘Me heart weren’t in it. I’m not cut out to work in a print shop.’

‘Well, I ain’t covering up for you no longer. You been here for over a week and if Aunt Lottie or Sly finds out we’ll both end up on the street. You got to get work and find a room of your own, or else come clean to Aunt Lottie and admit that you still owe Jonas money.’

‘Aw, Rosie, don’t go on at me. Ruby’s settled in next door looking after Lily and as long as she’s
there it keeps Crowe sweet. We got an agreement that so long as I don’t run up no more IOUs he won’t call in the debt.’

‘I dunno why you had to go and drag Ruby into it. I could’ve done better.’

‘You’d have ended up sitting on his lap and forgetting all about me,’ Joe said grinning. ‘Give us a break, love, and fetch us something to eat. I’m bloody starving and I haven’t had a bite since breakfast yesterday.’

Arms akimbo, Rosetta stared at him in disbelief. ‘I give you money for a pie or something. What did you do with it?’

‘It was a sure thing, that is until the nag fell at the last fence.’

‘I give up. You promised you’d stop gambling.’

‘I never said as much.’

‘You got a short memory, Joe. I seem to remember you snivelling and scared stiff what Jonas would do to you and feeling guilty because you sent Ruby to do your dirty work?’

‘Yes, but she’s landed on her feet, or so Tucker tells me.’

Rosetta stared at him in disbelief. ‘You mean you spend half your time round there and you ain’t even had the decency to see Ruby and make sure she’s all right?’

‘And get an ear bashing from her? No fear! She’d go mad if she found out that I still play the tables.’

‘And Jonas lets you?’

Joe shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s part of the deal, though Ruby don’t know nothing about it. He lets me play the tables and I keep an eye on the punters to see no one cheats or looks like winning too much and breaking the bank.’

‘I don’t understand. Why would Jonas do that, and how is Ruby a part of it?’

‘He’s making me work off me debts. He lends me the stake money every night, which I have to pay back. If I win a bit I keep it, but if I lose I’m in dead trouble. Honest, Rose, I might as well be in the clink. He only wants Ruby there so that he’s got a hold over me, but I don’t think he’d ever do her harm. He just talks tough to scare me into doing what he wants.’

‘So you end up doing what you like best – playing the tables – while Ruby is held hostage. You’re rotten, you are, Joe.’

Shrugging his shoulders, Joe flashed her a winning smile. ‘I never pretended to be a saint, Rose. But you’ve no need to worry about Ruby. She’s got it easy compared to me.’

‘And how d’you work that one out then?’

‘Ruby’s paid to look after Lily and that don’t amount to what I’d call hard work. She’s got a room all to herself and I hear that Jonas bought her a set of new togs that would make you turn pea-green with envy. You missed the boat there, you know.’

Incensed, Rosetta threw a pillow at him. ‘And I keep telling you I ain’t interested in Jonas Crowe. He can go to hell for all I care and if he don’t treat Ruby right, then I’ll go round there and scratch his eyes out. Which is what you should have done if you was a proper man.’

‘Me fingernails ain’t long enough,’ Joe said, laughing and demonstrating his fingernails bitten to the quick. ‘You can’t fool me, Rose. I saw you making sheep’s eyes at him during the wake. Anyway, I thought you wasn’t speaking to Ruby since she’s snatched your gentleman friend from beneath your nose?’

‘That’s right, we ain’t talking, but that don’t mean I don’t still love her and it don’t mean I’d let anyone harm a hair off her head.’

‘You ain’t as tough as you makes out, are you, Rosie?’

Tossing her head, Rosetta picked up her coat and hat. ‘I got a rehearsal to go to and you can find your own breakfast. If you ain’t out of my room by tonight, I’ll tell Sly. I mean it, Joe.’

Down in the basement kitchen, Rosetta found Mr Wilby finishing a bowl of porridge. Scraping his plate clean he jumped up, tipped his battered top hat in her direction and scuttled off like a green-tinged beetle.

Elsie came in from the scullery and picked up his empty plate. ‘Porridge is all gone,’ she said. ‘There’s bread in the crock.’

‘Where is Mr Silas?’ Taking a mug from the dresser, Rosetta filled it with tea. ‘Any milk?’

‘He took the missis’s breakfast upstairs and the milk is off.’ Elsie put the plate back on the table, apparently forgetting why she had picked it up in the first place, and began to sweep the flagstone floor with a besom. ‘I got so much work to do. I’ll get a thick ear if it ain’t done afore he comes downstairs.’

Rosetta wrinkled her nose as she sipped the strong, stewed tea. It was warm and wet and that was all you could say for it. ‘Tell me, Elsie. Why don’t I ever see any of the gents what lodges here, other than creepy Cyril Wilby that is?’

Elsie giggled. ‘You’d best not say that in front of him, miss.’

‘No, I’m not likely to be so daft. But you didn’t answer my question.’

Elsie dropped the broom and picked up the plate. ‘Oh, I got to get on. Got to get on. Oh dearie me.’ She ran into the scullery, slamming the door behind her.

Rosetta took another sip of tea. At first, she had not thought it strange that the only lodger she had ever seen was Mr Wilby, but now she was beginning to wonder exactly what sort of establishment Uncle Sly was running. At night there was the constant passage of feet, loud and drunken voices and the sound of doors opening
and closing, and yet, by morning, all these men had disappeared like mist burned off by the sun. It was very strange. Glancing at the clock on the mantelshelf, Rosetta set her mug down on the table. If she didn’t hurry she would be late for rehearsal and Madame was driving her even harder than ever. Tonight would be her first appearance as a solo artiste and she could not afford to give a bad performance.

Rosetta was about to open the front door when Sly came steaming down the stairs. ‘Oy! You ain’t paid last week’s rent yet, Rose.’

‘I’ll give it you when I get me wages at the end of the week.’

‘You’d better pay up, my girl, or I’ll have to tell Lottie and she won’t be best pleased.’

Rosetta blew him a kiss. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get your money.’

‘And there’s the matter of a knuckle of ham what went missing. I give Elsie a good thrashing for it but she swore it weren’t her. D’you know anything about that?’

‘Sorry, Uncle Sly. I got to go.’ Opening the door, Rosetta fled.

At the end of the day’s rehearsals, Rosetta slumped down on a chair with her head between her knees.

‘You done good, Rosetta,’ Madame said, coming to stand in front of her. ‘You perform like
that tonight and you’ll be well on your way to star billing.’

Rosetta lifted her head, brushing the sweat from her eyes. ‘You think so?’

‘I’m sure of it. For one thing you’ve got talent and for another you’ve got Alfie wrapped round your little finger.’

‘Maybe.’

‘No need to be modest,’ Madame said, winking. ‘I seen the old goat leering at you. You’ve put Aggie’s nose right out of joint. Anyway, I got to go and give her what for. She was late again this morning.’

Watching Madame marching off down the corridor, Rosetta couldn’t help feeling pleased that Aggie was going to get a good telling off. She had arrived late for rehearsal, sour as a bag of lemons, and, during rehearsals, had danced like a duck wearing hobnail boots. The gossip was that Aggie had been out to supper with Alf Ricketts last night. Getting stiffly to her feet, Rosetta could hear Madame’s shrill voice berating Aggie and she almost felt sorry for her. After all, if Alf was getting what he wanted from Aggie then, when it came to her turn, he might be satisfied with a lot less. Rosetta shuddered at the thought of allowing Alf anything more than a grope and a bit of a cuddle, but if that was what it took to get top billing, then that was what it took. She would show Jonas Crowe that she was
someone to be respected, an artiste in her own right. When she was top of the bill at the Falstaff he would come begging her to entertain the punters in his club, and then she would have the pleasure of turning him down. That would show him that Rosetta Capretti was not a person to be overlooked, ignored or patronised.

The show had gone well and Alf was pleased. Rosetta had been prepared for an invitation for supper but she hadn’t counted on eating in a pie and eel shop. She stabbed her fork into the white flesh of the stewed eel swimming in liquor and popped it into her mouth. She had thought that Alf might take her up West for a meal in an expensive restaurant, but by the time the show was over and the theatre closed up for the night, she was so hungry that she could have chewed the leg off the table and enjoyed it. Alf, sitting beside her in the booth with a chequered napkin tucked into his collar, was dipping bread into the liquor and sucking it into his mouth with moist, slopping sounds and grunts of pleasure.

‘I like to see a woman with a good appetite,’ he said, wiping his face on the napkin. ‘You’re a girl after me own heart, Rosie.’

‘Rosetta. I don’t like being called Rosie, it’s vulgar.’

Slapping her on the thigh, Alf gave a deep belly laugh. ‘Ho, and that song you sang tonight
wasn’t vulgar? Not a bit risky, like? Come off it, Rosie, you ain’t no nun, so don’t go putting on airs. I like you just as you are.’

Rosetta swallowed the last piece of eel and, reluctantly, left a potato on her plate, remembering Mum’s strict instructions regarding manners. A young lady never finishes up everything on her plate; it makes her look greedy and it ain’t polite.

‘Right then, you ready for the off, girlie?’

‘Don’t I get no pudding? Not even a penny lick?’

‘I’ll give you more than a penny lick, my girl.’

Alf’s beery breath made Rosetta feel sick, but she forced a smile, angling her head. ‘Oh, you are funny, Alfie. But I could manage a bit of spotted dick and custard.’

Alf raised his hand to summon the waiter. ‘Never let it be said that Alf Ricketts don’t know how to treat a lady.’

Whether it was the combination of eels, spotted dick and custard or the proximity of Alf’s sweating body in the hansom cab, by the time they reached Old Street Rosetta was feeling genuinely sick.

‘Why are we stopping here?’ she demanded as Alf banged on the roof and ordered the cabby to stop outside the theatre. ‘Don’t tell me we got a midnight show.’

‘We could have our own little private show, dearie.’

‘Alfie, dear, I really ought to get home to me beauty sleep. After all, you don’t want me falling asleep during me number, do you?’

‘Falling asleep is the last thing on my mind, Rosie.’ Alf clambered out of the cab, paid the driver and held his hand out to Rosetta. ‘Just got a couple of things I need to check in my office, Miss Capretti. If you’d do me the honour.’

Alf’s mottled, beef-sausage fingers waved a cheery goodbye as the hansom cab drew away from the kerb. Rosetta stumbled, grabbed the iron railings outside the house and was sick down the area steps. Shivering and trembling all over, she dragged herself up to the front door and felt inside the letter box for the piece of string that was tied to the door key. Once safely inside, she went downstairs to the kitchen, treading softly so as not to wake anyone in the house. Elsie was curled up like a puppy on a rug in front of the range, sound asleep. Tiptoeing past her, Rosetta went into the scullery and filled a cup with cold water from the tap. She drank thirstily and splashed her face with water, intent on getting rid of the taste and smell of Alf Ricketts. She retched at the memory of his drunken, slobbery kisses, the stench of his breath and the final pain and degradation she had suffered
when her protests were ignored and he took her on the office floor like a common slut. Aunt Lottie had made it all sound so easy, as if the act of love was a delight in itself and bringing men to it was all a game. For the first time in her life, Rosetta found herself envying Ruby. Ruby, she thought, would never have put herself in such an unenviable position. Rosetta had always teased her about her dry old medical books and her ambition to care for the sick and needy, but maybe Ruby had the right idea after all.