The Gilded Lily (34 page)

‘I know. Peter says everyone’s looking for her. But he says not to tell, ’cos she might come after me and slit my throat.’

‘Where was this, Simon?’

‘I dunno. I can remember it, I think. But what if she sees me? She might come and get me. Peter says she can shift shape like a witch and fly in your window at night.’

‘I’ll be with you, so you needn’t be scared. I’ll hold your hand if you like.’

‘Nah,’ he backed away, ‘don’t need nobody to hold my hand.’ Corey could see he was not keen, but an offer of a few more currant buns soon tempered his
resistance.

‘Tom, pass me my togs from the hook.’ Tom reached behind him and passed her cloak and hat over.

She shouted back through the door. ‘I’m just bobbing out a while. You’d better all be washed up and said your prayers by the time I get back, or there’ll be trouble
– you hear me?’

Silence.

‘D’you hear me?’ she yelled.

A chorus of mumbles from the other children.

‘Come on then, Simon.’

He ran ahead, looking back over his shoulder for reassurance she was still there, whilst they hurried towards Old Swan Stairs.

When they got to Thames Street they turned off down the alley to the shore and the lad hid behind Corey and pointed. The window was on the upper floor, and black, like a hole in a tooth. The
house looked like any other, a rickety jumble of timbers and beams part suspended over the water. Icicles hung in festoons from the half-timbering. Corey led him across the frozen boards of the
wharf and up the side alley of the house so she could get a better look. There seemed to be nobody at home, the house was lightless.

‘It’s all right. There’s nobody home.’

‘Phew. I was scared she’d see me again – three times is powerful bad luck.’

‘Can you find your way home?’

Simon nodded. ‘I used to come here a lot, with Dad’s bogey, getting washed-up pickings from the barges. It’s only a step or two.’

‘Thanks, Simon. Run along home then.’

He hesitated a moment. ‘Please, miss, what about my currant patty?’

She laughed. ‘Oh yes, come along tomorrow for your share.’

She watched him run off, fleet-footed as a rabbit, racing past the upturned boats, dodging the ropes and quay stones with nimble leaps.

When Simon had gone she looked at the front door of the house and was surprised to see it was open, just a crack, propped on the latch. She touched it with her hand and it creaked open. Unable
to resist, she went in and looked around. There were two doors off the hall, one opposite and one on her right, open, with a staircase leading to an upper floor. The doors were dusty and the walls
crumbling with flaking limewash. Though it looked unkempt and deserted, she could smell the soot of a fire so she called out anyway.

‘Hello?’

A woman’s voice came from the door opposite. ‘Come in, Corey.’

Corey started. She thought she had used her name. She put a foot on the stair but it creaked loudly.

The woman’s voice called out, ‘Who’s that?’

She stopped guiltily. ‘Sorry to bother you, my name’s Corey Johnson, I’m looking—’

‘I thought it was you. Well, don’t stand about out there, come in. I want a word with you, about the noise.’

Corey hesitated, but the voice said ‘Come on in’ again, so she pushed open the door and went in. The room was warm, the remains of a coal fire glowed in the grate giving a little
light. On the other side of the room was a wooden fourpost bed with the curtains drawn back and a confusion of blankets and linen piled over it. A middle-aged woman swathed in knitted shawls was
perched there, pale as the sheets, her cheeks hollow and grey. She broke into a hacking cough the minute she saw Corey. When she had her breath back, she looked at her out of red-rimmed eyes.

‘Who the Devil are you?’

‘Corey Johnson, I—’

‘Don’t be funny with me. Corey Johnson lives upstairs, and you’re not her. What do you want?’ Then more weakly, ‘I’m warning you – my son will be home
any minute and he’s got a knife.’

‘I
am
Corey Johnson. That’s my name, honest. I don’t know another Corey Johnson. I’m looking for two girls.’

‘What about them? There was a constable round here looking for them before. He talked to Miss Johnson from upstairs. But you’re confusing me. You said you were Miss Johnson.
You’re not Miss Johnson.’ She started to struggle in the bed and become more agitated. ‘Dennis!’ she cried, ‘Dennis!’

She must be lost in the wits, thought Corey, backing away. ‘Beg pardon, mistress, please don’t take on so, I’m going now.’

‘Help!’ the woman said weakly, her frightened eyes peering over the scrambled bedclothes. But before she could call out again, she burst into another fit of racking coughs.

‘Oh please,’ Corey said, ‘don’t upset yourself, I’m going now. I’m so sorry to have bothered you.’ She retreated rapidly into the hall. Inside the
coughing continued. As Corey went out of the front door she nearly bumped into a tall, long-faced young lad in a felt hat and knitted muffler.

‘Dennis?’ came the faint voice from inside. The lad stared at Corey questioningly, as if to ask her what her business was, but she lowered her head and pushed past him. If this was
Dennis, the son with the knife, she had no desire to linger.

Sadie stood at the window, staring out. She had heard Dennis’s voice from below and his mother’s cough, but Dennis had not been up, perhaps he was still sore at
them for disturbing her. She had hoped when he saw the lock he might persuade Ella to take it off. It wasn’t that she’d go anywhere, but it was galling to think Ella did not trust her.
Earlier she thought she heard Ella’s voice, talking with Mrs Gowper, but then nobody had appeared. It must have been her imagination, she thought. So the next time she heard Ella’s
footsteps on the stairs she did not move, even when the door opened and the draught from the hall blew in.

‘For God’s sake, what are you doing in the dark?’ Ella said.

A pause, during which Sadie heard the slight hiss of Ella’s skirts brushing the boards.

‘And look, the breakfast things are still unwashed,’ Ella said accusingly. ‘I’ve been hard at work all day and you’ve not even tidied yourself up or lit a
fire.’ She must have found the flints for the room wavered into light.

Sadie held herself very tightly with her arms folded over her chest. ‘I have tidied myself up,’ she said.

‘I said, what have you been doing all day? The dirty dishes are still here.’

Sadie swivelled round. ‘You didn’t fetch in any water. So there’s none for boiling or for washing,’ she said.

‘Sorry, I forgot. Never mind, I can go in a minute. What are you looking at out there?’

‘Ships. I’m watching for tall ships.’

‘Come on, Sadie, get supper started. I’ve bought some herrings, and a big fat bloomer from the bakery. And I’ve got good news.’

Her heart leapt. ‘Have they stopped looking for us?’

‘No. No, not that.’

Sadie sighed, and turned to the window again. ‘Better fetch the water from the pump,’ she said, still looking out. ‘Go on. And you’d better lock me in. You never know, I
might go running into the street shouting, “Look at us! We’re the Savage Sisters!”’

Ella made a noisy fuss of fetching the bucket and disappeared downstairs to fill it from the pump well in the yard round the corner. When she came back she held it gingerly with both hands so it
swayed and slopped as she carried it.

‘Why are you carrying it like that?’ Sadie said.

‘The rope tears my hands. I don’t want them to look like working girl’s hands. And I forgot to put my gloves on.’

Sadie lifted her hands in mock horror. ‘Oh my, milady, we can’t have that.’

‘Look, Sadie, let’s get a fire lit and supper on. You’re just hungry. You’ll feel better when you’ve eaten.’ Ella set down the bucket and rubbed at her palm
with her fingers. She began to pull out sticks one by one from the kindling, dragging them at arm’s length so the whole pile came with it. Unable to resist, Sadie hurried over to help.

‘Not like that, look – it makes it untidy. Come here, I’ll do it.’ Sadie crouched to make up the fire.

Ella drew out a waxed paper packet from her basket, opening it so the salty smell filled the room. ‘Get a skillet on, there’s enough for two portions each.’

Sadie sniffed. ‘Did you say there was bread?’

Ella held up the chubby loaf with a flourish. ‘Tan-tara!’

Sadie smiled, though she wasn’t really ready to. She cleared the table and coaxed the fire with the remains of the wood, and as she did these practical tasks she felt in better cheer. Soon
there was the pungent smell of frying fish. She bent over the skillet with concentration, turning the fish gently with a wooden spatula so as not to break them. Ella watched, a safe distance from
the spitting pan. Fish smoke was renowned for lingering in hair and clothes, she said.

Sadie said grace. She did this on purpose because she knew Ella had no time for it. Ella shuffled on her seat whilst she did so. Happen Ella did not like her inviting the Good Lord in to watch
them and see what they were doing, but it made Sadie feel safer somehow. They ate in silence a while, giving their full attention to the food.

‘It’s good,’ Sadie said, with her mouth full. ‘It was a fine idea to get herring, Ella.’ She was trying to apologize for her earlier sulkiness. ‘Tell me about
this news, now.’

Ella took another small mouthful, but then put the bread down.

‘Well, I’ve been promoted.’

‘Oh, Ell, that’s gradely. Does that mean you’ll be getting more money?’

‘Yes, a bit more, but it’s different hours. I’m to work afternoons and evenings now.’

‘Oh.’ Sadie tried to take in what that would mean.

Ella went on, ‘It’ll be late evenings, because Whitgift’s is going to stay open till gone midnight.’

Sadie put down her plate. ‘Ella, can’t you turn it down? It’s awful lonely here at night. Now I don’t go out, the nights on my own are the worst.’

‘I’ve already said yes. It’s a big compliment, it would have been insulting to the Whitgifts to turn it down.’

Sadie sighed. ‘I can see you’ve made your mind up, and you’ll go your own way as usual. Well, I suppose we’ll just have to make the most of the mornings then.’

Ella trailed the fish heads round her plate with her knife, before looking up. ‘The thing is, Sadie, it’s a live-in position,’ she said, and then hastily, ‘It’s
only temporary, just for a few weeks whilst the Lily gets up and running . . .’

Sadie stared a moment, then stood up and threw the platter down on the table so the knife clattered to the ground.

‘What about me?’

Ella’s hand stopped halfway to her mouth.

‘What about me, Ella? Is there a place for me at your precious Whitgift’s? Oh, I thought not. I can’t sleep nights because the whole of London’s out looking for me. For
me, Ella. For something you’ve done.’

Ella took her plate off her lap and set it on the table. She wiped her mouth on her kerchief with irritating slowness. ‘You came with me, when we stole those things, you knew what we were
doing.’

‘Yes, but I didn’t know it would mean this. I didn’t know then that you’d murdered him.’

‘I didn’t kill anyone, do you hear.’ Ella’s hand shot out and slapped Sadie hard across the face. Sadie did not flinch, though the blow made her cheek sting.

‘I don’t believe you,’ she retorted. ‘I would never have thought that my own sister would lock me in a room whilst she went out whoring every day, but look at what
you’ve come to.’

‘You cat. You know that’s not true.’

‘Widow Gowper thinks it is.’ Sadie knew it was nonsense, but she wanted to hurt Ella back.

‘That old witch. How are we supposed to eat if I don’t work? I have to work at the Lily. It’s not my fault you look the way you do. You could cover it up, use the cream I
bought you.’

‘Get off to your precious Lily then.’

Ella did not reply.

‘Go on. You make me sick. You dragged me here, and now you’re going to leave me flat. So bloody get on with it. Get to your fancy-man at Whitgift’s, I’m not going to
stand in your way. I can do without you, so help me I can.’ Sadie picked up Ella’s cloak and hurled it at her. ‘Get out, now. And don’t come back either.’

Ella bent over stiffly and retrieved the wrap from the floor. ‘All right. If you’re set on being like that, I’m going. I’ll come see you every day, I promise.
You’ll need me to fetch for you, get the water, buy food. If you won’t cover your face I can’t let you go out, you know I can’t.’

‘What?’ Sadie struggled to grasp the implications of Ella’s words. ‘Wait a minute, you’re not going to lock me in again—’

‘It’ll only be for a few weeks. Just until they stop looking for you and it’s safe for you to go out.’ Ella was shouldering her cloak and preparing to leave.

Sadie’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. ‘No. Don’t leave me locked up like a dog. Don’t go, Ella. I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry. You’re all I’ve
got left. Don’t leave me here. You promised we’d stick together. Please don’t go.’

‘Then why won’t you wear the bloody cream? Don’t tell me it’s because of that stuff I bought in Netherbarrow. That was years ago. You can’t still be blaming me for
that now.’

Sadie looked at her. A great sob arose in her throat. Tears began to pour down her face. She couldn’t answer.

‘Well, what is it? I don’t think it’s the cream you’re afraid of. It’s life, that’s what it is. You’re afraid of anything good happening. And you hate
it if anything good happens to me.’

‘Don’t,’ Sadie said, ‘you know that’s not true,’ but even as she said it, Ella swept up the empty basket and stepped outside the door.

‘No, Ella!’

‘Well, I’m taking whatever Whitgift’s offering. I’ll not let you hold me back. I’ll be back tomorrow to bring provisions.’

‘Where are you going? No, Ella, I’ll stay inside I promise, please—’

Even as Sadie said the words the key was turning in the padlock, and Ella was gone.