Название: An Almond for a Parrot: the gripping and decadent historical page turner
Автор: Wray Delaney
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9780008182557
isbn:
‘He isn’t my father,’ I said. ‘Just as you aren’t my stepmother. I expect you are going to tell me that Mercy and Hope aren’t your daughters.’
‘No, they’re not. I must appear most cruel. Forgive me. My plan may well have worked if it hadn’t been for Mrs Sitton. I had underestimated a mother’s desire to protect her child.’ Pretty Poppet moved closer to Mrs Gibbs, who rang a little bell on the side table and a man dressed all in grey entered. ‘Refreshments,’ she said.
I wasn’t sure if she was addressing the man, Pretty Poppet or me. I was very hungry and quite thirsty.
‘Yes, please,’ I said.
Queenie Gibbs leaned back. ‘When I think about it, my dear, the whole plan was a failure before it even had a chance to be my greatest success. Mr Truegood, never a quiet drunk, blurted out my intentions to one of his scurvy friends who, for a good sum, soothed those burning ears of Mrs Sitton with the truth. She had her son bundled off against his will on a ship for America, thereby securing the family’s mean little name and considerable fortune.’ She sighed. ‘When Crease’s dog answered my question and spelled out the words “AT SEA”, I knew I’d failed.’
‘It is a terrible pity for Mr Sitton. I am sure the water will not agree with him one jot,’ I said, still trying to adjust my picture of my stepmother to fit this woman, Queenie Gibbs.
‘It’s by the by. Tully, believe me when I say I truly wanted to do right by you and I would have stayed to find you a suitable match. But when I learned from Hope that you had been married at twelve and that the marriage held fast, I lost all patience with Mr Truegood – even more so when he refused point-blank to tell me the name of your mysterious husband, or the reason he had married you off at such an unnecessarily young age.’
‘A debt,’ I said. ‘It could only have been in want of money.’
‘Indubitably. Thank God those marriages have been abolished. They have ruined many a family.’
‘I don’t want to go back to Milk Street,’ I said. ‘Could I stay here?’
Mrs Gibbs stood and walked to the window. ‘In all honesty this is not the place for you.’
‘Why not? I could be a maid.’
‘Do you know how much a maid earns?’ she said. ‘Five pounds a year.’
To me that seemed a fortune. What I could do with five pounds a year.
‘I would be happy with that,’ I said. ‘I could help you run the house.’
Mrs Gibbs laughed. ‘Who do you think owns this house?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I own this house. And it is in the process of being made into one of the finest brothels the metropolis has to offer.’
I stumbled over the thought.
‘I will explain. I grew up in poverty in Covent Garden. A flower girl, I climbed up society’s rickety ladder – man by man. In other words, I made my money as a prostitute. I also happen to have a mind for business and I was determined never to go back to where I came from. This, my dear, is a house of pleasure. I do not need more servants, I need experienced ladies of easy virtue, exotic birds to delight rich gentlemen.’
‘I could learn to be an exotic bird.’
‘No!’ said Pretty Poppet.
Queenie surely must have heard her but she didn’t look round.
‘How much do you think Mercy and Hope earn?’ she asked
As I’d assumed they were ladies, I hadn’t thought for a moment that they earned a penny, and, blushing, I said so.
Mrs Gibbs’s answer stunned me.
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