Ragged Rose. Dilly Court

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      ‘Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?’ Cora demanded when Rose entered the dining room.

      ‘I think I might have found the answer.’

      Cora placed the last spoon and fork on the dining table and stood back to admire her work. ‘The answer to what?’

      ‘We have to pay attention to what Dr Grantley said last evening. Mama is only going to get worse if she remains in London. He recommended the country or the seaside, and I might have found a place where she can recuperate.’

      ‘Go on.’ Cora pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘I hope you realise that apart from attending Holy Communion, which you missed, I’ve spent all morning doing the chores that we’re supposed to share.’

      ‘I’m sorry, but I had to make sure we have Maisie to help out this evening, and I wanted to speak to Aunt Polly. What’s more, I’ve discovered that Mama has a friend, my godmother, called Isabel Harman who lives in a place called Lyme Regis.’

      ‘I don’t see how that helps.’

      ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she were to invite our parents to stay for a while? A little holiday for them both.’

      ‘Rose, you are so devious.’

      ‘You don’t think it’s a good idea?’

      ‘No – I think it’s a marvellous idea. With our parents away we can work at Fancello’s without fear of being found out.’

      ‘And Mama will get well again.’

      ‘Yes, of course,’ Cora said hastily. ‘That goes without saying.’

      ‘You’re late,’ Fancello said crossly. ‘This is not a day of rest for you, young ladies.’

      Rose bit back a sharp retort. She would have liked to spend the evening quietly at home, sitting by the fire in the parlour with a good book, or attending to the heap of mending that awaited her attention. Instead she and Cora had braved the cold and rain to walk to Cupid’s Court, only to be greeted by a scolding from their employer.

      ‘We are so sorry, signor,’ Cora said apologetically. ‘It won’t happen again.’

      ‘It had better not.’ Fancello looked them up and down, shaking his head. ‘You look like two drowned sparrows. Go and change at once. Make yourselves look beautiful for the patrons.’

      ‘Yes, signor.’ Rose drew back the curtain just far enough to get a view of the saloon. ‘It’s very quiet out there. Is it always like this on Sunday nights?’

      Fancello bridled visibly. ‘More will arrive soon.’ He stomped off in answer to an urgent summons from his wife.

      ‘Don’t take any notice of him, Rose,’ Cora said, slipping her arm around her sister’s shoulders. ‘I suspect that he’s had a row with Graziella, and he was taking it out on us.’

      ‘You’re right. I’ll just think of the money we’re adding to the amount in Aunt Polly’s strong box, and ignore his bad temper.’

      Cora peered through the gap between the heavy velvet curtains. ‘Gerard isn’t there. I wonder if he’ll come tonight.’

      ‘I know I’ve said it before, but be careful, Cora. He might have a wife and children waiting for him at home, or at the very least a fiancée. Men like the Honourable Gerard Barclay don’t marry girls like us.’

      ‘That is so mean,’ Cora whispered. ‘You don’t know him, Rose. He’s a gentleman and he wouldn’t lead me on. I know he wouldn’t.’ Cora hurried off in the direction of the dressing room.

      ‘I hope you’re right,’ Rose said in a whisper, but Cora was already out of earshot. Rose caught up with her as Cora squeezed into the tiny dressing room. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

      Cora sniffed and turned away. ‘I know what you think. You don’t have to keep telling me, Rose. I’m not a child.’

      ‘I’m sorry. I care about you, Corrie. I don’t want you to end up broken-hearted.’

      ‘I’ll take that chance.’ Cora stepped out of her dress and slipped her costume over her head.

      Rose was about to close the door when she heard the sound of shouting from the upstairs apartment and the sound of breaking glass. ‘Another family squabble,’ she said, chuckling. ‘Thank goodness we don’t throw things when we get cross.’

      ‘Their fights used to worry me, but I’m getting used to them.’ Cora turned her head. ‘Will you tie my laces, please, Rose? As tight as possible.’

      Another loud crash from above made them both jump, and then there was silence. Rose did as Cora asked and then concentrated on getting herself ready.

      She was just adding the finishing touches to her stage make-up when Tommy stuck his head round the door. ‘You’re wanted upstairs, Miss Perkins.’

      She stared at him in astonishment. ‘Upstairs?’

      ‘The signora is in hysterics. The signor wants you.’

      ‘Shall I come with you?’ Cora asked anxiously.

      ‘I’ll be all right. I expect it’s something and nothing.’ Rose stepped into the corridor. She could hear Fancello’s raised voice, and, as she climbed the narrow stairs, the sound of Graziella’s hysterical sobs grew louder. The door to the Fancellos’ flat was ajar and she pushed it open.

      The sight that met her eyes made her gasp with shock and her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, my goodness.’

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