The Christmas Rose

Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018

Copyright © Dilly Court 2018

Jacket Photographs: © Gordon Crabb/Alison Eldred (Girl); © Heritage Image Partnership Ltd/Alamy (street scene), © Shutterstock.com (all other images)

Cover design by Claire Ward © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018

Dilly Court asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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Source ISBN: 9780008199685

Ebook Edition © November 2018 ISBN: 9780008199692

Version: 2019-10-17

Dedication

For Sam Avant.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

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About the Author

Also by Dilly Court

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Royal Victoria Dock, London, October 1882

Rose leaned over the railings, peering into the fog that had crept up on the steamship as it entered the Thames Estuary. It was even thicker when they arrived in Bow Creek, and as the vessel slid gracefully into the dock they were engulfed in a peasouper, making it impossible to distinguish the faces of the individuals waiting to greet the passengers.

‘Is he there, love?’

Rose turned to give the small woman a weary smile. ‘I can’t see very far, Mrs Parker. But I’d know him anywhere, and I can’t spot anyone who looks remotely like him.’

Adele Parker laid her gloved hand on Rose’s arm. ‘Don’t worry, dear. I’m sure your young man is there somewhere.’

‘Max promised to meet me.’ Rose could not quite keep a note of desperation from her voice. ‘We planned it all so carefully.’

‘Then I’m sure he’ll be here soon. It’ll take a while for the crew to put the gangplank in place and unload the luggage.’ Adele wrapped her shawl more tightly around her plump body. ‘It’s so cold and damp. We’ve been away for five years and I’ve almost forgotten what the English winter is like.’

‘I was only nine when we left for Australia,’ Rose said, sighing. ‘But there’s nothing to keep me in Bendigo now.’

Adele gave her a searching look. ‘How old are you, Rose?’

‘I’m eighteen, ma’am.’

‘I do worry about you, dear. I sympathise with you and your young man, but you do know you can’t marry without your parents’ consent, don’t you?’

‘I’m an orphan. Ma died when I was very young and Pa was killed in a mining accident a year ago. He gave up the sea because he thought he could make more money in a gold mine. It was a bad move.’

‘You didn’t tell me that, you poor dear.’ Adela gave her a hug. ‘You’re a brave girl, Rose. I wish you all the luck in the world.’

‘Thank you.’ Rose returned the embrace. Adele had shown her nothing but kindness during their time at sea, and, despite the difference in their ages, they had become good friends.

‘We’ll be staying with my mother-in-law, who lives in Elder Street, Spitalfields,’ Adele said gently. ‘I forget the number of the house but it has a black door with a lion’s head knocker. Ma-in-law is very proud of that.’

Rose smiled vaguely. ‘That sounds nice.’

‘If you need anything just come and see me.’ Adele craned her neck at the sound of the movement from a lower deck. ‘The gangplank is in place. I must find Mr Parker.’ She started off in the direction of the companionway, but she hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. ‘We’ll be catching the next train from Canning Town. You’re more than welcome to travel with us if your young man doesn’t put in an appearance.’

Rose was acutely conscious of the need to watch the pennies, but she managed a smile. ‘Thank you, but Max will be here. He promised.’ She strained her eyes as she peered into the thick curtain of fog, hoping to catch sight of the man for whom she had given up her home and her adopted family. A feeling of near-panic made her clutch the wet railing until her knuckles turned white. If Max, for whatever reason, could not meet her, she would be in a terrible fix. The possibility had not occurred to her during the voyage from the Australian port of Geelong to London. She had lived in a haze of romantic visions of what her life would be like as the wife of a dashing cavalry officer, but something as simple as a London particular was in danger of shattering her hopes and dreams.

Sadie, the woman who had become a second mother to Rose, had uttered dire warnings and these came flooding back to her now. Perhaps she ought to have listened, but she had ignored them and had allowed Max to purchase a berth for her on the Bendigo Queen. Sadie had been quick to notice the deepening affection between Rose and Max. He was five years Rose’s senior and she had been slightly in awe of him when they first arrived in the mining town of Bendigo, and it was Jimmy, his younger brother, who had been her particular friend. Two years later Max had been sent back to England to attend Sandhurst Military Academy, and it was on his first trip home that they had met again. Rose closed her eyes, conjuring up a vision of Max, his gleaming blond hair waved back from a high forehead, his classic features, piercing blue eyes, and his newly acquired military bearing. It had been love at first sight when she had met him then, even though they had known each other since childhood, and, to her surprise, the feeling was mutual. What a handsome young man from a wealthy family had seen in a skinny green-eyed girl with wildly curling copper hair she had never been able to fathom, but Max loved her and she loved him. Unfortunately his mother and Raven Dorincourt, his aristocratic stepfather, disapproved, and Max was promptly packed off to England to finish his training, but his parents could not prevent them from corresponding. Rose had a bundle of Max’s letters tied with pink ribbon, stowed carefully in her luggage. Reading them at night before she went to sleep had kept her going through the long days of their separation and during the voyage home to England.

‘Rose, dear. We’re leaving now. Are you coming with us?’

Adele’s voice brought Rose sharply to her senses, and she was left facing a wall of thick pea-green fog and an uncertain future. There was nothing she could do other than to follow Mr and Mrs Parker down the companionway to the lower deck. Everyone was pushing and jostling for position as the passengers disembarked. The level of sound from the dock grew in intensity as people called out to each other, whistling and shouting to attract the attention of those who had come to meet and greet them.

Festus Parker disappeared into the crowd, telling his wife to stay where she was while he went to retrieve their baggage. Rose could only stand there, damp, cold and increasingly panic stricken as she searched the crowd for the young cavalry officer who had stolen her heart in such a dramatic way.

Adele tugged at her sleeve. ‘Maybe he was delayed by the fog. Come with us, dear. We’re going to stay in Elder Street until we get out next posting.’

‘Thank you, but I’ll wait. Max will be here – he promised.’ Rose’s voice caught on a barely suppressed sob, but she held back the tears of desperation that threatened to overwhelm her as she struggled against a wave of homesickness. Sadie would tell her to keep a stiff upper lip, whatever that meant, but Rose was beginning to wish she had never left the noisy, often chaotic house attached to the school in Bendigo.

Adele fumbled in her reticule and brought out a pencil and a religious tract. She tore it in half, pulling a face as she did so. ‘I’m sure the Good Lord will forgive me, but this is the only piece of paper I have.’ She wrote something and passed it to Rose. ‘This is where we’ll be for the foreseeable future. If you get into difficulties, you know where to find us.’

Rose put it in her pocket. ‘Thank you, Mrs Parker. I won’t forget your kindness to me during our voyage.’

‘Nonsense, Rose. You’ve been a delight and you helped to alleviate the boredom of the long days at sea.’ Adele moved aside as her husband emerged from the gloom, carrying a large valise and Rose’s carpet bag.

‘You travelled light, Rosie,’ Festus said cheerfully. ‘I wish my wife could limit herself to so little in the way of clothing.’

Adele beamed at him. ‘It’s my one weakness. I know it is pure vanity, and I should try to overcome my love of pretty gowns and lovely colours, but we are as the Good Lord made us.’

‘I’m sure you make up for it in kindness, Mrs Parker.’ Rose leaned over to kiss Adele’s round cheek.

‘You can still change your mind and come with us, Rose.’

‘Thank you for your offer, but I will wait here for Max. He’ll come, I know he will.’

Adele and her husband exchanged worried glances. ‘Have you anywhere to stay in London?’ Festus asked abruptly. ‘Has your young man found suitable accommodation for you?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Rose said airily. ‘We’ll be lodging at the Captain’s House in Wapping. I lived there for a while when I was a child.’

Festus nodded gravely. ‘Do you know how to get there, should your friend be delayed by the fog?’

‘Max gave me instructions, so you really need not worry. But I am grateful for your concern, really I am.’ Rose stood her ground, despite the Parkers’ continued questioning. She knew that their concern for her was genuine, but she trusted Max. She had given up everything to be with him, and she was certain that he would not let her down.

After a tearful farewell the Parkers melted into the crowd and were immediately lost from sight. The peasouper seemed to be getting thicker with each passing minute and still there was no sign of Max. Rose picked up her luggage, edged her way towards a pile of wooden crates and perched on one, preparing to wait even if it took all night. Max had promised – he would come.

The crowds thinned and soon Rose was the only passenger left, but the busy life of the docks went on around her and she sat there, largely unnoticed. At one point a fussy man wearing a bowler hat demanded to know her business, and when she explained that she was waiting for someone he advised her to move on. She did not argue, but she ignored his advice, and an hour or so later a man wearing workman’s clothing approached her with a mug of tea in his hand.

‘Here, love. You look as if you could do with this.’

Rose took it and drank thirstily. The hot, sweet tea burned her tongue but she could feel its warmth seeping down to her empty stomach, and she realised that she had not eaten since breakfast. ‘Thank you, sir.’ She handed back the empty cup.

‘Sir, is it? I don’t often get treated with such politeness. Anyway, I got daughters of me own at home, and I wouldn’t want to see them sitting there all day, waiting for someone what is obviously not going to come.’

His words brought her abruptly to her senses. She had lost all track of time but it was getting dark and the fog was thicker than ever. She struggled to her feet. ‘Ta for the tea. Perhaps I’d better go.’

‘That’s right, love. You go home. Whoever it was that should have met you ain’t worth nuppence, leaving a young lady like yourself on your own.’ He lowered his voice. ‘There are some strange types to be found in a place like this.’

‘Can you direct me to the station, please?’ Rose tried to sound casual, but she realised suddenly that she was chilled to the bone and she was shivering violently.

The workman frowned, pushing his cap to the back of his head. ‘I’ve finished me shift, love. You’d best come with me. I’ll see you safe to Canning Town station, but you’re on your own from there.’

‘Thank you. You’re very kind.’

‘I’d hope someone would do the same if any of my girls was in need of help. Follow me.’ He loped off, leaving Rose to carry her heavy bag, but she was more than grateful. It was obvious that something momentous must have occurred to prevent Max from meeting her, and she would have to find her own way to the Captain’s House. Sadie always spoke fondly of the old house on the wharf that was now owned by Max’s older sister, Caroline, who had married well. Rose trudged after her protector, glad of his presence as she received whistles and indecent proposals from some of the men who were loitering around the dock gates.

At the ticket office her new friend turned to her. ‘Got your money ready, miss?’

Rose had her purse in her hand, but it felt very light and she knew that the money in it would not take her very far. She took out her last silver sixpence. ‘How far will this get me?’

The man in the ticket office seized the coin. ‘Fenchurch Street, miss.’

‘That’s where I’m going,’ Rose said firmly. She had no idea where Fenchurch Street was in relation to Wapping, but she had a dim memory of hearing the name and it seemed familiar. Anything was better than being stuck out here in the cold and dark.

‘I’ll leave you to it, then. Good night, miss.’

She turned to thank the man but he had vanished into the fog. ‘I didn’t even know his name,’ she said out loud.

The railway clerk handed her a ticket. ‘What did you say, miss?’

‘Nothing. Thank you.’

‘Platform one, miss.’

‘Thank you.’ She made her way to platform one, walking as fast as her cramped and tired limbs would allow. At least it would be warm on the train and she could sit down in comfort, for a little while. But where was Max? Why hadn’t he been there when she needed him?

She had only been able to afford a third-class ticket, and when the train arrived it was overcrowded, with standing room only, and the passengers were crammed in shoulder to shoulder. After nearly two months at sea, breathing in the fresh salt-laden air, Rose felt that she was suffocating, and the smell of sweaty bodies and unwashed clothing was almost too much to bear. When the train eventually pulled into Fenchurch Street station she was forcibly ejected as her fellow travellers pushed and shoved in their efforts to leave the compartment.

Standing on the platform, a small island in the midst of a swirling sea of people, Rose had never felt so alone in her whole life. She grabbed the first woman who was about to rush past her.

‘Excuse me, please. Can you tell me how to get to Wapping?’

The pale-faced woman, whose brown eyes were blank with fatigue, pulled her arm free with an angry twist of her thin lips. ‘You should have got off the train at Leman Street.’

‘I didn’t know that,’ Rose said humbly. ‘Where do I go from here?’

The woman pointed vaguely. ‘Head that way until you get to the Minories and then walk down Little Tower Hill and turn into Upper East Smithfield. You’ll have to ask directions when you get there, but keep going towards the river and you’ll get to Wapping High Street. Be careful who you speak to, girl. There’s some odd sorts round there.’ She wrapped her shawl around her head and dived into the crowd without giving Rose a chance to thank her.

There was nothing for it but to start walking. Rose tried to remember the woman’s hurried instructions, but the fog was even thicker here than it had been in the Royal Victoria Dock, and she had to keep stopping to ask the way. Sometimes her enquiries were met with a helpful answer, but more often than not people ignored her and walked past.

It soon became obvious that she was lost – the landmarks were obliterated by the fog and her breathing became more laboured with each step she took. She had lost all sense of time, but it felt like the middle of the night. The occasional cab lurched past her, but the horses moved at a plodding pace, and it was not until they were almost upon her that it was possible to gauge how close they were, making it necessary for her to leap out of the way. Rose’s nerves were shredded and she was exhausted and very hungry. Desperation was making her reckless, and, as she felt her way from wall to wall, she was suddenly aware of a shaft of light and the sound of raucous voices. The smell of ale and spirits wafted out of the pub in a cloud of tobacco smoke. Rose was about to go inside when someone grabbed her by the arm.

‘I’d steer clear of that place if I was you, dearie.’

Rose struggled but she was hampered by her heavy carpet bag and the woman had a grip of steel. ‘What’s it to you?’ she said crossly.

‘Up from the country are you?’

Rose dumped her baggage on the pavement. ‘Who are you?’

‘I’m a friend, love. But you’re not from round here, are you? You wouldn’t want to go in there if you was up to snuff.’

Rose sighed. ‘I was born in London, but my pa took me to Australia when I was a nipper.’

The woman leaned forward to peer into Rose’s face. ‘I’m Cora Smith, and if you’ve got any sense in that noddle of yours you’ll take my advice and move on from here. What’s your name?’

‘I’m Rose Munday and I’m trying to get to the Captain’s House on the wharf at Wapping.’

Cora threw back her head and laughed. ‘There’s lots of wharfs at Wapping, love. D’you know which one?’

‘No, but it wasn’t far from the dock police station. I remember that.’

‘Well, that’s a start. Come on then. Seems to me this is my night to be a good citizen, for a change.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘My, my, you are a persistent little thing. What did they teach you in Australia, Rose Munday? Didn’t they have women like me, with painted lips and rouged cheeks, what earns their living by any way they can – mostly flat on their backs or—’

‘Yes, I understand,’ Rose said hastily. ‘I grew up in a mining town so I know how it goes.’

‘Tell you what, Rose. I was going to point you in the right direction, but I don’t want your dead body floating downriver on me conscience. I know this part of London like the back of me hand and I’ll see you safely home. Is someone waiting for you?’

‘I hope so,’ Rose said fervently. ‘Max was going to meet me – he gave me his word.’

‘Men and their promises.’ Cora tossed her head. ‘Come on, this peasouper ain’t going to clear before morning. Let’s get going.’

They seemed to have been walking for hours. Rose could feel blisters at the point of bursting on her heels, and she was just beginning to think she would drop from exhaustion when Cora came to a sudden halt. ‘Watch where you go.’

Slowly and painfully Rose followed Cora down a steep flight of steps, and she was in familiar territory at last. Despite the sulphurous stench of the fog mixed with the smoke from thousands of chimneys, the smell of the river mud took her back to her childhood. In her mind’s eye she could see the run-down boatyard where her father had struggled to make a living. It had been her home and she had forgotten the hardships, remembering only the hot summer days when she had paddled in the shallows and picked wildflowers on the river-bank.

‘This must be it,’ she whispered. ‘The Captain’s House can’t be far now and Max will be there waiting for me.’

‘I wouldn’t bet on it, love.’ Cora reached out to clutch Rose’s hand. ‘Keep close to me. There’ll be coils of rope, chains and all sorts waiting to trip you up and fling you into the river.’ She paused. ‘Can you hear it? The water is lapping the wharf and that means it’s high tide.’

‘Yes, I remember now.’

‘Good. Then you know that if you fall in you won’t stand a chance. No one will see you and they won’t hear your cries for help. The current will suck you under and you’ll be a goner.’

‘Why are you doing this for me, Cora? Why would you want to help someone you’ve never met before?’

‘You ask too many questions. Come on. I’m dying for a smoke and a drink, and the sooner I deliver you, the sooner I can find a nice warm pub.’

‘All right. I’m coming.’ Rose tried not to drag her feet as she followed Cora, who seemed to have limitless energy. Then, just as Rose was about to give up, she was aware of a different smell and one that was very familiar. It was a mixture of burning sugar, roasting coffee beans and spices emanating from the warehouses surrounding the docks.

‘This is it,’ she said excitedly. ‘We must be very near. I remember how it smelled when the wind was in a certain direction.’

‘There ain’t no wind, duck. It’s your imagination.’

‘You’re wrong. I know this is the place.’ Rose dropped her bag and, holding her arms outstretched, she walked slowly, feeling the way until she came to the wooden steps. She ran her fingers over the rail and there it was. ‘This is the house,’ she cried triumphantly. ‘Max carved his initials on this piece of wood the day before we left for Australia.’

‘Then there’s only one thing to do.’ Cora pushed past her and marched up the steps to hammer on the door. ‘I want to meet this young man of yours and give him a piece of my mind for leaving a kid like you to find her way home in the middle of a London particular.’ She took a step backwards as the door opened and a pale shaft of light pierced the fog.

‘What d’yer want?’

Rose hesitated. It was not Max’s voice and a shiver ran down her spine. ‘I’ve come to see Max Manning,’ she said nervously.

‘Who?’

‘You heard her, mister,’ Cora said angrily. ‘Have you got cloth ears or something?’

‘Less of your lip.’ The man held the lantern close to Cora’s face. ‘Ho, touting for business, are you? You’d best come in then.’ He reached out a skinny but muscular arm and yanked Cora over the threshold before she had a chance to argue.

Rose dropped her carpet bag and ran to Cora’s aid. ‘Leave her alone. We just want to see Max.’

‘There ain’t no one of that name here, girl.’ The man shoved Cora so hard that she stumbled and fell in a heap with a flurry of red flannel petticoats, exposing legs clad in black stockings.