A Death for a Cause Read online

  I used Bertram’s momentary shock to escape and head down the steps to the side door. I assumed that those I wished to talk to would definitely be using the tradesman’s entrance. I knocked smartly on the door. I had a last glimpse of Bertram’s shiny brogues pacing back and forth in indecision before my attention was taken by the door opening.

  In truth I had prepared many speeches to achieve my objective and been happy with none. My intention had been to discuss matters further with Bertram until he showed his intractable side. As it was my heart was in my mouth as the blue door opened. I had a moment of panic, but managed to suppress my impulse to flee simply because I couldn’t bear to see the smug look on Bertram’s face if I bottled it.

  ‘Good evening,’ I began before the door was even fully open. ‘I …’

  An older man with greying hair, who was clearly a butler but dressed with exceptional style, said, ‘Lizzy?’ in a pleasant baritone. ‘You are a little late.’

  I opened my mouth and closed it again.

  ‘You are Lizzy, aren’t you?’

  I managed to nod my head. The man gave me an avuncular smile, ‘Well, my dear, this is a good, clean house and you will be well looked after. You have no need to worry. Come in.’

  Dumbly, I followed him inside and along a narrow passageway. ‘I’ll take you in and you can meet some of the other girls. I’m sure they will take to you. From what I can see you are quite different from the others and we do like to offer our gentlemen variety.’

  My faint hope that Lizzy might have been the new kitchen maid faded. ‘Now, what you’re wearing is quite nice, but the master has laid out your costume for the evening in one of our downstairs rooms. It is not so very different from what you are wearing, but it is, shall we say, more accessible.’ He opened a door to a large kitchen. A not unpleasant smell of cooking wafted out. ‘I suggest you get yourself a decent dinner,’ continued the man, ‘and maybe a glass of wine for courage.’ He ushered me in. As I passed him he gave me a little pat on the bottom. With difficulty I managed to suppress both my small squeak and my immediate response to turn round and slap him.

  The scene in the kitchen, if it hadn’t been for the apparel the occupants were wearing, would have been quite domestic. Several women were seated around a kitchen table. Three were finishing their dinner. All of them looked to be no more than nineteen. One of them, the youngest at around seventeen, was licking her knife with an expression of ecstasy. ‘That were right lovely, Mother,’ she said to an older woman, who was tending to pots on the range. ‘I don’t rightly remember when I had such a good plate.’

  ‘Just as well,’ said one of the other three, ‘Father’s said how we’ve got a busy night.’ There was an outburst of giggling. None of the them seemed to have noticed me yet or perhaps they were simply not interested. The diners, and another woman, who was mending a stocking, were all wearing the lowest-cut bodices I had ever seen. Moreover they were loosely laced, doubtless to expose the ladies’ assets to full effect. The woman darning had her feet up on another chair and her skirts pulled up around her thighs, so that a glimpse of lacy underwear could be seen. I must have been staring for one of the diners suddenly said, ‘Cover your purse up, Gladys! You’re shocking the new girl.’

  ‘If she’s shocked by what I’ve got wait till she sees what Sir Toby’s got!’ said the darner. The others burst out laughing.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ said the first girl. ‘We were all new once.’ She got up and came over to me. ‘I’m Betsy, but the gentlemen call me Lucia. They like nicer names. Most of them.’ She guided me to the table. ‘Mother, can you get the new girl a plate?’ she called over to the cook. ‘She’s not actually our mother,’ she said in a low voice to me, ‘but she likes us to call her that. Rather like Father. He’s the butler. You watch out for him. He’s all nice and friendly, but a couple of tots of gin and he’s got more arms than an octopus. Probably tell you how he gets it on the house as he works here. Don’t you believe it. We don’t service none but the proper gents.’

  A plate of stew was set in front of me with a cup of tea. ‘Get that down yer, love,’ said the cook. ‘Father said how the master wants you to get straight to it. He always reckons it’s best with you new ones to throw you right in.’

  ‘Oh are you doing the fainting virgin too?’ asked the seventeen-year-old. ‘Only that’s kind of my thing.’

  ‘Ah but you, Janie, are a blonde and this girl has got lovely chestnut curls.’ She fingered my curls and I fought an impulse to pull away. ‘Quite a different look. So there’s no need to be getting your claws out.’

  I still hadn’t spoken. I now understood that Bertram had been completely and utterly right. This was a stupid plan. None of these women were going to open up to me easily and I had no desire to chat with an octopus. At the moment Bertram could have been as smug as he liked if only he would walk through the kitchen door and rescue me right now. I looked over hopefully, but the door stayed resolutely shut.

  Mother followed my gaze. ‘There’s no point thinking of leaving, my dear,’ she said firmly. ‘The master has paid good money to your family for you and until you work it off you’ll be staying here. If you had any doubts you should have left them on the doorstep. Gladys, keep an eye on her, we don’t want a bolter.’ She turned back to me. ‘Not that you’ll get far. Father keeps the house locked up tight. Now, when you’ve finished, Gladys will take you through and show you your get-up. Nice red one it is.’

  I managed to swallow a few mouthfuls of stew and tepid tea. My mind was racing frantically. I decided to play the foolish, scared girl, which was not too far from the truth. Hopefully, if I was quiet and seemingly compliant, I would be able to grab a chance to escape before the evening’s entertainment begun. The doors might be locked, but did they lock the windows too? There had to be emergency measures in case of fire, didn’t there?

  It was with a sinking heart I followed the girl through to another little room. Laid out on a chair was a ghastly, indecent scarlet gown. ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said the girl. ‘If you’ve trouble with the laces I’m sure Father will be only too glad to help.’ She gave a little chuckle as she closed the door behind her. I heard the sound of a key in a lock. I immediately ran over to see if the key had been left in the lock, but luck was not with me. The room was small with only the chair, a mirror and a small barred window. I felt an absurd impulse to burst into tears. I gave myself a little shake and mentally told myself that if I could face death in a pigsty, I could certainly get myself out of an ordinary house. I struggled into the dress and redid my hair, ensuring I tucked some long and pointed pins securely into my locks for use in extremis. I took a look in the long glass mirror and saw a woman I sincerely hoped my mother would not recognise.

  The dress did not have sleeves, so I was unable to slide a pin up my cuff. When the door opened once more, without a single knock, Father stood there. He looked me up and down in both an intimate and a professional manner. ‘Very nice,’ he said. ‘Now, I don’t want to be indiscreet,’ he gave a faint laugh, ‘I’ll leave that to your first caller. A very nice gentleman, if I might say so. The master is starting you off with the gentle ones, who don’t have particular interests. Now, I need to ask you, have you got your sponge in? Do you need any help? I can send Mother in if you do?’

  By now I was barely following what he was saying. ‘I always ask the new girls after what happened to little Annie. Before you were born, that was, but the poor lass died giving birth. Blamed myself for that one I did. Not that we don’t get the odd by-blow here, but if you’re in trouble Mother is very good with dealing with things if you speak to her early enough.’

  ‘What happened to the baby,’ I said. My voice sounded faint and far away.

  ‘Oh, she had a particular and he took it. Paid for it to be raised nice by all accounts. Most of the clients wouldn’t have been interested, but he was quite young himself, and sweet on Annie, if I’m any judge. Some of them do get that way, you know, but it’s only th
e real nobs that ever marry one of you girls. Got to be someone who can spit in the eye of the world, and him, well, he were a clerk or some such. Though how he found the money to visit her as regular as he did, I’ll never know. Anyway, you got your sponge in like a good girl? Not foolproof, of course, but you give yourself a good wash out when he’s gone and more than likely you’ll be as right as houses.’

  I couldn’t say a word. If I opened my mouth I was certain I would be sick. ‘Right, follow me, girl,’ said Father. He led me down a maze of twisting passageways, up a small flight of servants’ stairs, and opened the door to a bedroom with a huge, over-decorated four-poster bed. ‘Washstand and water by the window,’ he said. ‘Gent will have a key.’

  Then he locked me in. I ran to the window, but it was barred. I looked around the room for a weapon. Nothing which seemed better to me that the pins in my hair. I had no idea if I could hit a man hard enough with a chair to incapacitate him. I thought briefly of explaining my position, but I had a sinking feeling that I would not be taken seriously. In fact, my caller might even believe it was part of an act. No, the only way out would be to bloody the unsuspecting gentleman and flee screaming. If I was lucky, the real Lizzy was at this minute knocking at the door.

  I pulled out the largest, sharpest pin from my hair, and stood with my hands behind my back.

  It was not very long at all before I heard the sound of a key in a lock. My gentleman caller had arrived. I stepped to one side of the doorway and tensed, ready to strike. I hoped he was a small man and not some large, ‘beefy’ individual.

  With terrible slowness the doorknob turned …

  41 This was a little unfair. See our first encounter in my journal A Death in the Family.

  42 This may sound immodest, but … well, yes, it is immodest.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  My gentleman caller takes me by surprise

  I raised my hand ready to strike. If I could strike the back of his neck and leave the pin in then he would be too occupied with twisting and extracting it rather than pursuing my flight. Luck was with me; the man emerging slowly the door was not tall. I lunged.

  With a speed that caught me completely off guard the man span and caught my arm. He twisted it painfully and then released me immediately.

  ‘Euphemia!’ cried Bertram. ‘What the hell are you wearing?’

  ‘Bertram, what on earth are you doing in a prostitute’s room?’

  ‘I could damn well ask you the same!’

  Unaccountably tears pricked my eyes. ‘I expected you to talk to the men downstairs,’ I said. ‘I never dreamed you’d …’

  Bertram finally closed the door behind him and pushed me back into the room. ‘For your information,’ he said coldly, ‘my intention was only to talk to the girl. I would have paid her well for her time, but not availed myself of her … usual services. Not that that is any of your concern.’ He looked me up and down. ‘What, may I ask, were your intentions?’

  ‘I was going to stick you in the neck with this pin and make a run for it,’ I said and burst into tears. ‘Oh, Bertram, you were right. This place is awful. It was a stupid idea.’

  Bertram’s face softened at once. ‘Might I suggest that next time you intend to take someone by surprise, you do not yell at the same time as you intend to strike?’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘You said something along the lines of “take that, you vile …” I caught your arm at that moment, so I do not know how you intended to finish your statement.’

  I could not look him in the face. ‘Beast,’ I said quietly. He put one hand on my shoulder and with the other raised my chin up, looking deep into my eyes.

  ‘Did anything happen?’ he asked intently. ‘You can tell me. I won’t judge you.’

  My tears stopped at once. ‘No,’ I responded, shocked. ‘I am not that foolish, nor that helpless.’ I brushed a hand over my eyes. The top of my bodice slid slightly and Bertram retracted his hand as if he had been burnt. A slight smile quivered at the edge of my mouth. ‘I do not believe it will be possible for us to retrieve my clothing. I fear I must ask you for your coat once we are outside.’

  ‘But how the devil do I get you out?’ asked Bertram.

  ‘You escort me to the door like a gentleman. For all I know the women here actually do that with their clients. It is only once we reach the doorstep that we both take to our heels. I do not believe this establishment would wish to draw attention to itself through a chase outside.’

  ‘My reputation will be in tatters,’ said Bertram mournfully.

  ‘Your reputation?’

  ‘No one would recognise you like that. You look the image of a lady of the night.’

  As there was nothing I could say to this outrageous comment, I did the next best thing and inveigled Bertram into the tightening of my laces. ‘I can’t possibly,’ he said blushing.

  ‘Do you want this dress to fall off me as we flee?’ I enquired. ‘Because that is exactly what will happen if you don’t! The laces tighten at the back, there is nothing for you to see.’

  ‘I fear I have already seen far too much,’ muttered Bertram as he began to tug away.

  ‘At least you did not walk in on me in my bath,’ I could not resist adding. I immediately regretted this as Bertram tugged so tightly I thought my lungs would leap out of my chest. When I was finally as respectably adjusted as was possible, we sat down on the edge of the bed together to wait.

  ‘I will let you work out the timing,’ I said.

  Bertram raised an eyebrow quizzically.

  ‘I have no idea how long such things take,’ I snapped. ‘If you were a pig or a bull …’

  ‘Quite. Quite. I think this about long enough.’

  ‘Really?’ I asked in genuine surprise.

  ‘The men who come here do not expect lengthy trysts,’ said Bertram to the carpet.

  ‘It hardly seems worth their while to come at all,’ I said.

  Bertram made an inarticulate strangled noise and rose. He held out his arm to me. I sighed and stepped up into character, draping myself over his arm in an overly affectionate manner. Then he opened the door. ‘Deep breath,’ he said, but whether he was referring to keeping up my corset or my courage I could not tell.

  He led me out and along the corridor in the opposite direction from the servants’ stairs. I had already discounted those. I knew Father had locked the back door. The corridor opened out onto a plush landing, filled with aspidistras and flouncy curtains that were quite out of the mode, but I assume they held appeal for the older gentleman I could see milling around in the lobby below.

  The stairs led straight down into a large lobby that was also used as a welcoming area. Cushioned chaise longues abounded and small tables with drinks decanters and cigars were dotted around. So were the girls I had seen in the kitchen earlier. My quick view allowed me to see at least seven gentlemen in suits had arrived for an evening’s entertainment, and given the number of girls I had seen here they no doubt had to wait their turn. One man caught my eye. ‘Isn’t that …?’ I whispered to Bertram.

  ‘Good Gad, so it is! At least he won’t mention he’s seen us here.’

  We made our way gradually to the main door. A liveried man opened the door for Bertram. He released me from his arm and we made as if to give a fond farewell. My lips brushed Bertram’s cheek. At that moment I saw over his shoulder Father emerging into the room with a fresh tray of drinks. ‘Run,’ I yelped and we, as they say in common parlance, legged it.

  ‘Did you really have to yell in my ear?’ asked Bertram when we were safely back at the hotel. We had stopped on a street corner for me to assume his jacket and I had walked past the hotel reception with my nose so high in the air that I had almost fallen over my own feet, but it had worked. We were now back in the safety of our suite. I had changed into respectable attire and Bertram had ordered a pot of tea. He was sitting close to the fire, although the evening had remained mild, and was rubbing peevishly at his ear.

/>   ‘I have explained that I thought we were about to be caught,’ I said. ‘I am sorry your ear still pains you. I am sure you will recover shortly.’ I poured him a cup of tea. ‘Have a biscuit. These ones have jam inside them.’43 Bertram’s eyes lit up and he took two biscuits. I forbore saying a word. Although I had noticed of late that his neck had started to bulge over his collar. No one could call Bertram overweight, but with his enforced sedentary lifestyle – due to a heart condition from his childhood – as he grew older he needed to watch what he ate. I made a mental note to speak to him about this at a more convivial time.

  ‘At least Rory is still in the country,’ I said.

  Bertram showed the whites of his eyes for a moment like a startled horse. ‘For God’s sake, Euphemia, never mention any of this escapade to him! He’d gut me like a poacher’s rabbit!’

  ‘He is your servant.’

  ‘Yes, well, someone should explain that to him,’ said Bertram grumpily.

  ‘His employment is at your disposal,’ I said candidly.

  ‘I know,’ said Bertram reaching for a third biscuit. Really, if he went for a fourth I would have to say something now. ‘But he is damn good at his job – and not just his. He drives the motor better than I do now.’

  ‘That would not be hard,’ I murmured under my breath.

  ‘He helps my factor, talks to my tenants, and I honestly don’t think the cook could manage half as well if he wasn’t keeping his eyes on the accounts.’

  ‘He sounds indispensable.’

  ‘He is,’ agreed Bertram gloomily. ‘It’s not that I don’t like the chap, but we’ve been put off terms of such familiarity when we’ve being off doing stuff for King and Country that the distinction of rank is at risk of being lost.’44

  I sighed. Bertram mistook my meaning.

  ‘Oh no, I didn’t mean …’ said Bertram, ‘I mean, you’re more like one of the family. It’s an entirely different case. If only the man wasn’t so damn fond of you. Makes this a trifle awkward.’