Cinderella Sister (20 page)

Mr Sadler cleared his throat nervously. ‘How do you do, sir? May I wish you the compliments of the season?’

‘You can wish me whatever you like,’ Grandpa said, scowling. ‘What d’you want here, schoolmaster? The rats ate our dinner, so don’t hope to fill your belly here.’

‘Grandpa!’ Nell said in a shocked tone. ‘Mr Sadler has just come to pay his respects.’

‘He’s got something for you, you miserable old man,’ Aggie said, pushing past Mr Sadler and making her way to warm her hands in front of the fire. ‘It’s blooming taters out there. Wouldn’t be surprised if we had snow before nightfall.’

‘What have you got then?’ Grandpa demanded, his eyes brightening.

Mr Sadler took a step towards him, taking a small wooden box from his inside pocket. ‘A few cigars, Mr Larkin. A small Christmas gift for you.’

Grandpa snatched the box and opened it, taking out a cigar and rolling it between his fingers as he held it under his nose, sniffing and inhaling the scent of Havana tobacco. ‘The real thing,’ he murmured. ‘Lily, fetch me a lighted spill.’

Lily hurried to do his bidding, flashing a grateful smile at Mr Sadler. She thought he looked most uncomfortable in his Sunday-best suit, with a starched collar cutting into his thin cheeks and his shock of dark hair carefully combed and slicked with pomade. He was shifting from one foot to the other, and he reminded her of a stork she had once seen on a rare visit to the Zoological Gardens in Regent’s Park.

‘That was very kind of you, Mr Sadler,’ Nell said, taking off her bonnet and mantle. ‘May I offer you a cup of tea?’

‘Thank you, that would be most acceptable, Miss Larkin.’

Lily waited patiently while Grandpa took a silver-plated cigar clipper from his waistcoat pocket, snipped the end off the fat cigar and pierced it with the point of the small instrument. He took the spill from her and warmed the cigar before lighting it with a beatific smile on his face. He extinguished the spill with a puff of blue smoke. ‘Excellent cigar, schoolmaster. You’ve gone up a notch in my estimation.
Now all I need is that mulled wine or hot toddy and I’ll be a happy man.’

‘The demon drink,’ Aggie said, shaking her head. ‘The kettle has boiled and I’m making a pot of tea. Am I right in thinking you’re a temperance man, Mr Sadler, sir?’

‘Aggie,’ Nell said sternly. ‘That’s none of your business.’

Lily was torn between an overwhelming desire to giggle and sympathy for Mr Sadler, who was looking more discomforted by the minute.

‘I enjoy a glass of sherry wine on festive occasions,’ he said after a moment’s consideration. ‘But I am not inclined to partake of strong spirits. Perhaps a little champagne at a wedding might be acceptable, or a fine wine with a good meal, but never hard liquor, which I believe has been the ruin of many a good man.’

‘And woman.’ Aggie poured boiling water onto the tea leaves in the china teapot, which was still perfect apart from a chipped spout that was inclined to send hot tea splashing in all directions.

‘I would ask you to stay for luncheon, Mr Sadler,’ Nell said apologetically, ‘but I’m afraid we had a mishap with the goose.’

‘The rats ate it,’ Molly said with a wicked grin. ‘We’re overrun with them, Mr Sadler. I wouldn’t stay if I were you.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of imposing upon your family, Miss Molly.’ Mr Sadler’s grim expression softened as he turned to Nell. ‘Perhaps I could escort you to luncheon at a chophouse, Miss Larkin. That is if your family could spare you.’

‘Thank you, but I can’t accept your kind offer,’ Nell said, blushing furiously. ‘You must understand that I couldn’t desert my family on this of all days.’

Lily was puzzled by Nell’s refusal of such a generous offer, but Aggie was still going on about the Temperance Society and Grandpa was sitting in his chair puffing out smoke like an old steam engine. Lily decided that this was turning out to be a very odd Christmas. She was hardly surprised when a loud knocking on the front door interrupted Aggie in full flow.

‘I’ll go.’ Glad of an excuse to leave the room, Lily hurried downstairs and opened the door to find both Gabriel and Armand standing in the alley. Gabriel was weighed down by a huge wicker basket filled with fruit and Armand’s arms were filled with hothouse flowers. In his hat he had a sprig of mistletoe. Lily looked from one to the other in amazement.

‘Merry Christmas, Lily,’ Gabriel said, smiling. ‘I’ve come to wish your family the compliments of the season.’

‘As have I,’ Armand countered. ‘I left here under a cloud yesterday, Lily. I have come to make peace with your grandpapa.’

‘I don’t suppose the flowers are for him,’ Lily said, unable to resist the temptation to tease Armand, who was glaring at Gabriel as if put out by the presence of a possible rival. ‘You’d better come in, Armand.’ She stood aside to allow him to enter and he made his way up the steep staircase, but when Gabriel stepped over the threshold, she barred his way. ‘What do you think you’re doing? I told you that I can’t accept your offer.’

‘I just want us to be friends, Lily. It is the season of goodwill after all.’

‘Keep your voice down.’ Lily glanced anxiously over her shoulder, but Armand had reached the top of the stairs and was out of earshot. ‘You really shouldn’t have come here. My family wouldn’t approve of our friendship.’

‘But we are friends, are we not?’

She nodded. ‘I suppose so.’

‘And did you receive the present, Lily?’

‘So it was from you. I can’t accept such a gift – it’s much too expensive.’

‘No, my dear Lily, you’ve got it all wrong. The paintbox was not from me, although God knows I wish I’d thought of it first. It was from Cara, your mother.’

‘That can’t be true. My mother was called Charlotte, and she left us years ago.’

He slapped his hand on his forehead with a self-deprecating smile. ‘Of course, silly of me, I ought to have realised that you would know her only as Charlotte, but now she chooses to be called Cara. It is part of her bohemian lifestyle.’

‘I don’t understand why she has singled me out from my brothers and sisters.’

He took her hand and held it. ‘She is deeply, deeply sorry for what happened ten years ago, Lily. She wishes more than anything in the world to make amends for deserting you especially, since you were such a child then, and perhaps she feels closest to you because of the talent you both share.’

‘But why now? Why would she want to see me after all this time?’

‘Only she can answer that, Lily. But your mother is an accomplished artist in her own right and she has many admirers in the art world. She begs you to come with me today.’

Looking into his eyes, she could see no hint of mockery in their depths and she knew that he was sincere, but she was shocked by his revelation. For years she had longed for this moment and had been certain that one day Ma would return to the bosom of her family, but this was not how she had expected it to happen.

‘I can’t, Gabriel,’ she murmured, lowering her gaze. ‘Not today of all days.’

‘Why not?’

She pulled her hand free. ‘I just can’t, that’s all. Maybe tomorrow.’

‘Is that what I am to tell her, Lily? She will be very disappointed.’

‘Will she?’ Lily felt an angry lump knotting in her stomach. ‘Well, perhaps Ma would like to think of the past ten Christmases when she didn’t care about us at all. I want to see her, of course I do, but I can’t and won’t do anything to upset my family.’

Gabriel placed his arm around her shoulders. ‘I understand, and I will try to make Cara see things from your point of view, but she’s a stubborn woman and once she makes up her mind to something …’

His wry expression drew a gurgle of laughter from Lily. ‘It runs in the family. You should take warning, Gabriel.’

‘It’s too late for that,’ he said softly. ‘I am involved more than you could possibly imagine.’

‘I’d better go upstairs,’ Lily said hastily. ‘They’ll wonder what’s keeping me. Will you come and meet them? Armand will have told them that you’re here.’

He shook his head, picking up the basket of fruit and thrusting it into her arms. ‘I think not. I don’t want to make things difficult for you today, but perhaps my gift might ease the way when I next call on you.’

‘A bottle of rum would be even more likely to warm Grandpa’s heart.’

Gabriel pinched her cheek so gently that it felt more like a kiss. ‘You are a rebel at heart, I can tell.’

She shook her head. ‘Not really. Well, perhaps just a little.’

He touched her hair, wrapping a lock around his forefinger. ‘Such a colour – golden like the sun and yet with a hint of fire; no wonder they thought of you as the lily in the flames. I would like to paint you like that, with your hair streaming out in the wind and a background of burning buildings. Would you sit for me one day, Lily?’

She was about to answer when Molly appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘Nell says you are to come up at once, Lily. And he is to go away. Grandpa says he won’t have a strange young man turning up uninvited. I never said a word. Honest.’

‘I’m coming.’ Lily turned to Gabriel with an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sorry about that.’

‘It’s all right. I understand, and if you were my granddaughter I would probably feel the same.’

He pulled a face that made her laugh out loud and put her instantly at her ease. ‘I can’t imagine you as a grumpy grandpa.’

‘I would have to be a husband and father first.’ Gabriel lifted her hand to his lips and brushed it with a kiss. ‘I’ve never seen myself in that role, but I’m beginning to see the attraction of being a family man.’

‘Lily!’ Molly’s voice rose to a crescendo. ‘Come on up, or shall I send Aggie down to fetch you?’

‘I must go,’ Lily said, placing one foot on the bottom step. ‘Merry Christmas, Gabriel.’

‘Merry Christmas, Lily. Shall I call for you tomorrow so that I may take you to Keppel Street to see Cara?’

She hesitated for a heartbeat. She longed to accept, but she knew what her answer must be. ‘Perhaps another time. I’m sorry. I really must go upstairs and join the family. Goodbye, Gabriel.’

He saluted her in mock military style. ‘Until then, Lily.’ He let himself out into the alley.

Molly leaned over the banister rail. ‘He’s gone at last. For heaven’s sake hurry up, Lily, or we’ll both be in trouble. You know how impatient Grandpa is.’

Hefting the heavy basket of fruit up the narrow staircase, Lily was already wondering if she had done the right thing. Her desire to see Ma had overcome her reservations and now she was set on a path of deception that might have disastrous consequences. She could only hope that Ma’s wish to see her would evolve into the desire to embrace all her children. She went slowly up the stairs, battling with her conscience and comforting herself with the thought
that hers could be the first step in reuniting their family.

There was a lull in the conversation as she followed Molly into the living room and placed the basket of fruit on the table.

‘Well, I’m blowed,’ Grandpa exclaimed, rising to his feet and hobbling over to examine the gift. ‘I haven’t seen fruit like this since I worked in the docks.’ He held up a pineapple. ‘When did we last taste one of these?’

‘I can’t remember,’ Nell said, shaking her head. ‘It’s a generous gift and we ought to thank your friend, Lily. Who is he, and what does he do for a living?’

Molly grinned mischievously. ‘He’s an artist, isn’t he, Lil? Tell them.’

Lily’s worst fears were realised as she noted the shocked looks on all their faces. ‘His name is Gabriel, but it doesn’t matter because I won’t be seeing him again.’

‘I should hope not.’ Grandpa dropped the pineapple as if it had burnt his finger. ‘The fellow will be a wastrel like the rest of his ilk. I won’t have him in the house and he can take his bleeding basket of fruit and toss it in the Thames for all I care.’

‘Oh no, Grandpa,’ Lily cried, rescuing the pineapple as it rolled across the floorboards. ‘I mean, we can’t waste good food. It would be a crime.’

‘It would be a sin against God,’ Aggie added, licking her lips as she fingered a ripe peach. ‘I’ve not tasted one of these since I was a girl.’ She turned to Grandpa with a fierce frown. ‘The damage is done now, old man.
The gift has been accepted and hurling pineapples around the room isn’t going to hurt anyone but the said piece of fruit. It certainly won’t bother the young man who brought the present. We should honour the day, if not the deed.’

Molly snatched an orange and began peeling it. ‘It’s Christmas, Grandpa.’

‘If I may make so bold, sir,’ Mr Sadler said, clasping his hands together and steepling his fingers. ‘It would seem a shame to dispose of such a handsome gift, but if you have no use for it I know many poor families who would be suitably grateful to receive such bounty.’

‘Keep your thoughts to yourself, schoolmaster. I’m the head of this household and what I say goes. Eat the bloody rubbish if you must, you women, but save an orange to put in the mulled wine, if I ever get it.’

As he stomped back to his seat in the window, Lily couldn’t help noticing that Grandpa had forgotten to limp. She tried not to smile as he threw himself down in his chair, sending it rocking to and fro like a metronome set to its fastest beat.

‘I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn.’ Spots of colour stood out on Mr Sadler’s high cheekbones.

Nell laid her hand on his arm. ‘Your sentiments were honourable, Mr Sadler, but perhaps a little misplaced in the circumstances.’

‘Won’t you call me Eugene, Miss Nell? After all, we are not in school now, and as your sister says, it is Christmas Day.’

Nell glanced anxiously at Armand, who had been standing silently watching and listening but keeping
out of the argument. He stepped forward, clearing his throat. ‘May I make a suggestion?’

Lily held her breath as Molly sucked hard on the orange, making a noise that earned her a frown from Nell. Aggie spat out the peach stone, eyeing Mr Sadler with interest. He bridled, moving a step closer to Nell as if about to snatch her from his rival’s grasp, but Nell was looking up at Armand with a tender smile. ‘Please do, Armand. What would you like to say?’

‘I would like you all to be my guests for dinner tonight. I am staying at the Prospect of Whitby, which may not be a hotel of the highest luxury but the food is good, and it is not too far away from here.’