The Marriage Certificate (9 page)

Frank’s company left Cape Town for
Orange River on 11 February 1900. They arrived three days later and unloaded
their horses and equipment. Initially, they took part in scouting activities,
reporting any enemy sightings to headquarters.

On 15 February, they joined other British Forces in the
attack to regain the town of Jacobsdal. Four members of the CIV were wounded,
but the town was taken. Frank’s company was unscathed and their contribution
mentioned in a despatch sent by Lord Roberts to the Lord Mayor of London. ‘
The
City of London Volunteers under Colonel Cholmondeley came under fire for the
first time yesterday at Jacobsdal and behaved most gallantly
.’ The despatch
was widely reported in the British press.

A few days later, Frank’s company found themselves to be
part of the main British force surrounding an army of 13,000 Boers under
General Cronje at Paardeberg. They were held back in reserve, but still able to
witness the British artillery bombardment directed from observation balloons.
The barrage continued periodically for seven days.

One night during the bombardment, a Boer relief convoy tried
to break through, but it was destroyed by fire. Ordered to remain where they
were, the CIV troopers could only watch the flashes of shells in the distance
against the darkness. The following morning, a substantial group of miserable,
bedraggled Boer prisoners was escorted under guard, past their camp.

‘Did you see the age of some those prisoners?’ Frank
remarked to Charlie Mills. ‘One of them was not much more than a boy, and at
the other end of the scale there were a couple of them who looked well over
seventy.’

‘Yes, and all volunteers too, they reckon,’ replied Charlie.

‘I hope I don’t feel the need to take up arms when I’m an
old man. Would you want to? Surely, they must have been forced into arms, not
as volunteers?’

‘Who cares,’ said Charlie. ‘Doesn’t matter what age they
are. If they can hold a rifle, then they can kill us, simple as that. All I
know is, we’ve got a job to do down here. Those Boers are going to toe the
line. They’ve got too big for their boots and we’re here to teach them a
lesson.’

A series of heavy thunderstorms followed over the next few
days, soaking both armies, but more importantly, further sapping the morale of
the entrapped Boer forces. Their situation was desperate.

Finally, on 27 February, Cronje surrendered, giving the
British their victory at Paardeberg. Frank’s company was ordered to escort Boer
prisoners to the town of Modder River. From there, the captives were forwarded
to a specially constructed camp, where they were processed and contained,
before transportation to St Helena, Bermuda, or Ceylon.

Frank and his victorious comrades then enjoyed more than a
week of relative calm, with scouting duties during the day and sentry duty at
night. The men were issued with extra blankets, kit and most welcome of all,
mail from home. Frank was delighted to receive a letter from his mother. She
described the particularly rough crossing on the journey home after the
wedding, and the time John and Louisa had passed at the hotel. He wished he
could have had word from Rose, but he calculated that at best, she would only
have just received his letter, the one he had written during the voyage south.
He wondered about her reaction to the sentiments he had expressed, and whether
she would reciprocate.

He decided, that he would continue to write to her in a
similar vein, unless she indicated to him that she did not feel the same way.
Thus, it was, that during the respite after Paardeberg, he wrote once again to
Rose. With luck, he hoped that she would receive his letter sometime in early
April.

6th March 1900

Dearest Rose

I want you to know how much I
have been thinking of you. I hope you are well.

Things are going well here. I
can’t tell you too much because of the censors, but we are camped by the
Modder, a river, and we have been bathing in it. The fighting for the moment
has diminished and we have been scouting and doing sentry duty. We escorted a
lot of Boer prisoners last week, when Cronje surrendered. If things continue
like this, I am sure that we will be coming home in the autumn, maybe even
before that. I hope you wish to see me when I return.

We received mail today, the
first since we departed England. I had a letter from my mother. I didn’t expect
a letter from you, as even if you had replied post-haste, I shouldn’t imagine
it will arrive in Cape Town before mid-March, and then of course it has to find
its way out here. We are a full three days by train from the coast.

Please write to me Rose. It
would mean a great deal.

Yours, most truly,

Frank.

It all happened quite suddenly one
April afternoon in the shop. Rose had been dealing with a difficult customer.
She was a good customer, but she could be extremely demanding. Rose had shown
her the curtains they had made, as per instruction, but the customer had
declared rudely, and rather aggressively, that the material was darker than she
had chosen and that they were unacceptable. Rose was sure that there had not
been an error on her part and reached down behind the counter to look for her
samples and order book. Meanwhile, the customer became quite insistent and
demanded to see Mr Crockford.

For Rose it was the last straw. She had been feeling unwell
for six weeks. She had also received another letter from Frank, but it was
written before he had received hers. He said he was fine, camped at Modder
River and enjoying a lull in the fighting. He made light, but to Rose he was in
the thick of it, and not just there to stand reserve for the regulars. The
possibility that he might be killed in action only served to heighten her
anxiety over his safety, and her predicament, if he did not return. She was
anxious as to how he would react to her letter. She knew she might have to wait
another four weeks before she got his reply. The worry was preying on her mind.

When she straightened up, with the large heavy order book to
hand, trying at the same time to placate the most unreasonable customer she had
ever encountered, Rose started to feel hot and faint.

As Mr Crockford approached the counter to help with the
awkward customer, Rose passed out.

She regained consciousness when Mrs Robins slapped her
cheeks. Lying on her back on the floor, looking up into the questioning yet
unsympathetic face of Mrs Robins, was not the most pleasant way to return to
the world. Mrs Robins started to scold Rose almost immediately, but Mr
Crockford intervened. He summoned Sidney to help him and the two of them raised
Rose carefully to her feet and helped her to a nearby chair.

‘Daisy, go and get a glass of water. Miss Ince, are you all
right? You fainted. What’s the matter?’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Crockford, I don’t know what happened. I’ve
never felt like that before.’

The irate customer meanwhile had been observing all of this.
Her anger had certainly abated and she was feeling a measure of guilt for the
way she had spoken to Rose. ‘I’m sorry if I upset you. I had no idea you were
of such a fragile disposition. Are you ill?’

Mrs Robins was watching the proceedings like a hawk. She
took a renewed interest and peered down at Rose. She also enquired if Rose knew
of any reason why she had fainted.

‘I’ve no idea,’ murmured Rose, ‘no idea at all.’ She sipped
some water. ‘I feel better now; I would like to carry on.’

Mr Crockford however, would have none of it. ‘I think you
should take the rest of the afternoon off, Miss Ince. Go and have a lie down.
I’ll ask Mrs Jones to send you up a cup of tea. Daisy, please see Miss Ince up
to her room.’

Mr Crockford ordered everyone to return to their posts. He
listened to the customer’s complaint and then consulted Rose’s order book. He
found the customer’s order and saw the swatch of material pinned to the page.
He removed the swatch and compared it against the finished curtain. There was
no doubt that they were identical. When he invited the customer to accompany
him outside to check the colour in daylight, she reluctantly admitted that the
mistake had been hers.

For Rose however, any temporary relief that she had avoided
the discovery of her pregnancy was short-lived, as Mrs Robins’ suspicions had
been aroused. She had noticed Rose’s slight hesitation when the customer had
remarked on her fragile condition. She decided that she would watch Miss Ince
very closely over the next weeks.

A few days later, Mrs Robins spotted Rose urgently whisper
something in Daisy’s ear before hastily leaving her counter and disappearing
towards the back entrance of the shop. She suspected that something was amiss
and made an excuse to her own assistant, deciding that, on the pretence of
needing to use the staff lavatory facilities, she would investigate. Mrs Robins
followed Rose and opened the door into the back yard. There was no one about,
but she could see that the privy was occupied. She quietly closed the door and
tiptoed over to the privy door. She stood and listened. A few moments later,
she was smugly satisfied to hear poor Rose being sick.

Mrs Robins crept back across the yard and re-entered the
shop. She considered what might be the matter with Rose, but she already had
her suspicions, and pregnancy was at the top of her imaginary list. What she
had just heard fitted in well with her theory and she speculated on who the
father might be.
Mr Crockford? Sidney?
No, certainly not
. W
hat
about the best man at Louisa’s wedding? He and Rose seemed to get along very
well. Yes
,
it could be him. He was far too cocky and confident for his
own good, a bit of ‘ladies’ man’ if ever there was one. He’s the most likely
suspect.

Mrs Robins made up her mind to maintain her watch on Rose.
If she found herself free of customers, and if Rose continued to leave her
counter in similar circumstances, then she would follow her again.

Several times over the next week, Mrs Robins noticed Rose
leave her counter quite urgently. She wanted to follow her, but unfortunately,
each time this happened she was dealing with a customer, until early on Friday
morning, not long after opening, she saw Rose heading towards the door to the
yard. Muttering something to Amy, Mrs Robins left her in charge and followed
Rose. Sure enough, the privy was occupied and once again, she was able to hear
Rose being ill. She was sure now and a thin smile crossed her normally harsh,
scowling face. This was her opportunity to bring Miss Rosetta Ince down a peg
or two.

Mrs Robins considered her options for the rest of the day.
She had never liked Rose from the start. She had not liked the way Rose had
been given her own department and put on an equal standing with her in the
hierarchy of the shop.
Imagine
that
, she thought.
Me, with all
of my experience in the drapery trade and her, nothing more than a young slip
of a girl
.

She resented the manner in which Mr Crockford had
immediately taken a shine to Rose. It displeased her to witness the way he
scolded Sidney, if he lingered too long at Rose’s counter. In Mrs Robins’
opinion, Mr Crockford was guilty of jealousy – whether consciously or not –
regarding any competing male attention that Rose received. She also detested
the fact that Rose and Louisa were such close friends. She regarded the
friendship as an element of strategy on the part of Rose, to inveigle herself
even more into Crockford’s, and ultimately she imagined, her own position as the
head of haberdashery might be threatened. She regarded their close friendship
as inappropriate. It could mean that Rose became involved in the running of the
shop. Mr Crockford had already consulted Rose on several matters concerning the
window display, matters upon which she used to be consulted, matters which she
considered as being well beyond the knowledge and experience of the likes of
Miss Ince.

In addition, with the arrival of Constance, Mrs Robins had
felt even more threatened. Constance was another pretty, young woman, whom she
believed lacked the experience to take on the position for which she had been
engaged. There was no doubt that Mr Crockford was ambitious and she had seen
his business treble in size during the last fifteen years. The problem was that
he seemed to be employing younger and younger girls and she could not help but
wonder how much longer she would have a place at Crockford’s. If she had the
ammunition, she would have no greater pleasure than to use it to knock one of
the young upstarts from their pedestal.

Since Rose had joined the business eighteen months before,
Mrs Robins had bided her time, waiting for her chance. She had not done
anything to upset Rose, or given her any indication of how she really felt
about her, but now she had the chance she needed. There was no doubt in her
mind, that once Mr Crockford was made aware of Rose’s predicament, he would
have no choice but to dismiss her. To be expecting a child out of wedlock was
shocking and most unbecoming for a senior employee in a respected drapery
enterprise, such as Crockford’s. There was no way she could imagine that Rose
would be allowed to remain. She smiled inwardly to herself. She was enjoying
this and she eagerly anticipated confronting Rose and ensuring that Mr
Crockford was informed.

First of all, she needed to corner Rose and ask her outright
if she was pregnant. She felt confident that she could extract an admission and
would not be fooled by any denial. Secondly, she would enjoy telling Mr
Crockford and seeing his face when he heard the news. She needed the right
moment to tackle Rose and it presented itself beautifully just after closing
time the following day, Saturday.

Mr Crockford had shown the last of his customers to the door
before locking up and drawing the blind. Daisy and Ivy had put the shutters in
place and had removed the bulk of the items from the window displays. All of
the staff had either gone home or retired upstairs. Rose had remained in the
shop catching up on her ordering and reviewing the work that she needed Sidney
to take out on Monday, to her two outworkers. As she studied her notes, she
became aware of Mrs Robins standing before her, dressed in her hat and coat and
obviously about to leave. Rose realised that for some reason Mrs Robins wished
to speak with her upon some matter before she departed. It was most unusual and
Rose instantly felt a little nervous and uncomfortable.

‘Spending an awful lot of time in the back yard these days,
aren’t we, Miss Ince?’ Mrs Robins stated sarcastically.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Rose, a little taken aback.

‘Oh, I’ve seen you and heard you too, retching and vomiting
… a regular occurrence I’d say. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?’

‘No – no of course not,’ replied Rose. She hoped her denial
was convincing, but she doubted it was so. ‘I’ve had an upset stomach.’

‘Upset stomach? Upset stomach, for four weeks? … I’m not
stupid you know! I’ve had three of my own. You can tell me,’ her voice
softened. ‘I might be able to help.’

Rose hesitated for a moment, before breaking down. It had
all been too much, the worry and the anxious waiting for a reply from Frank.
She wept into her handkerchief, nodding her head, confirming that she was
pregnant and asking what she should do.

‘Do? … Do?’ Mrs Robins exclaimed, her tone hardening once
more to its usual pitch. ‘First thing you can do is hand in your resignation to
Mr Crockford!’

Rose looked up in alarm from her handkerchief. ‘But you said
you might help me? If I tell Mr Crockford, he’ll dismiss me and I’ll be out on
the street.’

‘Well, that’s where you should be, shameless hussy like you,
bringing this shop into disrepute. Good riddance, I say. You’d better tell Mr
Crockford first thing Monday, because if you don’t, then I certainly will.’
With that, Mrs Robins pulled her coat around her with a flourish, gathered her
bag, turned, and marched off swiftly in the direction of the staff entrance.

Rose watched Mrs Robins’ back as she strode away from her.
She tried to breathe deeply to pull herself together, but she started weeping
once more into her handkerchief.

Mrs Robins could hear Rose’s sobs, as she opened the staff
door to leave. When she stepped outside, she too took a deep breath, but hers
was to exhale a sigh of satisfaction. With a broad smile on her face and a
spring in her step, she joined the shoppers and workers on their way home. She
was really looking forward to Monday.