¦
That evening, Rose was feeling tired. She was also hungry, but there was no sign of Daisy and she wondered whether she should start eating without her.
At nine o’ clock, there was a knock on her door. Rose opened it. Miss Harringey stood there. “There is a person downstairs to see you.”
Rose arched her eyebrows. “I do not see persons, Miss Harringey. What does he want?”
“I do not approve of gentlemen callers. Would you be so good as to descend and send him on his way.”
Rose followed her down the stairs. “He is in my sanctum,” said Miss Harringey, throwing open the door.
Rose stared at Billy, from his dyed greased hair down over his plaid suit with the brown velvet lapels to his brown boots, and then her eyes travelled back up again to his face.
“Yes?”
“I am Mr Billy Gardon. You may have heard of me.”
“No. State your business.”
“It’s a delicate matter,” said Billy, looking at Miss Harringey. “It’s about Daisy.”
“Step outside with me,” said Rose. “Thank you, Miss Harringey.”
She led Billy out into a small hall and closed the door behind her on Miss Harringey’s curious face.
Miss Harringey opened the door a crack. She heard Billy saying, “Miss Levine’s been taken ill. She’s at the theatre. I got a flat there, up top. She’s asking for you.”
“I will get my coat and come with you directly,” said Rose.
¦
Captain Harry Cathcart was enjoying his breakfast on Sunday morning when his manservant, Becket, announced, “Mr Matthew Jarvis to see you on urgent business.”
“Mr Jarvis?”
“The Earl of Hadshire’s secretary.”
Harry felt a sudden stab of unease. “Show him in.”
Matthew strode into the room, his normally pleasant face white with strain. “I came to you directly. I normally don’t work on Sundays, particularly with his lordship being away…”
“Sit down, Mr Jarvis. Coffee?”
“No, thank you. I decided to work this morning because I planned to visit my mother in the country tomorrow. I was going through Saturday’s post and found this. It had been delivered by hand.”
Harry took the cheap envelope and extracted a piece of lined paper. He read: “If you want to see your daughter again, bring five thousand guineas to Jack Straw’s Castle in Hampstead on Monday at two in the afternoon. Don’t tell no one or she’s dead.”
“Jack Straw’s Castle – that’s that pub on Hampstead Heath, isn’t it?” asked Harry.
“Yes. Oh, what are we to do?” wailed Matthew. “If the police are informed, it will all come out that Lady Rose was working for a living and she will be socially damned for the rest of her life!”
“Leave it with me,” said Harry. “Becket, get my hat and coat and come with me.”
¦
“So,” said Harry, when he and Becket were confronting Miss Harringey half an hour later, “you will understand that as Miss Rose’s brother, I am anxious to find her. I have but recently returned from Australia.”
“Some vulgar man called on her. Miss Summer took him into the hall and closed the door on me. As I am a lady, I do not listen at doors.”
“It must be very hard for you, taking care of these young ladies who lodge here,” said Harry.
“I do my best, sir.”
Harry slowly pulled out a rouleau of guineas and extracted five. He then let the gold coins slide slowly from hand to hand. “I am prepared to pay for information. Perhaps one of the other ladies…?”
Staring at the gold, Miss Harringey said, “I did manage to hear a few words.”
“Which were?”
“I wasn’t really listening, but they had left my door open a crack. He said he was Billy Gardon. He said Daisy had been taken ill at the theatre. He said he had a flat at the top of the theatre.”
What a lot of information for someone who wasn’t really listening, thought Harry cynically. He placed the five guineas on the edge of a lace-covered bamboo table. It must be Butler’s Music Hall. Daisy used to work there.
¦
Rose and Daisy were lying side by side on the narrow bed, bound and gagged. Tears of weakness spilled down Rose’s cheeks. Her thoughts had only been for Daisy when she had entered the room ahead of Billy and had seen the still figure of Daisy lying on the bed. As she bent over her, Billy had charged and knocked her flat on the bed over Daisy’s body and, pinning her down with his great bulk, had tied her wrists. Then he had gagged her and tied her ankles as well and shoved her on the bed after he had bound and gagged the drugged lady’s maid as well.
Daisy kept twisting round to look at her with pleading eyes, but Rose was so furious with her she would not even acknowledge her presence.
Poor Daisy was feeling frantic. Billy didn’t know the earl and countess were abroad. What would happen when he didn’t get a reply? She had forgotten about the earl’s secretary. Rose would fire her after this. She would need to return to the old life – the former life with all its poverty and dirt and squalor that she had so conveniently forgotten. If only they could get out of this, if only Rose would forgive her, then she would get back to that bank and type till her fingers fell off with sheer gratitude.
Far below from the street came the sounds of hawkers and the rumbling of carts over the cobbles, the clip- clop of horses’ hooves, and an occasional burst of drunken laughter.
If only I could save us, thought Daisy, then maybe Rose would forgive me. Billy had kept away from them as much as possible. He had not stayed in the frowsty little room during Saturday night. He had visited them on Sunday morning and had lit one candle because the morning was dark and foggy. Thoughtful of the bastard, sneered a voice in Daisy’s head.
Then, as she looked at the candle, she had an idea. She rolled over Rose’s body and fell on the floor. She rolled across the floor until she was at the wall and, manoeuvring herself until her back was against the wall, she began to push herself upright. Then she jumped across the room to where the candle stood burning on a rickety table. Jumping round until her back was facing it, she stretched her bound wrists over the flame. The pain was excruciating but Daisy held her wrist steady until the rope began to singe and then burn. At last she was able to free her wrists. She tore off her gag and bent and untied her ankles.
She rushed to the bed and ungagged and untied Rose. “Don’t say a word till I use the chamber-pot,” said Daisy, pulling that receptacle out from under the bed. She squatted down while Rose crawled stiffly out of bed. “I bin holdin’ it in all night,” said Daisy, reverting to her former Cockney accent under the strain of it all.
“How do we get out of here?” asked Rose coldly.
Daisy tried the door.
“It’s locked,” she wailed.
“He’s coming back,” said Rose, hearing footsteps on the stairs.
Daisy seized a frying-pan from a shelf and stood by the door. “I’ll whack the bleeder wiff this the minute he comes in.”
There was a banging on the door and a familiar voice shouted, “Open up or I’ll break the door down.”
“Captain Cathcart!” shouted Rose. “Break the door down. He may be back any minute.”
The door heaved and shuddered as Harry threw his weight on it and it finally crashed open.
Rose flung herself into his arms and then almost immediately withdrew, her face flaming. “How did you know where we were?” she asked.
“Becket will explain. Becket, take the ladies to my home and telephone Mr Jarvis to bring round a change of clothes for Lady Rose and for Miss Levine. I will wait for this Billy Gardon.”
“I can’t see our coats or hats,” said Rose, looking around.
“Probably sold them,” said Daisy.
Becket hustled them down the stairs to where two urchins were guarding the captain’s car. He tucked them in with fur rugs and then got into the driving seat.
There was a long silence and then Daisy said in a little voice, “I’m sorry.”
