The Christmas Rose: The most heart-warming novel of 2018, from the Sunday Times bestseller

‘Munday is a working woman,’ Eugene protested. ‘The stuffy rules of etiquette don’t apply.’

‘They do in the real world,’ Cecilia said firmly. ‘You live in the make-believe land of those who purport to tell us the truth, when half of the things you print have no bearing on reality whatsoever.’

‘That’s a bit harsh Cissie.’

Cecilia placed her arm around Rose’s shoulders. ‘Take no notice of him. We’ll go to my room and find you something to wear tonight, and I’ll choose my gown so that we don’t clash.’

‘My sister is a harpy,’ Eugene said, throwing up his hands. ‘Don’t listen to her if she says things about me, Rose.’

‘Shut up, Gene.’ Cecilia held her hand out to Rose. ‘Come with me. We’ll do very well without my brother’s assistance.’ She glided from the room and Rose hurried after her.

Cecilia’s bedroom was spacious and elegantly furnished with a peach and gold colour scheme that created a feeling of everlasting sunshine. Cecilia ushered Rose into a dressing room lined with cupboards. The doors were faced with mirrors, creating a kaleidoscope effect, and Rose could see several versions of herself. She had to stifle a childish urge to pull faces, but Cecilia was in deadly earnest and she opened the first cupboard to reveal shelves packed with neatly folded garments. Another was crammed with ornate gowns hanging from brass hooks. Yet another revealed sets of drawers; some of them filled with lace-trimmed undergarments, while others were overflowing with gloves, scarves and stockings. There were open shelves filled with hats of every description, trimmed with flowers and feathers in rainbow hues. Rose was both dazzled and impressed, but also slightly bewildered.

‘As you can see, I love clothes,’ Cecilia said happily. ‘My maid takes care of everything, but you may have your pick, providing I approve.’

Rose had never seen such a collection of garments belonging to one person – in fact, she had never been in a shop that was more comprehensively stocked. ‘Are you sure about this? I mean, you were pushed into it by your brother.’

‘Gene might try but he could never force me to do anything against my will. You have to treat him like your boss, but he’s just my brother. I’ll leave you to choose, try on anything you take a fancy to and come out and show me.’ Cecilia left Rose alone in the dressing room surrounded by finery that took her breath away. She was beginning to realise that the fashion in London differed from what was considered haute couture in Bendigo, and she began her search for something that was suitable, but not too elaborate.

When she finally emerged wearing a pale-blue silk gown, with a modest neckline and a small bustle, Cecilia shook her head.

‘That’s an afternoon dress, Rose. You need something a little more dashing for the opera, and I think I know exactly which one would suit your glorious copper hair and milky complexion.’ Cecilia jumped to her feet and returned to the dressing room, reappearing moments later with a shimmering armful of gold silk brocade trimmed with delicate tulle roses. ‘Try this one on.’

It was a command rather than an invitation and Rose retreated into the privacy of the dressing room and changed into Cecilia’s choice.

‘Oh, splendid.’ Cecilia clapped her hands when Rose re-emerged. ‘Take a look in the mirror and you’ll see that I was right.’

Rose stepped in front of the cheval mirror, staring in astonishment at her own reflection, although to her eyes it was a stranger who gazed back at her. Cecilia came up behind her and dragged Rose’s unruly curls away from her face, piling them on top of her head so that they fell in a cascade, framing her face and elongating her neck.

‘What a transformation. I can’t wait to see Gene’s face when he sees you dressed up to the nines. That might make him treat you more like a colleague rather than an office boy.’

Rose moved away, allowing her hair to fall back into place. ‘I am very junior at the newspaper, Miss Sheldon. The other employees don’t want to work with a female, and your brother has given me a chance to prove myself. I don’t mind if he calls me Munday. In fact I think it’s a good thing.’

‘Well, well, so you have some spirit after all, Rose. I was beginning to think that you were a doormat, but I can see that I was mistaken.’

‘Don’t think I’m ungrateful, but I can’t wear this,’ Rose said desperately. ‘This gown must have cost a fortune and I’d feel terrible if it got marked or I caught my heel in the hem.’

Cecilia stood back, frowning. ‘You and I are the same size and height. I wonder if my shoes would fit you, because you can’t wear those ugly boots tonight. They don’t go with that gown.’

‘You aren’t listening to me, Miss Sheldon. You’re just like your brother.’

‘I am not at all like Eugene, and don’t call me Miss Sheldon. I’m Cissie to my family and friends, and I want you to be my friend, Rose. I like you and I admire you for standing up to the beastly men in Gene’s office, and I see in you a kindred spirit. We’ll have no arguments about the gown. It doesn’t suit me anyway. In fact I don’t know why I bought it. Gold is your colour, not mine.’

‘You do have lovely dark hair and a beautiful complexion,’ Rose said, nodding. ‘You’re right to wear bright colours – they suit you.’

‘Yes, I know they do, and tonight I’ll wear my crimson shot silk. We’ll turn every head in the Savoy Theatre. I doubt if anyone will be looking at the stage when we’re there.’

Rose was not so sure, but she found herself trying on shoes that were a surprisingly good fit, although ultimately it was Cecilia who made the final choice. Then, having listened intently to Rose’s account of her reasons for leaving home, Cecilia insisted on turning out a quantity of garments, including daywear, underwear and nightwear, all of which she insisted she had not worn for ages, and had no intention of wearing again. She threw in several pairs of shoes and boots, a velvet bonnet and a warm mantle, which she said was last year’s fashion and fit only for the missionary barrel at the local church. She became so enthusiastic that Rose had to put a stop to her burst of generosity, gently but firmly.

‘Oh, very well,’ Cecilia said sulkily. ‘But I rarely do anything for anyone else, and you’ve probably saved my eternal soul from hellfire.’

‘I think you have a lot of living ahead of you, Cissie,’ Rose said, laughing. ‘I don’t think hellfire is waiting for you just yet.’

‘You can laugh, Rose. But I’m serious. I was spoiled by my parents and shamelessly overindulged. Just look around you.’ Cecilia encompassed the room with a wave of her hands. ‘Of course, Papa doesn’t earn a great deal working for the Foreign Office, but Mama inherited a fortune when my grandfather died a few years ago.’

‘You’re very fortunate,’ Rose said smiling. ‘And very kind. I don’t know what I would have done without your brother’s help, and now you’re doing something splendid for someone you’ve only known for an hour or so.’

‘Yes, that does make me sound much nicer than I really am.’ Cecilia picked up a silver-backed brush and began to rearrange Rose’s hair. ‘You shouldn’t wear your hair scraped back into a bun, my dear. That style went out years ago. You’re lucky to have natural curls. I have to sleep with rags in my hair every night because my hair is as straight as rainwater.’

‘You’re very elegant, Cissie. I don’t think you need to worry about your looks.’

‘I don’t really. I know I’m beautiful, everyone says so, but sometimes I feel quite plain and dull. Maybe I should think of going out in the world and earning my own living.’ Cecilia pressed Rose down on a stool in front of a burr-walnut dressing table. ‘I’m going to try a much more flattering style, and you can tell me more about yourself.’

‘I thought I’d told you everything.’

‘You told me about your life in that far-off place, but you must know some people in London, apart from the ones you’ve met recently. I don’t think missionaries or prostitutes are going to help you establish yourself in society.’

‘I was hoping that Max’s sister would help me, but she and her husband are away on a business trip to Australia.’

‘They’re in trade?’ Cecilia’s tone was anything but enthusiastic.

‘The Colville Shipping Company is one of the largest in Britain,’ Rose said stoutly. ‘At least that’s what I was led to believe.’ She could see Cecilia’s reaction in the mirror, and it was obvious that there were degrees of what branch of trade might be considered acceptable.

‘That does make a difference,’ Cecilia said grudgingly. ‘The Colville family are well known for their philanthropic work. In fact I met Caroline Colville and her half-sister, Maria, at a charity function about a year ago. Maria is a few years my senior, but she and I got along so well that we’ve become friends.’

‘Maria Colville?’

‘That’s her maiden name, she married a seafarer and she’s Mrs Barnaby now.’

‘She’s Max’s half-sister.’ Rose twisted round on the stool, facing Cecilia with a tremulous smile. ‘I was only nine years old when I attended her wedding, but I remember it well. Do you know where she lives?’

‘Yes, I do. I visit her quite often and we help to raise money for seamen’s charities. Maria’s husband is away at sea for months on end, sometimes a year or more, and I think she gets lonely with just a housekeeper and her children’s nanny for company.’

‘She might be able to help me,’ Rose said excitedly. ‘Max was going to arrange everything, so he must have told Caroline about us. Maybe she left a message for me with her sister.’

‘There’s only one way to find out. As it happens I’d arranged to have luncheon with Maria next Tuesday. I’ll make Eugene give you time off so that you can join us.’

‘Maybe it would be better if I asked him nicely.’

‘You’ll have to learn how to handle the male of the species, Rose. Especially those akin to my brother, who is as stubborn as the proverbial mule and can be very contrary. I’ll tell him of our arrangement and heaven help him if he refuses to allow you to accompany me.’

Rose turned to the mirror and her reflection gazed back at her with doubtful eyes. She did not share Cecilia’s confidence in her ability to manipulate Eugene. ‘I don’t want to cause trouble between you and your brother,’ she said.

‘Believe me, I’m used to dealing with Gene, and I’m not stupid, Rose. I’ll wait until this evening when he is in a sunny mood and then I’ll ask him.’ Cecilia smiled and nodded. ‘You have to have a strategy when dealing with men like Gene, as you will discover if you’re going to work together with any degree of success.’

Eugene was seated by the fire, reading a copy of The Times when they finally joined him. He folded the newspaper and rose to his feet. ‘At last. I was beginning to think I’d have to send a search party for you two.’

‘Very funny,’ Cecilia said, smiling sweetly. ‘We were just sorting out some of my things for Rose and we lost track of time.’

‘Did you find her a gown for this evening? We need to cut a dash. I don’t want to be outdone by the chaps from the other dailies.’

‘So we’re there for decorative purposes, are we, Gene?’ Cecilia was smiling, but there was an edge to her voice.

‘I’m there to work,’ Rose said quickly. ‘Aren’t I, Guvnor?’

‘Of course you are. Don’t take any notice of my sister. She can be a virago when she wants to be. You are going to write the article, Munday, and we’d best be getting back to the office, or poor Arthur will be having forty fits.’

‘What about tonight, Gene?’ Cecilia demanded. ‘Will you bring Rose here to change?’

He frowned. ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead.’

‘I can’t very well get ready in the office,’ Rose said thoughtfully.

‘I’ll bring her home with me.’ Eugene made for the door. ‘Come on, Munday. We’ll grab a bite to eat on the way to the office.’

‘Why not stay a while and have luncheon with me?’ Cecilia followed them onto the landing. ‘Another hour or so won’t make any difference.’

‘Sorry, Cissie. We have a deadline to meet,’ Eugene called over his shoulder. ‘Hurry up, Munday. There’s work to be done.’

Cecilia was dressed in her finery, waiting for them in a considerable state of agitation when they returned to Tavistock Square that evening. Eugene had been working on a last-minute addition for the morning paper, and there had been several hold-ups during the cab journey when a sudden downpour had caused chaos. An argument between a carter and a hackney cab driver had held up traffic for what seemed like forever, until a police constable strolled up and threatened to arrest both of them. Then a barrel had fallen off a brewer’s dray and had hit the cobblestones with such force that it split, spewing out a fountain of ale. People appeared from nowhere, attempting to catch as much of the amber liquid as they could in mugs, jugs and even bowler hats, while others simply opened their mouths to gulp down the free beer.

It had not been a dull cab ride, but now they were late and Cecilia was fuming. She rushed Rose upstairs and with the help of her maid managed to get her into the tightly fitting gown, coiffed and ready in less than an hour.

‘Wait a moment,’ Cecilia cried as Rose was about to escape. ‘You look splendid but you need some jewellery.’

‘I’m a very junior reporter,’ Rose protested. ‘Who’s going to look at me?’

‘Never say anything like that in my hearing. You have to make the best of yourself whatever the circumstances, Rose Munday.’ Cecilia caught her by the hand and dragged her back into the room. ‘Lindon, fetch my jewel case.’

The harassed maid stopped picking up hairpins that were scattered on the floor and hurried into the dressing room, reappearing seconds later with a rosewood box inlaid with mother-of-pearl. She set it down on the table and stood back while Cecilia rifled through the contents.

‘Sit down, Rose. Let’s see if pearls look best, or maybe a simple velvet choker.’

Rose had learned that to argue with either of the Sheldon siblings was a waste of time and she sat down as obediently as a schoolgirl. She could hear Eugene calling to them from the top of the stairs, but she allowed Cecilia to select several necklaces, settling in the end for a gold chain with a pearl and peridot pendant and matching earrings.

‘There, that’s absolutely splendid. The peridots are virtually the same colour as your eyes.’ Cecilia stood back to admire her handiwork. ‘What do you think, Lindon?’

‘Very nice, Miss Cecilia. Just right for a young lady who isn’t out yet.’

Rose looked from one to the other. ‘That sounds as if I’ve been in prison.’

Lindon raised her eyebrows and Cecilia stifled a giggle.

‘Don’t you know anything about the London Season?’ Cecilia threw up her hands.

‘Maybe you should explain later – the guvnor is growing impatient.’

‘Stop calling him that silly name. He’s Eugene or Mr Sheldon, and for tonight I suggest you use his first name, or it will make a mockery of the whole evening.’ Cecilia turned to Lindon. ‘Fetch our wraps, please. We’ll miss the first act if we don’t hurry.’

Cecilia had been right – heads turned to stare at the two elegant young women who accompanied Eugene Sheldon. Rose was embarrassed to be the centre of attention, but Cecilia was apparently accustomed to creating a grand entrance, and Eugene looked positively dashing in his black tailcoat, bronze silk waistcoat and pristine white shirt. Rose was acutely aware of the admiring glances he received from the ladies present, but Eugene himself seemed oblivious to the sensation he was causing. He stopped every now and then to exchange pleasantries with the men who were standing in small groups, chatting and laughing as if they had known each other all their lives.

‘They’re gentlemen of the press,’ Cecilia said in a whisper as they took their seats. ‘You’d think they were bosom friends, but they would cut each other’s throats if it meant they could be the first to make the headlines.’

Rose was prevented from questioning her further as the orchestra began tuning up and the lights dimmed. Eugene made his way down the aisle and sat down beside her.

‘You’ve created quite a stir, Munday. You polish up like new in that gown.’

‘Hush,’ Cecilia said sternly. ‘The opera is about to start.’

Eugene pulled a face. ‘Wake me up at the interval, Munday. I’m relying on you to get the gist of the story, because I can’t stand this sort of thing.’ He closed his eyes and bowed his head.

Rose glanced anxiously at Cecilia, but her attention was fixed on the stage as the curtain was raised and the overture commenced. As the story unfolded and the music swelled, filling the pale yellow and golden auditorium with mellifluous sound, Rose found herself entranced and enthralled. She barely noticed the gentle snores emanating from Eugene with the rise and fall of his chest, and it was only at the interval that she realised people around them were pointing and laughing. She dug him hard in the ribs.

‘Wake up, Guvnor,’ she hissed. ‘Everyone’s looking at you.’

Cecilia leaned over Rose to prod her brother. ‘Gene, you’re making a fool of yourself and a spectacle of us.’

Eugene opened his eyes. ‘Is it over?’

Cecilia smacked him with her fan. ‘You philistine.’

‘It’s the interval,’ Rose whispered. ‘You were snoring, Guvnor.’

‘I was just resting my eyes.’ Eugene rose to his feet. ‘I’m going to the bar for a tot of whisky. Would you ladies like to join me?’

Cecilia sat bolt upright. ‘No, you’ve embarrassed me enough this evening.’

‘What about you, Munday? You might hear a bit of gossip you could use.’

Rose glanced at Cecilia’s disapproving profile. She was bound to offend one or the other, but if she wanted to be taken seriously as a reporter she knew what she had to do. She stood up, placing the programme on her seat. ‘Yes, all right, Guvnor.’ She was close behind him as he joined the stream of people making their way up the aisle.

‘You might like to start the article with a few words about the splendid electric lighting,’ Eugene said in a low voice as they edged their way towards the bar.

‘It is amazing. Do you think it will catch on?’

‘Almost certainly, and I’ll install electricity at Greenfields, my property in the country, as soon as it becomes possible.’ Eugene placed a protective arm around Rose’s shoulders as they reached the crush at the entrance to the bar.

Rose glanced inside at the sea of male bodies and she refused to move. ‘I think I’d better wait out here. It doesn’t look as though women are welcome in the bar.’

‘Nonsense, you’re with me, Munday. You’re a newspaper man now and you’ll find yourself in places where other females wouldn’t dare to tread.’ He propelled her through the throng of men clamouring for drinks.

Rose tried to look unconcerned, but she felt the colour flooding her cheeks and the remarks she overheard were not flattering.

Eugene ordered a glass of champagne and a whisky and soda, ignoring the disapproving looks from the barman.

‘There you are, Munday.’ He pressed the champagne glass into her hand and raised his drink in a toast. ‘Here’s to your future success.’

‘You shouldn’t bring a lady into a place like this.’ A distinguished-looking man with silver hair and a waxed moustache turned his head to glare at Eugene. ‘We have to draw the line somewhere, Sheldon.’

‘This young woman is a fledgling reporter on my newspaper,’ Eugene said loudly. ‘If anyone has anything to say, then say it to my face.’

A sudden hush seemed to suck the air from the crowded bar.

Rose could feel the undercurrent of resentment swelling like the incoming tide and she raised her glass. ‘I drink to your health, gentlemen. I might be the first female newsperson to enter a predominantly male domain, but I won’t be the last.’ She downed a mouthful of champagne, placed the glass on the counter and marched out of the bar, but when she reached the foyer her courage ebbed and her knees threatened to give way beneath her.

‘Well said, Munday.’ Eugene had followed her and he gave her a brief hug. ‘Maybe I should have patted you on the back as if you were a chap, but you’re a sight for sore eyes. No wonder the fellows were confused.’

‘I shouldn’t have spoken out like that. I’m sorry, Guvnor.’

‘Nonsense, you’ve just written your own headline. Wait there, I’ll fetch my sister and we’ll take a cab to the office. This story will be on the front page in the morning, I can see it now.’ He paused, smiling ruefully. ‘Sorry, Munday, I was forgetting – this is your story. You can call it what you like. Think about it while I get Cissie and retrieve our coats from the cloakroom. You and the redoubtable Millicent Fawcett have a lot in common, but this is your big moment.’

Rose waited anxiously, trying hard to look unconcerned, but she knew she was attracting attention for all the wrong reasons, and she tried to ignore the salacious remarks she received from one man who had obviously drunk far more than was good for him. It was a relief when Eugene appeared, followed by a sulky-looking Cecilia.

‘This is ridiculous, Gene,’ Cecilia snapped. ‘Walking out in the interval is stupid and very bad manners.’

‘Nonsense. This is Munday’s chance to get her piece in the Monday morning paper. The other chaps will do the same thing. Wait there, I’ll get a cab.’ He hurried out into the street.

‘You shouldn’t encourage him,’ Cecilia said, sighing heavily. ‘Gene always manages to create a stir wherever we go.’

‘Then perhaps you should be used to it by now.’ Rose was in no mood to take the blame for something that was beyond her control.

Having taken Cecilia back to Tavistock Square, Eugene and Rose returned to the office where, despite the fact that it was late evening, Rose worked on her review of the opera for Monday’s edition. When both she and Eugene were satisfied with the result, it was left for the typesetters to put into print, and Eugene saw her safely back to Black Raven Court.

‘We must address this problem urgently, Rose,’ he said as he handed her from the cab. ‘I don’t like leaving you here.’

‘I’ll be all right, Guvnor. I’ve got Cora and Flossie looking out for me.’ Rose hoped she sounded more positive than she was feeling as she stepped inside and closed the door.

Having slept for most of Sunday, Rose was up early on Monday morning. She dressed hastily and rushed out to buy a copy of the London Leader from a stall outside Fenchurch Street station. To see her words in print for the very first time would be a thrill, and she could scarcely wait to get back to her room. In her excitement it was even possible to ignore the pangs of hunger that gripped her stomach and the chill of a late autumn morning. With her shawl wrapped around her head and shoulders she trudged back to Black Raven Court. She did not notice Regan until it was too late.

Chapter Seven

Rose came to a sudden halt at the sight of the man who ruled the lives of the women in his house, and was about to turn and run when he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her inside.

‘Cora is a poor liar,’ he said, pressing Rose up against the damp wall. ‘She told me you’d gone, but Nat Regan is nobody’s fool.’

‘I won’t be here much longer. I can pay rent.’

Regan curled his lip. ‘Only girls who work for me are allowed to live here, sweetheart. I got plenty of clients who would pay good money for your favours.’ He glanced at the newspaper she was clutching to her chest. ‘And you can read, too. I ain’t sure that’s a good thing.’

‘Let me go.’ Rose glared at him, too angry now to feel fear. ‘I’m leaving today.’

He pinned her to the wall with surprising strength for a small man. ‘That’s up to me. This is my place and what I says goes.’

‘I’ve got a job, Regan,’ she said boldly. ‘I’m a reporter on this newspaper, and if you don’t get out of my way you’ll find yourself headline news in the next edition.’ It was a vain boast, but it had the desired effect and Regan released her, taking a step backwards.