RAG-AND-BONE CHRISTMAS
Dilly Court

Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

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London SE1 9GF

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

Copyright © Dilly Court 2020

Jacket Photographs: © Gordon Crabb/Alison Eldred (Girl); Heritage Image Partnership Ltd/Alamy Stock Photo (background front cover and back cover); Shutterstock.com (all other images)

Cover design by Claire Ward © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

Dilly Court asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008287870

Ebook Edition © March 2020 ISBN: 9780008287887

Version: 2020-09-02

Dedication

In fond memory of Pippy and Beasley, two canine best friends.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Read on for a sneak peek at Dilly’s brand-new book The Reluctant Heiress

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About the Author

Also by Dilly Court

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Paradise Row, Pentonville, London. December 1865

Snow was falling fast, but even before it floated to the ground its pristine whiteness was tainted by pollution from the black-lead works, and soot from the factory chimneys. The thunderous sounds from the iron foundry, situated a little further along Old St Pancras Road, added to the general hubbub, and steam engines roared in and out of King’s Cross railway station.

Away from all this, as though in a different world, it was quiet and peaceful inside the stable, and comparatively warm. Sally Suggs worked tirelessly to keep the stalls spotlessly clean, and the two animals stabled there were fed only the best hay, with plenty of fresh water to drink. Pa always teased Sally and said it was because she had been born in the stable that she had such an affinity with horses, but she was convinced that she had inherited her talent as a horsewoman from her late mother. Emily Tranter had been a famous equestrienne, who had delighted audiences at Astley’s Amphitheatre until she met and fell in love with young Edward Suggs, the rag-and-bone man.

‘Ain’t you done here yet, girl?’ Ted hobbled in from the yard and took off his cap, sending a dusting of snow onto the floor.

‘Nearly finished, Pa. Then I’ll go to the shop and get us something for our supper.’

‘It’ll be dark soon, love. You know I don’t like you walking out on your own at night, and it’s snowing harder than ever.’

Sally turned to him with a chuckle. ‘Pa, I’m nearly twenty. I’m not a little girl any longer.’

‘You are to me, my duck. You always will be, and I ain’t as fit and healthy as I used to be. My old pins ache something chronic, especially when it’s bitter cold like this.’

‘You should be in the parlour sitting by the fire,’ Sally said severely. ‘You’ve done your bit for today. I won’t be long, I promise.’ She reached up to pat Flower’s sleek neck as the horse nuzzled her shoulder.

‘You’d bring that blooming animal upstairs if she could manage them.’ Ted grumbled but his grey eyes were twinkling. ‘You wrap up warm if you’re going out,’ he added as he opened the door that led to a narrow flight of stairs. His heavy footsteps echoed round the stable, and then there was silence.

‘I would stay with you all night, Flower,’ Sally said, kissing the horse’s soft muzzle. ‘But I have Pa to look after as well as you.’

Flower whickered gently as if in reply, and with a loving pat, Sally turned her attention to Boney, the ageing heavy horse who had pulled their cart through the London streets for the last fifteen years. He was still eager to work, but age was catching up on him and sometimes his joints were stiff, causing him to lumber over the cobblestones as if each step caused him pain. Sally had tried all manner of remedies, including poultices and doses of celery seeds, but in reality she knew that Boney’s working days were numbered, and in a year or two he ought to be put out to pasture – the alternative was the knacker’s yard, and that was unthinkable. Her dream would be a country cottage where her father could enjoy a long retirement, and Boney could end his days in peace.

Sally finished her work in the stable and went outside to make sure that the gates were locked and bolted. Although the items in the yard had been discarded by the former owners they still had a market value, and there were always those who preferred to steal rather than earn their living by honest toil. She hurried back to the comparative warmth of the stable and extinguished the candles. Fires were all too common in places such as this, and everything had to be kept out of reach of the horses. A lamp left burning might easily be overturned by a frisky horse, and the whole place would go up in flames.

Sally gave Flower a last affectionate pat on the head before slipping on her well-worn tweed jacket, and tucking her hair into one of her father’s old caps. Fashion had little or no place in Paradise Row, especially when working in the scrap yard or the stable. Ever practical, Sally wore a pair of patched breeches that she had come across in one of the sacks, and a pair of lace-up boots that had also seen better days, but were still reasonably wearable. She picked up a wicker basket and let herself out into the street, locking the door behind her. A cold wind sent wisps of hay, rotting cabbage leaves and scraps of paper scudding down the road, adding sharp teeth to the swirling snow, and she pulled up her collar, wrapping her arms around her thin body.

‘I was hoping I’d be in time to catch you, Sal.’

A cheery voice made her stop and turn her head. ‘Oh, it’s you, Josie. Is it your half day?’

Josie’s wide mouth curved in a mischievous grin. ‘I slipped out when Cook fell asleep after drinking half a bottle of gin.’

‘She’ll get caught one day and you’ll be in trouble for keeping the truth from Mrs Grindle.’

‘I don’t care. I’m looking for another position anyway. I’m fed up with working all hours for less than eight pounds a year, and only one half day off a month. The Grindles treat us servants like slaves.’

‘What else could you do, Josie? You might end up worse off with a master who beats you, or …’ Sally lowered her voice as they passed a group of workmen, all of whom were ogling them and whistling. ‘You know what I mean, and they’re a fine example of what men think of girls like us.’

Josie tossed her head. ‘I spit on their kind. One day I’m going to marry a decent man who’ll treat me like a lady, not a common slut. I got me pride, Sally.’ She poked her tongue out at a man who had loitered behind his mates to proposition her, but he laughed and slapped her on the buttocks.

‘Come home with me and have a bit of supper,’ Sally suggested hastily. ‘Ignore him, Josie. His sort aren’t worth bothering about.’ She turned her head to glare at the man, who was laughing uproariously. ‘I know your wife, Sidney Jones. She won’t find it funny when I tell her what you just did to my friend.’

His answer was lost in the loud blare of a factory hooter in the region of the railway station.

‘I don’t care about the likes of him,’ Josie said, wrinkling her snub nose. ‘Ta for the invite to supper, love, but I’m meeting Ned when he comes off his shift at the gas works.’

‘You do know that he’s married, don’t you, Josie?’ Sally came to a halt, grasping her friend’s hand. ‘I’m not judging you, but I don’t want to see you get hurt.’

Josie laughed and squeezed Sally’s fingers. ‘You worry too much. It’s just a bit of fun. We’ll shelter under the railway arches and have a kiss and a cuddle, and then he’ll go home to his missis a much happier man, and I’ll go back to Grindles’ hell.’ Josie’s smile faded. ‘I like him a lot, Sally. He’s the best thing that’s happened to me in years.’

‘And that’s what worries me. Don’t get too involved – you’re the one who’ll suffer when it ends.’

‘Ta for the advice, but I’m a big girl now. He’s good for a laugh.’ Josie pulled her shawl round her head and hurried off in the direction of the gas works, leaving Sally to make her way to the grocer’s shop on the corner. Old man Jarvis was behind the counter as usual, and his gloomy expression seemed to have been painted indelibly on his wrinkled features. His bald pate gleamed in the lamplight as did the tip of his red nose. Sally had always suspected that he kept a bottle of spirits hidden beneath the counter, taking a nip or two when he thought no one was watching. The smell of gin hung in the cloud above his head, mingling with the aroma of roast coffee beans and the sawdust that was scattered over the bare floorboards.

Sally purchased a loaf of bread and two meat pies.

‘Will that be all?’ Jarvis demanded testily. ‘Got some fresh eggs brought in from a farm today. You won’t get none tastier than these.’

Sally hesitated. Pa was always partial to a boiled egg for his breakfast and that justified the extra expenditure. ‘I’ll take two, please.’

Jarvis wrapped the eggs in a page torn from yesterday’s copy of The Times and placed them in Sally’s basket. ‘That’ll be elevenpence ha’penny.’

Sally placed a shilling on the counter and waited for the halfpenny change. It was the last of the money that Pa had given her from the profit he made selling the last lot of rags to Rags Roper, the cloth merchant. She put the halfpenny in her purse.

‘Good evening, Mr Jarvis.’

‘Good evening, Miss Suggs.’

She left the shop and pulled her cap down over her forehead in an attempt to shield her eyes from the driving snow. The horse-drawn traffic rumbled past and the clock on the St Pancras Church was booming out the hour. It was no wonder she failed to hear the approaching footsteps. She cannoned into the man who was struggling to open his umbrella, and the force of the encounter sent her purchases flying out of the basket onto the snowy pavement.

‘Look where you’re going!’ Sally cried angrily. ‘That’s my supper lying on the ground.’

‘You barged into me, you stupid boy.’ The man lowered his umbrella, staring at her in the flickering light of the street lamp. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, miss. Are you hurt?’

‘No,’ Sally said reluctantly. ‘But the eggs are smashed and the pies are covered in slush. That’s our supper you’ve ruined and my pa will be furious.’ She tilted her head back to glare at the man, who was dressed like a country gentleman, which was decidedly out of place in this part of London. He was younger than she had supposed, and his rugged features were creased in a worried frown.

‘I am truly sorry.’ He held out his hand. ‘I was also at fault. You must allow me to reimburse you for the groceries.’

Sally looked down at the shattered eggs and pies; even if she had wanted to rescue them, she was too late. Two half-feral dogs sprang from seemingly nowhere and pounced on the food, growling ferociously as they vanished into the shadows with their bounty. She had eaten very little that day and the temptation to accept his offer was overwhelming.

‘Thank you,’ she said reluctantly. ‘It cost me elevenpence ha’penny.’

He put his hand in his pocket and took out a handful of small change. ‘Here’s a shilling, with my apologies.’

She took the halfpenny from her purse and exchanged it for the shiny silver coin. ‘Normally I wouldn’t accept,’ she said gruffly. ‘But as it happens I’m a bit short of the readies at the moment, so thanks again.’ She turned away in case he changed his mind and she hurried back to the shop to repeat her order to a surprised Mr Jarvis.

‘You’ve taken your time.’ Ted looked up from the crumpled newspaper he had been attempting to read by the light of a candle stub and the glow from the coal fire. ‘I’m starving. What kept you?’

Sally placed her basket on the table and unpacked the contents. ‘I had a slight mishap on the way home from old Jarvis’s shop, so I had to go back and get two more pies and a couple of eggs.’ She took out a small cob loaf. ‘And he must have felt sorry for me because he threw in the bread for nuppence.’

‘It’s probably stale then. Frank Jarvis never gives anything away, the old skinflint.’ Ted smoothed the creased newspaper, peering short-sightedly at the print. ‘One day I’ll make enough money to buy a paper every day, instead of reading what other folks have thrown out.’

‘Yes, that would be nice, Pa.’ Sally took off her sodden jacket and cap, shaking out her long, dark hair.

Ted eyed her curiously. ‘You still haven’t told me what happened between here and Jarvis’s shop.’

‘It was snowing so hard that we didn’t see each other until it was too late and he nearly knocked me over – well, to be fair I wasn’t looking either. Anyway, the food went flying and landed on the pavement, and then, to cap it all, a couple of stray dogs wolfed the pies.’

‘But you wasn’t hurt, love?’

‘Only my pride, Pa. And the fellow paid up, so I went back to the shop and we have supper after all.’

‘You was lucky to meet a gentleman, that’s all I can say. There’s many who wouldn’t be so generous.’

Sally took two plates from the dresser that her father had constructed from an old chest of drawers and some wooden shelving. ‘Here you are. Enjoy the pie and I’ll put the kettle on.’

‘You’re a good girl, Sal. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

She smiled and placed the kettle on the trivet in front of the fire. ‘You’ll never have to find out, Pa. We’re a team, you and me, not forgetting Boney and Flower, of course.’

‘Sit down and eat your supper.’ Ted shifted uneasily in his chair. ‘I think you’ll have to take the cart out on your own tomorrow, love. My joints are playing up something terrible tonight. I doubt if I’ll be able to get downstairs in the morning, let alone do me rounds.’

‘It won’t be the first time, Pa. I know the route like the back of my hand.’

‘Just leave the heaviest things for Kelly. He’ll love that,’ Ted added grudgingly. ‘He’s always trying to get one up on me.’

‘Don’t worry. I can handle Kelly. He won’t get the better of me. That’s a promise.’

Next morning Sally was up before dawn. It was cold and dark in her tiny bedroom, with space only for a narrow iron bedstead and a single chest of drawers, which doubled up as a washstand. She dressed hastily in her working clothes and went downstairs to the back yard to use the privy and draw water from the pump. It had stopped snowing, and a hard frost had turned the surface into a sheet of ice.

Her first task was to clean the stable, and then she fed and watered the horses. Flower always greeted Sally with affectionate nuzzling of her hand, and Boney pawed the ground, waiting for his food. When she was satisfied that the animals wanted for nothing, she went upstairs to do her chores before starting the day’s work. Having cleared the ashes from the grate she lit the fire and put the eggs on to boil while she toasted slices of stale bread. There was a scraping of butter left in the dish, and she spread it on a piece of toast, cutting it into fingers as her father had done for her when she was a child.

The back room where Ted slept in a truckle bed below the eaves was little bigger than a cupboard. The accommodation over the stable was not spacious, but it had been the only home Sally had ever known, and she had done her best to make it as comfortable as limited means would allow. The gaily coloured patchwork coverlet was all her own work, and had taken many hours of cutting squares from the clothes discarded by the wealthier people in the neighbourhood, and even more hours spent patiently sewing them together. Sally was proud of her efforts and the quilt brightened the small room.

‘How are you today, Pa?’ Sally asked anxiously as she placed the tray on the floor beside his bed.

Ted heaved himself to a semi-sitting position. ‘You know how it is, love. I’d get up if I could but me joints are playing up something chronic in this cold weather.’

Sally helped him to a sitting position and placed a couple of pillows behind him. Despite having hung them out last summer for days on end in the fresh air, there was still a lingering odour of the sickroom in the fabric and feather stuffing. It was fortunate that her father had lost his sense of smell after many years of handling noxious substances when he had worked on the great dust heap at Battle Bridge before its eventual removal.

‘There, is that better?’ She placed a tray on his lap. ‘I’m afraid that’s the last of the butter, but I’ll get some this evening on my way home. Let’s hope I have a good day.’

‘Don’t let anyone take advantage of you, love. I’ll try to get down to the yard later on. If I can just sort out the white material from the coloured rags it’ll be a help. You get more money if the stuff isn’t dyed.’

‘Yes, Pa. I know that, but you ought to stay indoors in weather like this. We don’t want you having a fall and breaking your leg or worse.’

‘But I don’t like leaving everything to you, love.’

‘Don’t worry about me, Pa. I know what I’m doing and I’ll be fine.’

‘You’re a good girl, Sal. I’m lucky to have you for a daughter.’

She leaned over to drop a kiss on his grey head. ‘I love you, too, Pa. Now eat up and I’ll bring you a nice hot cup of tea before I go out.’

* * *

Half an hour later Sally had Boney harnessed to the cart and she drove out onto Paradise Row. It was still early but the night-shift workers were shuffling home to their beds, barely acknowledging their neighbours, who were hurrying to their place of employment to begin their twelve- or fourteen-hour day. The street was lined with tenements, housing countless numbers of lodgers. There were large families crowded into one small room, single working men, who came off the night shift and climbed into a bed recently vacated by the workers who had left for the day’s toil in the manufactories. Mothers with babies in their arms and toddlers clinging to their skirts packed their older children off to work anywhere they could earn a few pennies a day. There was little money to go round in Paradise Row and many women, whether married or single, were forced out onto the streets at night in sheer desperation, selling themselves to anyone with a few coppers to spare. Others were addicted to drink or opium, but Sally had seen too much poverty to be judgemental. She raised her hand in acknowledgement to those who had the time or the energy to greet her as she drove past. It would soon be Christmas, but there was little likelihood of much celebration in this street.

She encouraged Boney to walk a little faster than his customary plodding, but the old horse merely flicked his ears and continued to move at his own speed. Sally guided him towards the more affluent areas south of Tavistock Square. Each day she and her father took different routes, having worked out where they might miss their rival totters. Finn Kelly was the one who gave them most trouble. His family had escaped the great famine in Ireland of 1845 and Finn had arrived in London as a child of eight – that was the extent of Sally’s knowledge about his background. What she did know was that he was a rival to be reckoned with, and he used his innate Irish charm and blarney to wheedle goods out of householders where Ted might have failed miserably. Sally was determined to do better than her father, and to beat Kelly at his own game.

When the cart entered the residential area, Sally cleared her throat and sang out, ‘Any old rag and bones?’ Unfortunately her voice was drowned out by the sound of horses’ hoofs and the rumble of wheels. Hansom cabs and Hackney carriages vied with tradesmen’s vehicles and brewers’ drays. Street sellers cried their wares and they had more powerful voices than Sally, but she persevered, ringing the large hand bell that her father kept for the purpose of attracting attention.

After three hours Sally was beginning to get dispirited. The cart was less than a quarter full and it was mainly rags and sacks filled with cinders and ash from coal fires. Although these items had a small commercial value, she was not going to make more than a few pennies from the entire collection. She decided on a change of tactic and steered Boney away from the residential area, heading towards the factories that had grown up around the Regent’s Canal. She was doing a little better, having managed to persuade the owner of the knacker’s yard to give her several sacks of old bones, but when she approached the sawmill she was dismayed to see the tall figure of her archrival standing by his cart, smoking a cheroot while he chatted to the foreman.

She made a wide sweep, guiding Boney to amble in the opposite direction, but Kelly had turned his head and he had seen her. He tipped his battered top hat, and Sally was amused to see a sprig of holly and one of mistletoe tucked into the hatband. That, together with a multi-coloured striped muffler wound round his neck, gave him a raffish look, and he was grinning widely. He tossed the stub of his cigar onto the ground and stamped on it.

‘You’re too late, Sally Suggs. I beat you to it, as usual.’

Sally was about to retaliate when a small dog raced towards Boney, barking excitedly. Normally placid and slightly deaf after years of working in almost ceaseless noise, Boney reared in the shafts almost unseating Sally. The fluffy-haired mongrel seemed to think that this was a game, and continued to harass the startled horse so that the cart was in real danger of overturning. She was on her feet, struggling to keep hold of the reins in an attempt to calm Boney, when Kelly appeared at the horse’s head and seized the reins.

‘Whoa, boy. Steady, old fellow.’ Still holding the reins, Kelly bent down and scooped the dog up in one arm. ‘And you can shut up, little miss. Take on someone your own size.’

Sally sank down on the seat, watching in amazement as the dog licked Kelly’s tanned cheek. ‘Thanks, Kelly,’ she said reluctantly. ‘But I could have handled my horse.’

‘Sure you could, and you’d have ended up on the cobblestones with a broken collarbone,’ Kelly said, chuckling. He released Boney and thrust the wriggling dog into Sally’s arms. ‘I think this little lady is your problem.’

‘I don’t want her,’ Sally protested, turning her head as the little animal tried to lick her face. ‘She must belong to someone.’

Kelly put his head on one side, his periwinkle-blue eyes twinkling. He was obviously enjoying her discomfort. ‘Well now, I doubt that. Look at her, Sal. She’s all skin and bone and I daresay she’s running with vermin, but I’ll put her on the ground if you wish, although I can’t guarantee she won’t frighten your old nag again.’

‘Don’t you dare.’ Sally scowled at him, but she kept a tight hold on the dog. Kelly was right; she could feel the small terrier-type mongrel’s ribs through her matted fur, and her big brown eyes were enough to melt the hardest heart.

‘Where’s Ted?’ Kelly’s smile faded. ‘He must be off colour if he’s let you go out on your own.’

‘He’s all right,’ Sally said defensively. ‘Well, his rheumatics are playing him up, but he’ll be back on his rounds tomorrow.’

Kelly eyed her speculatively. ‘Tell you what, I’ll throw in some of the wood chippings that I don’t need.’

‘Why would you do that? You never do anything for nothing.’

He clasped his hands to his heart. ‘You do me a great wrong, mavourneen. Haven’t I always been a good friend to you and your respected pa?’

‘No, you haven’t. And stop calling me mavourneen, whatever that means. You would sell your own grandmother if you thought it would make you some money.’

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘I’d have to dig the poor old soul up first, and I doubt if she’d make much money in that state.’

‘You’re disgusting.’ Sally tried to sound angry but it was difficult with the dog writhing around in her arms and doing her best to lick her face.

‘Perhaps, but you want to laugh, I know you do. Anyway, your dada helped me out once when I was young and green, so call this repayment for his kindness.’ Kelly doffed his top hat and brushed a strand of dark hair back from his forehead. He put his hat on at a jaunty angle and strolled off to have a word with the foreman, who had emerged from the mill followed by two burly men hefting sacks of wood shavings.

Sally was tempted to refuse his generous offer, but the thought of returning home with little to show for a day’s work was even worse than accepting charity from Finn Kelly. She eyed him warily as he approached with a sack slung casually over his shoulder.

‘Wait here, mavourneen.’ He hefted the sack onto the cart as easily as if it had been filled with feathers. ‘There are a few more to come. You’ll thank me for this one day, you know you will.’ He winked and beckoned to the workmen, leaving Sally speechless for once. She quite literally had her hands full while the men loaded the sacks onto the cart as her new friend kept wriggling and trying to lick her face. In the end Sally set her down on a pile of rags.

‘Walk on, Boney.’ Sally did not look back to see if Kelly was watching her drive away, and she did not know whether to feel annoyed or grateful for his help. One thing was certain, he had added to her problems. What Pa would say when she arrived home with a flea-bitten mongrel was another matter.

Chapter Two

‘Are you out of your mind, girl?’ Ted glared at the small dog as it explored the small parlour, sniffing in corners and scratching at holes in the skirting board. ‘Take that little brute back to where you found it.’

‘I can’t do that, Pa. She’s obviously a stray and unwanted. She’ll end up at the bottom of the canal if I don’t look after her.’

‘Well take it down to the yard and give it a bath or we’ll be infested with fleas.’

‘Does that mean I can keep her?’

Ted shrugged and turned his head to stare into the fire. ‘Would it make any difference if I said no?’

Sally leaned over to drop a kiss on his grizzled hair. ‘Thanks, Pa. I’ll give her a bath and then I’ll go out and get us some hot pea soup and some fried fish as a treat.’

‘Where’d you get the money for such luxuries?’ Ted asked suspiciously.

Sally smiled triumphantly. ‘I sold five sacks of wood chippings to the factory where they specialise in fake raspberry pips to add to jam, and they make wooden seeds to boost the profits of the seed merchants.’

‘I don’t know if I hold with such practices.’ Ted sighed. ‘But we all have to get by, so well done, Sal. I could do with some hot soup, and I have a yearning for some fried fish.’

Sally picked up the dog. ‘It was all because of her. If she hadn’t startled Boney and made him rear up, I doubt if Kelly would have been so keen to help.’ She held the dog at arm’s length. ‘Raspberry pips earned us our supper and all because of you – Pippy. That’s a good name, Pa. We’ll call her Pippy because she’s brought us good luck.’

‘I’ve got several names for the mongrel and none of ’em repeatable in front of a young lady. Get the blooming animal bathed and then fetch my supper, girl. I’m starving.’

With a gleeful chuckle, Sally scooped up Pippy and took her downstairs to the stable, where she bathed her and rinsed her in diluted vinegar to kill the fleas. She left Pippy to shake and race round while she sorted the rags into their different piles, finally storing them in sacks beneath a tarpaulin in the back yard. When she had enough she would take them to the Rags Roper, and he would pay two to three pence a pound for the white rag, the coloured material being a little cheaper. The same price applied to the bones, some of which would be used in the manufacture of cutlery handles, while others were sold to the glue or soap factories. Rags would doubtless make twice as much, but that was the way business worked.

‘Come, Pippy,’ Sally called hopefully, having lost sight of the small dog amongst the crates, sacks and barrels in the yard. With a sharp bark Pippy emerged from behind a pile of snow-covered wood and bounded over to Sally, her pink tongue lolling out of the corner of her mouth as if she were laughing. Sally picked her up and gave her a cuddle, even though the dog’s fur was still damp. ‘You and I are going to be the best of friends, Pippy. But I’d better leave you with Pa while I go out to buy food, and I’ll bring back something for you, too.’

Next day Sally did the rounds with only Pippy for company. After her bath the previous evening, the little dog was now white and fluffy with brown ears and what seemed to be a permanent grin on her face. She sat upright on the seat next to Sally, and every time they stopped and were approached by a man, whether he was young or old, a foreman or a labourer, Pippy’s hackles rose and she growled deep in the back of her throat. Sally laughed it off, giving the dog a casual pat, but secretly she was pleased to have a protector. Pippy was small but she had needle-sharp teeth, and Sally was convinced that she would see off anyone who posed a threat. She had already proved her worth as a ratter and had found a nest in the yard, which she disposed of straight away. Pippy seemed intent on earning her living and Sally was delighted with her new friend.

Sally guided Boney through the crowded streets. People were rushing about concentrating on their preparations for Christmas Day and trade was poor, and no matter how loudly Sally shouted or how hard she rang her hand bell, there was little response from either householders or the businesses on her route. There was another reason for this, which became clear when she caught up with Kelly, whose cart was piled high with items he had collected.

Sally drew Boney to a halt. ‘What are you doing, Kelly? This is Pa’s round, not yours.’

He hefted a sack onto the cart. ‘First come, first served, mavourneen. You know that.’

‘No, I don’t. I thought you and Pa had a gentleman’s agreement.’ Sally bit her lip. She could tell by the smirk on Kelly’s face that he was going to make fun of her.

‘But, as you’ve often pointed out – I’m no gentleman.’ Kelly reached up to stroke Pippy, and to Sally’s chagrin, the small dog wagged her tail and licked Kelly’s hand.

‘She’s obviously a poor judge of character,’ Sally said crossly. ‘You’re not playing fair, Kelly. Pa’s done this round for years.’

‘Didn’t I help you out yesterday, mavourneen? You’ll have earned a few shillings from the sacks of wood chippings, I’ll be bound.’

‘You did help me yesterday, but that doesn’t excuse what you’ve done today.’ Sally glanced over her shoulder at the few things scattered on the bottom of the cart. ‘It’s getting late and that’s all I have to show for a day’s work.’

But Kelly did not appear to be listening. He was studying Sally’s horse and a frown creased his brow as he ran his hands over Boney’s body. ‘You’ll be lucky to get this fellow back to the stable tonight.’

‘Why? What’s the matter with him?’ Sally climbed down from the driver’s seat and went to stand beside Kelly. ‘He’s panting a bit, but he’s an old boy.’

Kelly gave her a pitying glance. ‘I’ve been handling horses all my life, girl. I know when a heavy horse like him needs to be put out to pasture, or sent to the knacker’s yard.’

‘Never!’ Sally cried angrily. ‘I couldn’t do that to him.’

‘Tell your da what I said, Sally. He’s had enough experience of horseflesh to know that I’m telling the truth.’

‘But without Boney we have no way of earning a living.’

‘I’m sorry. I really am, but this is no business for a young woman like you. It’s a rough old world and there aren’t too many gents like me around.’

Sally knew he was mocking himself, but she was too upset to appreciate his sense of humour. ‘Thanks, Kelly. I mustn’t keep you, and I need to get on. Tell me where you’re going and I’ll drive in the opposite direction.’

He shrugged. ‘I’m finishing for the day, mavourneen. There’s a Christmas bowl of rum punch waiting for me at the Nag’s Head, so you can have the rest of the round, but take my advice and don’t push the old horse too far.’ Kelly patted Boney on the neck before heading back to his cart. He climbed nimbly onto the driver’s seat. ‘Remember what I said.’ He drove off before Sally had a chance to respond.

She stroked Boney’s nose. ‘You’ll be all right, won’t you, old chap? I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.’ She bent down and picked up Pippy, placing the small dog in the footwell before resuming her seat and taking the reins. ‘Walk on, Boney.’

Sally was careful not to push the aged horse too far, and she did manage to pick up several sacks of rags and some scrap iron, but as she drove homewards along a snowy Great College Street she became aware that Boney was flagging. He stumbled a couple of times and eventually came to a halt, his head down and his breathing laboured. Sally leaped to the ground and went round to hold the reins, talking to him softly, as she had always done, but he seemed oblivious to everything. They were only a few yards away from the Veterinary College and Sally walked very slowly, leading Boney by the head. Traffic thundered past them, some of the drivers shouting impatiently, while others whipped their horses to a dangerously brisk pace in order to get past them.

‘Ignore them, Boney,’ Sally whispered, stroking his soft muzzle. ‘I’ll get help and you’ll be as right as rain.’ She was not sure whether she believed her own words, but it kept her spirits up until they were inside the gates of the college. She left Boney, safe in the knowledge that he would wait patiently for her return, but his breathing was even more laboured than before and she feared the worst. She hurried across the courtyard and entered the main building, gazing around in near panic. Pippy had followed her and she growled menacingly as the doorman approached. His expression was not encouraging. ‘What do you want, lad? This here is a college for gentleman veterinarians. I think you’re in the wrong place. You’d best go and take that mongrel with you.’

‘Pippy, sit,’ Sally commanded, and to her surprise the dog obeyed, although she kept eyeing the doorman and growling deep in her throat. Sally cleared her throat ‘I’m not a boy, and I need help, mister. My horse is very sick and it’s snowing. He’ll freeze to death in these conditions.’

‘Like I said, miss. This is a teaching institution, the best in Europe, so I’m reliably told.’

‘I’m sure it is, but this is an emergency. Isn’t there someone who could take a look at my animal? I think he might die and then what would you do. He’s in the courtyard.’

‘Very irregular, miss.’ The doorman shook his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth. He turned his head at the sound of footsteps. ‘Ah. This gentleman might set you right. Mr Lawrence, sir. This young lady says her sick horse is in the courtyard. I’ve told her this ain’t no animal hospital, but she won’t budge and she’s got that ferocious animal with her.’

Sally spun round and stared at the young man. His tweed jacket and country-style clothes were familiar, and when he came closer she remembered where she had seen him. ‘It’s you,’ she said lamely.

‘The young lady with the basket of pies.’

‘Yes, thank you for reimbursing me,’ Sally said politely.

He held out his hand. ‘Gideon Lawrence. What can I do for you?’

‘I’m Sally Suggs and my horse is sick. I think he’s dying and I don’t know what to do for him.’

‘I told her this is a teaching institution, sir.’ The doorman pursed his lips, glaring at Sally in open disapproval. ‘No dogs allowed.’

‘Nevertheless, Hopkins, I am a qualified veterinary surgeon, and I will do my best for the poor animal. Come with me, Miss Suggs.’

More relieved than she cared to admit, Sally followed him outside into the courtyard, with Pippy gambolling at her heels. She stood back watching in awe as Gideon examined Boney, talking softly to calm the frightened horse.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ Sally asked anxiously. ‘I’ve never seen him like this.’

‘How old is he?’

‘Nearly twenty, so I was told.’

‘That explains it then.’ Gideon glanced at the goods in the cart and shook his head. ‘I’m afraid his days of working the city streets are at an end, Miss Suggs.’

Sally stared at him in dismay. ‘But he’s well looked after, Mr Lawrence. Can’t you make him better?’

‘I can do nothing to combat old age. This old chap needs to be put out to pasture or …’

‘No,’ Sally cried passionately. ‘Not the knacker’s yard. I’ll find somewhere for him, although I don’t know how I’ll go about it.’

Gideon eyed her thoughtfully. ‘Where is he stabled at present?’

‘My pa rents a scrap yard in Paradise Row. We live there, so there’s always someone to look after the horses.’

‘Well, this old chap needs a good rest, but I don’t think he’s going to make it back to Paradise Row this afternoon.’

Sally threw her arms around Boney’s neck and hugged him. ‘It will break Pa’s heart.’

‘You say you have another horse. Will you be able to continue your business?’

‘With Flower?’ Sally chuckled in spite of her heavy heart. ‘My Flower is a thoroughbred Andalusian. She’s a delicate creature and she couldn’t pull a cart to save her life.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Sally met his puzzled gaze with a smile. ‘You’re wondering why a rag-and-bone man would own a valuable animal like Flower.’

‘I wouldn’t have put it quite like that, but I suppose I was thinking along those lines.’

‘My mother was a performer at Astley’s Amphitheatre. She taught me to ride before I could walk, but a bad fall put paid to her career.’

‘Again, I’m very sorry to hear that.’

‘She died a couple of years later.’ Sally stared down at her booted feet. Talking about her loss always brought tears to her eyes. She sniffed and took a deep breath. ‘I was just fourteen at the time, and I’ve looked after Pa ever since.’

‘Was Flower your mother’s horse?’

Sally shook her head. ‘Ma’s horse Gaia was sold to the owner of Astley’s, and he allowed us to keep her foal in part payment, as he owned the sire – another Andalusian. Pa wanted to take the money instead, but he saw how much it meant to me, and he allowed me to keep Flower.’

‘She must be a very special horse. Andalusians are almost impossible to come by these days.’

‘She means so much to me. I used to dream of following in Ma’s footsteps and riding Flower in front of adoring crowds at Astley’s, but I have to be practical and look after Pa.’ Sally looked away. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. It’s just a childish fantasy.’

‘I can’t say I’ve ever felt so strongly about anything.’ Gideon gave her a searching look. ‘But perhaps I can help you, after all.’

‘Really? Can you give Boney something to make him strong again?’

A smile crinkled the corners of Gideon’s warm brown eyes. ‘I wish that were possible. But what I can do is to keep Boney here for a while. He’ll have every care taken of him, and he’ll be good practice for my students.’

‘That’s kind of you,’ Sally said doubtfully. ‘But I have to get the cart home. I can’t pull it myself.’

‘I should think not.’ Gideon frowned thoughtfully. ‘We have several horses in the stables here. If you promise to return him tomorrow, I’ll let you have Major. He’s a heavy horse like Boney, and he’ll get you and the cart back to Paradise Row, but he belongs to the college so I’m afraid you won’t be able to use him on your rounds.’

‘I understand.’ Sally was torn between wanting to take Boney home and the practicality of returning the heavy cart to the stable.

‘Boney might well have a heart attack and die, if you make him pull that cart back to Paradise Row. He’ll be well cared for here, but he really needs to spend the rest of his days at pasture.’

Sally sighed and shook her head. ‘That’s not possible. I wish it were.’

‘I might have somewhere in mind.’

‘It’s very kind of you but we can’t afford to pay.’

‘That wouldn’t be a problem, but you don’t want to leave Boney here, I can see that; however, I give you my word that he will have the best attention. We can’t turn back time, but we can ensure that the old fellow has a chance to recover.’

‘Yes, I suppose so. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but he’ll be scared without me. I’ve slept in the stable with him before now, if he’s been poorly.’

‘If you try to take him home now, I doubt if he’ll make it to the end of the street. It’s up to you.’

‘Pa will be very upset.’

‘Would you like me to come with you? I could explain things in detail to your father.’

‘No, thank you. I’m the best one to break the news to him. We’ll manage somehow.’

‘Then let’s unharness the poor old chap and I’ll take him to the stable. If you’d like to come with me, I’ll introduce you to Major. He’s a docile animal, used to being the centre of attention, so he won’t give you any trouble, which is more than I can say for your dog.’ Pippy had been racing around the courtyard, but she came to a halt at Gideon’s feet and he bent down to scoop her up. ‘Behave, little lady.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Sally said hastily. ‘I only came across Pippy yesterday and she adopted me rather than the other way around. But she’s a good dog really.’

‘I can see that. She’s young and she’s intelligent. She just needs a firm hand.’ Gideon passed Pippy to Sally. ‘I’ll look after Boney, but you’d better not bring your dog into the stables. She’ll no doubt cause mayhem there.’ He unharnessed Boney, leaving Sally to secure Pippy to the cart with a length of rope.

‘Stay there and be a good girl,’ Sally said firmly. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’ She shot a sideways glance at Gideon. ‘I suppose you think I’m silly, talking to a stray dog like this.’

He laughed. ‘No, you’re quite right. She might not understand the words yet, but the tone of your voice will no doubt be a comfort to her. Follow me, Miss Suggs.’

When Sally broke the news to her father she could see that he was more upset than he would admit.

‘Boney has done us well over the years,’ he said gloomily. ‘We old men should retire.’

‘Don’t say things like that, Pa. You’re not old.’

Ted shook his head. ‘I feel ancient sometimes, love. My whole body aches and I know I ain’t the man I was. Me and Boney should be put to pasture together.’

‘I won’t allow you to think that way.’

‘This is the end of our business, Sal. We can’t carry on without Boney.’

Sally thought of Major, the splendid Shire horse who was now eating his way through as much hay as poor old Boney might consume in several days. She would have to return Major to the college tomorrow, but what then? The truth hit her like a lightning bolt. ‘No, Pa. We can’t sell Flower.’

‘I’m sorry, love. It’s that or the workhouse for us. You know it’s the last thing I would want …’ Ted broke off, his eyes reddened and moist with unshed tears. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Sal. What else can we do?’

‘I don’t know. Anything, but that. I could get a job at Astley’s like my mother. I can ride well.’

‘You’d be up against real professionals, Sal. Your ma was a wonderful performer, but in the end the riding killed her.’

‘The fall did that, Pa. She could have fallen downstairs and hurt herself just as badly.’

‘Well, all that is in the past, sad as it is. I hope to join your mother one day soon, and then I’ll be a happy man.’

‘Don’t talk like that.’ Sally gazed at her father and saw him suddenly as an old man. This last shock seemed to have sapped the life from him, and he appeared to have shrunk like a wizened apple. ‘Forget what I said. We’ll get another heavy horse. Maybe I can sell something to raise the money.’ She looked round the small room with its shabby sofa and worn armchair. The square table set beneath the window was propped up by a book under one broken leg, and the clock on the mantelshelf had stopped, yet again. Like almost everything else in the room it seemed old, tired and ready to go back to the scrap heap.

‘You’ll have to face it, love. Flower has to go to Tattersalls. They’ll get a good price for her, and maybe Kelly would like to make an offer for the cart.’

Sally felt her whole world slipping away beneath her feet. She sat down beside her father and clutched his hand. ‘I can do the round until you’re better, Pa. We’ll get another horse and I’ll work twice as hard, you’ll see.’ She stroked Pippy, who had leaped upon her lap and was trying to lick her face.

‘That dog will have to go, too.’ Ted glowered at Pippy. ‘We can’t afford to feed her, and she’s no use to man nor beast.’

‘She’s a good ratter,’ Sally protested. ‘She’ll earn her keep, as will I.’

‘That’s enough.’ Ted shook his hand free from her grasp. ‘I knows you mean well, love. But the rag-and-bone business ain’t for a young woman on her own, and I don’t see meself going back on the rounds.’

‘You’ll get better, Pa. We’ll get the doctor to look at you and maybe he can give you something to ease your aching bones.’

‘Maybe.’ Ted raised himself with difficulty. ‘I’m going to me bed, love.’

‘Good night, Pa.’ Sally watched her father hobble towards the door which led to his tiny bedroom. Her own bed was beneath the eaves on the opposite side of the building to where her father slept, with the living room in between. In the summer she could look through the cracks where the roof tiles had slipped and see the stars. In winter she had to wear her coat in bed and wrap a shawl around her head. If it rained she slept beneath a tarpaulin, and no matter how many times they reported the leaking roof to the landlord, nothing had ever been done. She knew that she would sleep little that night, and instead of getting ready for bed, she went downstairs to the stable with Pippy at her heels. Flower greeted her with a soft whinny and Major turned his head to give her a blank stare.

‘I can’t do it, Flower,’ Sally said softly. ‘I won’t let you go, no matter what happens.’

Next morning Sally awakened early even though she had slept badly. She was up, washed and dressed before her father stirred. She took him a cup of tea, waking him with a gentle pressure on his shoulder. He grunted in acknowledgement and turned his face to the wall; a sure sign that he did not wish to be disturbed. Sally knew from experience that there was nothing she could do when her father was in one of his deep depressions. She sighed; it had been like this since her mother died, and she was afraid that the loss of Boney and the business would be too much for him to bear. Their future was in her hands now, but she was struggling to think of a way out of this dilemma. The rag-and-bone trade was a competitive and unforgiving occupation. There was no one to whom she could turn for help, and, to make matters worse, the rent was due.

She drank a rapidly cooling cup of tea before going downstairs to the stable. Every morning she had cleaned the stables and seen to the horses’ needs, but today everything seemed different. Boney had been part of her life for almost as long as she could remember and it was strange to see Major in Boney’s stall. Flower was edgy and nervous, as if she sensed that there was something wrong. Sally took the buckets to the pump in the back yard and filled them with water, but when she carried them back to the stable she was startled to find Gideon Lawrence waiting for her.

‘The door was unlocked,’ he said apologetically. ‘I did knock but no one answered, so I let myself in.’

‘You’ve come for Major?’ Sally eyed him hopefully. Perhaps he would allow her to borrow the horse for one more day. If she could earn enough to pay the rent it would give them more time to find a way out of their predicament.

‘Yes. I’m sorry, Miss Suggs. If Major was mine I’d loan him to you for as long as you needed him, but he belongs to the college.’

‘I understand. Of course you must take him. He’s a fine animal.’

Gideon gave her a searching look. ‘Will you be able to find a replacement for Boney?’

‘There’ll never be another horse like him. How is he?’ Sally held her breath.

‘He’s doing well enough, but I’ve given him a thorough examination and I’m afraid it’s his heart. He could live quite happily for a number of years, but his working life is over. I’m sorry, it must have been a bitter blow for your father.’

‘He’s taken it badly.’ Sally watched nervously as Gideon turned his attention to Flower. He examined her as if he were a potential purchaser.

‘She is a beautiful animal. You could sell her for a considerable sum of money.’

‘No!’ Sally raised her voice and was instantly sorry. She held up her hand. ‘I shouldn’t have shouted, but that would really be a last resort.’

‘I can see that you’re fond of her,’ Gideon said thoughtfully. ‘I know it’s none of my business, but are you in a financial position to replace Boney?’

Sally shook her head. ‘The only asset we have is Flower, but I can’t bear to part with her. She’s my only link to my mother. I can’t let her go.’ She took a deep breath and turned away to hide the tears that filled her eyes. She lifted Major’s harness from the wall rack. ‘I’d better get your horse ready for you to take back to the college. We’re truly grateful for your help, Mr Lawrence.’

‘It was nothing. Anyone would have done the same. I wish I could do more.’

Sally busied herself tacking up Major, who bore it stoically. ‘Is Boney fit enough to come home? I can’t expect you to look after him at the college – I mean, we can’t afford to pay for his keep.’

‘He should be taken to the country where he can roam free. Can you arrange that?’

‘No. I can’t, but I’ll think of something.’

‘I have a suggestion, although you must feel free to turn it down.’

Sally shot him a sideways glance. ‘You’ve already done so much. I wouldn’t dream of asking you to do anything else.’

‘Wait until you hear my proposition,’ Gideon said, smiling. ‘I was born and raised in the country. I recently inherited my late father’s farm near Highgate and I was planning to go there on Saturday. If you and your father agree, your old horse could live out his days there. I have plenty of good pasture.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’ Sally gazed at him in surprise. ‘It seems an imposition when we hardly know you.’

‘I entered the veterinary profession because I care for animals; not in a sentimental way, but in a practical sense. If I can heal a sick creature or make their life better in some way, that’s what I’ll do, and,’ he added with a twinkle in his eyes, ‘I get paid for my labours.’

‘That’s the main problem,’ Sally said hastily. ‘We can’t afford to pay.’

‘And I wouldn’t dream of charging a penny. Boney will be company for the pet donkey I had when I was growing up. He is even older than your horse, so they can share stories of their lives. You are welcome to come with me, and I think Flower could do with a long ride. What do you say?’

Chapter Three

It was bitterly cold, but at least it had stopped snowing and the long ride to Hill Farm had been just what Sally needed to dispel some of the worries that had kept her awake at night. The air in the countryside was so much fresher and cleaner than the soot-filled atmosphere in Paradise Row, and the sight of snow-covered fields and hedgerows was a blissful change after the grime and dirt of the King’s Cross area. It had been years since Sally had last ventured outside the city, and Ma had been alive then. The worn and faded riding habit that Sally wore with pride had belonged to her mother, and the scent of her still lingered in the merino cloth. The draped skirt was a couple of inches too short, revealing the boys’ breeches and shabby boots she wore out of necessity, but Sally was determined to enjoy the outing, and she was not going to allow such trifles to spoil her day.

‘We’re almost there.’ Gideon’s pleasant voice brought Sally back to the present with a start.

‘How far is it now?’

‘Follow me.’ Gideon encouraged his mount to a trot and then a canter as he rode on ahead.

Sally accepted the challenge and she flicked the reins. ‘Come on, Flower. We can beat him.’ Flower needed no further encouragement and they caught up with Gideon, passing him and then slowing down as it would be dangerous for the horses to go any faster. As they crested the steep hill Sally could see a black and white timbered farmhouse nestling in the wooden area below. It was surrounded by a neatly kept yard lined with redbrick outbuildings. She reined in and Flower obeyed by slowing down to a more sedate trot, allowing Gideon to catch up with them.

‘That’s a fine little mare. She goes like the wind,’ he said breathlessly.

‘You can see why I don’t want to sell her.’

‘It’s obvious that you two have a strong bond. Maybe there’s another way.’

‘Do you really think so?’

‘I might have an idea, but I don’t want to say anything just yet.’

‘Now I’m intrigued,’ Sally said, laughing. ‘You can’t expect to drop hints like that without an explanation.’

‘I need to give it more thought. Anyway, I’m starving and I expect you are, too. With a bit of luck Mrs Wallace will have done some baking. She’s the best cook in the county.’

‘Mrs Wallace?’ Sally eyed him curiously.

‘She cooks and keeps house for me, and her husband manages the farm. They’ve been with my family for years.’

‘It looks like a lovely house,’ Sally said wistfully.

‘It’s not grand like Fleet Hall.’ Gideon smiled ruefully. ‘I’m sorry, of course you don’t know the locality, but our land abuts the Fleet Hall estate. I’ll take you there after I’ve had a word with Wallace.’ He drew his horse to a halt outside the farmyard and dismounted to open the gate.

Sally was about to ask him what was so important about a neighbouring estate, but she was forestalled by the appearance of a youth, who came running from the house. Gideon handed him the reins. ‘Good lad, Bert. Take care of the horses.’

Bert grinned and did as he was asked, waiting until Sally had dismounted before giving her a shy grin and holding out his hand to take Flower’s reins.

‘She’s quite nervous of strangers,’ Sally said anxiously, but as if to prove her wrong, Flower whinnied softly and rubbed her head against Bert’s shoulder. ‘She likes you,’ Sally added in surprise.

‘I’ve grown up with horses, miss. Don’t worry about her. We’ll soon be the best of friends.’

Sally glanced at Gideon, who gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Bert’s been looking after my horses since he was a nipper and he took over from his father, so he knows what he’s doing. He’s the ideal person to keep an eye on your old carthorse.’

‘Are you sure you want to keep Boney here?’ Sally fell into step beside him.

‘Yes, I am. We have plenty of good pasture and you could visit him when you wished.’

‘I don’t know what to say. It’s a kind offer, and I’d accept straight away, but I really should check with Pa.’

‘I understand.’ Gideon stopped outside the farmhouse door, which Bert had left ajar. He sniffed the air. ‘That smells like jam tarts and gingerbread – my housekeeper always bakes my favourites on the days when they’re expecting me to visit.’ He thrust the door open. ‘Mrs Wallace, I’ve brought someone to see you, and I’ve been singing your praises as the best cook in the county.’

Sally glanced over his shoulder and she was amused to see the tiny woman blushing furiously.

‘Get on with you, Mr Lawrence. You don’t have to soft-soap me to get what you want.’ She gave Sally a searching look. ‘We don’t get many visitors here these days, miss.’

‘Miss Suggs is here to ascertain if our pastureland is suitable for her aged horse,’ Gideon said hastily.

‘I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs Wallace.’ Sally stepped forward, holding out her hand. ‘Mr Lawrence has been boasting about your cooking, and I must say it smells delicious.’

Mrs Wallace’s flushed cheeks deepened in colour, but she shook Sally’s hand. ‘Nice of you to say so, miss. If you’d like to take the young lady to the parlour, I’ll bring a tray of coffee and cakes.’

Gideon pulled out a chair. ‘We could have it here and save you the bother. What do you say, Sally?’

‘Yes, indeed. Please don’t go to any trouble on my behalf.’ Sally sank down on the seat, gazing round the large room in admiration. Bunches of dried herbs hung from the beamed ceiling, filling the air with their aromatic scent, and the enormous black-leaded range glowed with heat from a blazing fire. A kettle sang on the hob and various pans bubbled merrily, sending out gusts of savoury-smelling steam. The homely atmosphere wrapped itself around her and she felt instantly at ease. Everything, from the highly polished brass rail on the range, to the burnished copper cooking pots and the rows of pristine china on the dresser, showed the love and care that Mrs Wallace had put into making the old farmhouse into a home.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Sally said with a sigh. ‘What a lovely house you have, Mr Lawrence.’

‘Gideon, please.’ He passed her a cup filled with hot coffee.

‘I mean it, Gideon. I’ve never seen anything like this. Our rooms above the stable would fit into one corner of this kitchen.’

Mrs Wallace puffed out her chest. ‘I’m glad you approve, miss. Some people take it all for granted,’ she added, looking pointedly at Gideon.

It was his turn to flush with embarrassment. ‘I probably do, but I’ve been spoiled all my life.’

‘Well, it’s not for me to say, Mr Lawrence, but I’d have to agree in part. You were always such a sweet boy it was impossible not to give you what you wanted.’

Sally laughed. ‘I’m glad my pa isn’t here to tell you about my childhood. I’m afraid I wasn’t a model daughter. All I wanted to do was to become a rider like my mother. I saw her perform at Astley’s Amphitheatre and I was inspired. She was such a wonderful horsewoman and so beautiful.’

‘She’s no longer with you, dear?’ Mrs Wallace asked gently.

‘She was thrown from her horse during a rehearsal and she broke her back. She died a couple of years later.’ The explanation of her mother’s early demise had become a mantra, but the pain of bereavement was still as sharp.

‘That’s so sad, dear.’ Mrs Wallace picked up a plate of gingerbread. ‘Would you like to try my gingerbread?’

Sally took a slice. ‘Thank you. I can’t wait to try it. I’m not much of a cook myself.’

Mrs Wallace beamed at her. ‘Well, dear, it’s so nice to be appreciated. I doubt if Mr Lawrence has ever given a second thought to the comforts he enjoys at home.’

‘You’re wrong there,’ Gideon said with a wry smile. ‘Living at the college has made me appreciate my home more than ever, especially the wonderful meals you’ve created over the years, not to mention the cakes.’ He selected a jam tart and bit into it.

‘As I said, it’s nice to be appreciated.’ Mrs Wallace refilled his cup with coffee. ‘Will you be staying tonight?’

‘No, I have to get back to London, but I’ll be down again on Monday. It’s Christmas Day and it’s also Miss Appleton’s birthday celebration at Fleet Hall.’

‘So I heard.’ Mrs Wallace eyed Gideon expectantly. ‘Mrs Hart, the Appleton’s housekeeper, told me in strict confidence that they’re expecting the announcement of Miss Cecily’s engagement. Your name crops up quite often, sir.’

‘I don’t know where she got that idea,’ Gideon said casually.

Mrs Wallace turned to Sally with a confidential smile. ‘Miss Cecily is an heiress and she’s beautiful. I’m sure gentlemen are queuing up to ask for her hand.’

Gideon drank the last of his coffee and rose to his feet. ‘If you’re ready, Sally, I’ll take you to see the field where Boney will have the freedom to roam, and – before you ask – if the weather becomes too inclement in winter, he’ll be given a warm, dry stable.’

‘Thank you for the coffee and the delicious cake, Mrs Wallace.’ Sally stood up, brushing the crumbs off her crumpled skirt. ‘Yes, of course. I’d love to look round the farm.’ She waited until they were outside in the yard. ‘Are you sure you want the bother of looking after an aged horse? I mean if you’re thinking of getting married, you might sell the farm and …’

Gideon gave her a straight look. ‘Hill Farm is mine and will remain so whatever happens in the future. Your animal will be safe with me. I’ve seen too many horses worked until they dropped with sheer exhaustion, so I’m happy to give Boney a chance of a peaceful retirement.’

Sally did not question him further. She sensed that he did not want to talk about the beautiful Miss Appleton, and that intrigued her. She walked beside him, keeping up with his long strides as he showed her the outbuildings, including the milking parlour, the dairy and the various animal pens. There was a hay barn and a coach house adjacent to the stable block. Sally could see Bert at work grooming a shire horse, while another one waited in its stall, munching placidly on hay.

They crossed the yard and walked down a lane bordered with hedgerows glistening with snow. The fields were wearing a blanket of white, but brave little spikes of green grass showed through in patches beneath overhanging trees, and Sally could imagine how lovely it would be in summer.

‘This is where Boney will live out his days.’ Gideon stopped at the five-bar gate. He whistled and a donkey came slowly towards them, braying loudly. Gideon leaned over to stroke the animal’s head. ‘This is Dobson, my old friend. He spends the night in a warm stable in the winter, but he enjoys being out here on a day like this. I think he and Boney will be good companions.’

Sally stroked Dobson’s velvety muzzle. ‘He’s lovely. I’m afraid if he was mine I’d have him sitting on a rug by the fire. I can see why you love him.’

‘I was an only child and Dobson was my best friend. We used to roam the countryside together.’

‘I feel the same about Flower,’ Sally said slowly. ‘I can’t bear to think of someone else owning her.’

‘Do you think your father will be able to work again?’

The nagging fear was always at the back of her mind, even though Pa would never admit to being beaten by age or physical disability. He might have continued for a year or two, but they would be lost without Boney, and there was little or no possibility of finding the means to purchase another carthorse. She shook her head. ‘To be perfectly honest, I doubt very much if he’ll ever be able to lift heavy objects or even to drive round the city streets for hours on end. The rag-and-bone trade is tough, and it’s hard to make a living if you’re young and fit – my pa is getting old and he suffers from what he calls “the miseries” in all his joints.’

‘Then it’s obviously time for a change.’

‘I expect you’re right,’ Sally said reluctantly. ‘But I will be truly grateful if you would look after Boney. I’m sure he’ll be very happy here in this lovely place.’

Gideon stroked Dobson’s muzzle. ‘I’ll see you soon, old chap, and I’ll bring your new friend to share the field with you.’

Dobson snorted and pawed the ground.

‘I believe he likes the idea.’ Sally patted the donkey’s neck. ‘But I really ought to set off for home. I know the way, so you don’t have to accompany me.’

‘If you don’t mind staying a while longer, I’d like to take you to Fleet Hall.’

She shot him a curious glance. ‘Why?’

Gideon proffered his arm. ‘I told you I had an idea, but I’d like to speak to Cecily before I say anything more.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘It’s a short ride to Fleet Hall. Would you care to accompany me?’

‘I don’t know what you have in mind, but I’d like to meet this lady.’

‘You’ll love Cecily – everyone does.’

In her imagination Sally had pictured Fleet Hall as a huge Palladian mansion situated in the middle of a large deer park, but the reality was far more striking and surprising. Rising from the ground like some Gothic cathedral, decked with a coronet of snow, Fleet Hall looked so new that it might have been constructed yesterday. With its ornate façade, arched doorway and crenellated towers, it seemed as if a fairy-tale castle had been transported from the pages of a storybook to sit amongst formal lawns and a parterre garden.

Sally was momentarily speechless, which seemed to amuse Gideon. He reined in his horse to a walk. ‘Striking, isn’t it?’

‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ she said truthfully.

‘Sir Gregory Appleton’s father bought the original mansion fifty years ago with the fortune his family made in the potteries. He spared no expense in having the place rebuilt to his satisfaction, and he furnished it with art treasures from all over Europe. It’s not to everyone’s taste, but it is very grand.’

‘It’s very imposing,’ Sally said carefully. ‘So this is where Miss Appleton lives?’

‘Cecily is charming and beautiful and very accomplished.’

Sally eyed him warily. ‘Why have you brought me here? I don’t think I’m the sort of person that your friend would want to associate with.’

A look of genuine surprise crossed Gideon’s handsome features. ‘Cecily isn’t like that, Sally. Wait until you meet her.’ With a gentle nudge from his heels he urged his horse to a trot. ‘Let’s hope she’s at home.’

Sally was desperate to question him further, but there was little she could do other than to follow his lead.

As they dismounted at the foot of the wide stone steps a stable boy appeared, seemingly from nowhere, to take their horses to the stables, and before Gideon had a chance to knock on the heavily embossed and studded oak door, it opened as if by magic. Sally stared in awe at the majestic butler, whose starched white shirtfront seemed to reflect the pale sunlight, and the high points of his collar threatened to pierce his plump cheeks.

‘Good morning, Stafford. Is Miss Cecily at home?’

‘Good morning, sir. Please come in and I’ll announce your arrival.’ Stafford looked down his long nose at Sally. ‘Is the young lady with you, Mr Lawrence?’

‘She is indeed.’ Seemingly unperturbed by the butler’s obvious reluctance to admit Sally, Gideon ushered her over the threshold. ‘We’ll wait here.’

Stafford closed the door and walked away at a measured pace, as if to underline his own importance. He returned minutes later. ‘Come this way, please.’

‘Is he always like this?’ Sally asked in a whisper as they followed him across the highly polished floor. They walked past console tables where gilded cherubs supported ormolu-encrusted marble tops, on which were placed silver urns filled with hothouse flowers. Artistically draped marble statues were reflected in the many wall mirrors, and light flooded in from the tall mullioned windows. Most striking of all was an enormous, lavishly decorated Christmas tree. Sally felt as though she had stepped into a world so different from her own that it hardly seemed real, but catching sight of her own reflection she was shocked to see how shabby she looked. No wonder Stafford had thought twice before admitting her to such a grand establishment. She was tempted to turn and run, but that would be cowardly and she had to admit that she was curious.

Gideon ushered her into a large room that she would hardly describe as a parlour. The hand-painted wallpaper depicting colourful tropical birds and exotic foliage was a work of art in itself. The heavy mahogany furniture was upholstered in wine-red velvet, and matching curtains were held back by tasselled silk ropes, to reveal a splendid view of the parterre garden and the silver shimmer of a lake in the distance. As if all this magnificence was not enough, the young woman who rose from a chair by the fire was everything that Gideon had said and more. Cecily Appleton was almost too beautiful to be real. She was tall and slender and a welcoming smile lit her large blue eyes. Her golden curls were artlessly piled in a coronet on top of a well-shaped head and ringlets caressed her rosy cheeks. She seemed to glide as she moved towards Gideon with both hands outstretched.

‘Gideon, this is a lovely surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you before the ball.’

He raised her hands to his lips. ‘You look beautiful, as ever, Cessy.’

‘Now I know you want something. You aren’t usually so gallant.’ Cecily glanced over his shoulder. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your companion?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Gideon said hastily as he released her hands. ‘Sally, I’d like you to meet my very good friend, Cecily Appleton.’

‘Come now, Gideon. You and I are more than just friends.’ Cecily turned to Sally, holding out her hand. ‘I’m delighted to meet you, Miss …’

‘Suggs.’ Sally went to grasp Cecily’s hand but it was withdrawn a little too quickly. ‘But everyone calls me Sally.’

Cecily turned to face Gideon. ‘So what brings you here? I thought your position at the college kept you busy all week.’

‘It does normally, but Sally and I met by chance.’

‘Twice, in fact,’ Sally said, chuckling.

Gideon acknowledged her remark with a smile. ‘The first time we quite literally bumped into each other during a snowstorm, but the second time it was an emergency concerning Sally’s aged horse, which is why I took her to Hill Farm today.’

‘How intriguing.’ Cecily shot a sideways glance at Sally. ‘I want to hear the whole story, however, where are my manners? Do take a seat. You must be tired after a long ride from London, and in such inclement weather, too.’

Sally perched on the edge of the nearest chair. She had never thought much about her own looks, and she had been quite happy to wear clothes that were practical for her daily life, but suddenly she felt drab and awkward. She tucked her feet under the chair in an attempt to hide her down-at-heel boots, and she folded her hands in the hope that the gorgeous Cecily Appleton would not notice that they were stained with black lead, and roughened by hard work. She found herself wishing that she had refused Gideon’s invitation to visit Fleet Hall.

‘It’s a story that will appeal to you, Cessy,’ Gideon said, smiling. ‘You love horses and you are a good judge of quality.’

‘Are you telling me that you’ve found a suitable mount for me, Gideon?’ Cecily’s eyes shone and she clapped her hands.

‘Not exactly.’ Gideon shot a worried glance in Sally’s direction. ‘Well, maybe. It all depends on the owner.’

‘I have a fancy for an Andalusian, in particular a dapple grey.’

Gideon met Sally’s anxious gaze with a sympathetic smile. ‘Would you consider selling Flower to Miss Appleton?’

Cecily looked at Sally with renewed interest. ‘You own a dapple grey?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Sally hesitated, clenching her fists so that her nails dug into her palms. The idea of selling Flower was agonising, and she had been putting off the decision, even though she knew in her heart it was inevitable. She had no doubt the stables here were far more luxurious than the tiny stall in Paradise Row, and Cecily Appleton seemed to be a nice enough person, but to part with Flower would be like cutting off her own hand.

‘I’m only interested in thoroughbreds.’ Cecily turned to Gideon, lowering her voice. ‘It isn’t stolen, is it?’

‘I heard that.’ Sally jumped to her feet. ‘I’ve had Flower since she was a foal.’

Gideon frowned. ‘Of course the animal belongs to Sally. You know better than to ask a question like that, Cessy.’

She blushed rosily. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you, Miss Suggs. I have to be careful – there are so many rogues when it comes to buying and selling horses.’

‘I don’t want to sell her.’ Sally’s voice broke on a sob. ‘But I can’t keep her.’

Cecily was at her side in an instant and she put her arm around Sally’s shoulders. ‘You poor thing. How sad. Sit down and tell me how you came to be in such a pickle.’ She pressed Sally back on her seat.

‘That’s putting it mildly,’ Gideon said earnestly. ‘Sally has had such incredible bad luck, Cessy. Her father can’t work because he’s infirm, and his horse is too old to carry on the business, even if Sally was able to continue on her own.’

‘I could do it.’ Sally met his gaze with a defiant stare. ‘If Boney was a younger animal we could have kept up the round together.’

‘What sort of business is it?’ Cecily looked from one to the other.

‘The rag-and-bone business, Miss Appleton.’

‘I don’t understand? I’ve never heard of such a thing.’

‘We collect material and old clothes, scrap iron and bones,’ Sally said patiently. ‘Then we sell them to our contacts in the trade.’

‘Trade!’ Cecily’s blue eyes widened as if Sally had just said a rude word. ‘You poor girl.’

‘We’ve done well enough until recently.’ Sally was on the defensive. It was obvious that Miss Appleton knew nothing of the real world.

‘It’s a respectable business,’ Gideon said firmly. ‘Items that might have ended up on a rubbish heap are put to good use.’

‘I see.’ Cecily frowned thoughtfully. ‘So how will you and your father survive without your horse? Forgive me for being so blunt, Sally, but I have no experience in such matters.’

‘I don’t know, and that’s the honest truth.’

Cecily put her head on one side. ‘Am I right in thinking that your horse is your only asset?’

‘I won’t sell her. I’d rather go to the workhouse.’

‘I doubt if they have stables for residents’ horses. I’m sorry for you, Sally, but I think you need to be practical.’ Cecily rose gracefully to her feet and reached for the bell pull. ‘I’d like to see your thoroughbred mare.’

‘Is there any point, Cessy?’ Gideon eyed her curiously. ‘Sally has just said she won’t sell her horse. In fact I was thinking along the lines of asking you to keep the animal here on a temporary basis. Your stables are well run and much more suitable than anything I could offer at Hill Farm, and you would have the pleasure of exercising a thoroughbred mare like Flower, but Sally would still own her.’

Cecily smiled sweetly. ‘Why would I, or my father, agree to such a proposition, if the horse was simply eating its head off in our stables without earning its keep?’

‘Come now, Cessy. You know that Sir Gregory will do anything you ask.’

‘Very true, but why would I bother if there was no benefit to me?’ Cecily turned to give Sally a calculating glance. ‘If I like the look of your animal, I might just be persuaded to do what Gideon suggests with certain provisos.’

‘I’m not sure I understand,’ Sally said cautiously.

Cecily was prevented from answering by the appearance of a parlour maid.

‘You rang, Miss Cecily?’

‘I need my fur-lined mantle and the matching hat and gloves, Bertha. Fetch them for me, please.’

‘Yes, miss.’ Bertha bobbed a curtsey and hurried from the room.

‘What are you up to, Cessy?’ Gideon eyed her warily. ‘Sally has made it clear that she has no intention of selling Flower.’

‘I’ll tell you when I’ve had a chance to look at the horse.’

‘I’m sorry, Sally,’ Gideon said apologetically. ‘I should have spoken to you about this before I brought you here.’

Cecily gave him a sunny smile. ‘Of course you should have, Gideon. But you invariably act first and think later.’ She slipped her arm around Sally’s waist. ‘It’s always left to us women to sort matters out.’

Sally moved away. She had a feeling that both she and Gideon were being manipulated, although she could not say how it was being done. She had a suspicion that the lovely Cecily Appleton was an expert in getting her own way, but she was a guest in this palatial home and in no position to argue. One thing she did know for certain was that Flower belonged to her and her alone. Nothing and no one would separate them.

‘Perhaps we should leave things as they are?’ Gideon said worriedly.

‘No, indeed. I’m looking forward to seeing Sally’s horse and I fancy a walk to the stables. Don’t be such a spoilsport, Gideon.’

‘Flower isn’t for sale,’ Sally reiterated in desperation.

Cecily tossed her head. ‘Maybe not, we’ll see.’

Chapter Four

Cecily and Gideon walked arm in arm with Sally following at a discreet two paces behind them. It was only a short distance to the stables, and the outdoor servants had cleared the snow from the path. Sally tried hard not to stride along in her second-hand boots, but she felt very self-conscious in her shabby riding habit and she could not help envying Cecily’s elegant outfit. She found herself wondering if people like the Appletons ever threw out unwanted items of clothing for the local rag-and-bone man; if so, she would be first in the queue.

The sight of Miss Appleton walking towards the stables seemed to cause a minor sensation amongst the stable boys, and the head groom came flying out of the tack room, struggling into his jacket as he ran.

Cecily seemed oblivious to the furore she was causing. ‘Good morning, Jackson. I’ve come to see Miss Suggs’s horse.’

‘Do you intend to ride her, Miss Cecily?’

‘I might, if I like the look of her. Have her saddled up and I’ll make up my mind when I see how she behaves.’ Cecily leaned on Gideon’s arm, chattering eagerly about the coming ball while she waited for the horse to be brought from the stable, but Sally was filled with misgivings. The mere thought of leaving Flower here, even in such luxurious surroundings, was agonising.

‘What do you think, Cessy?’ Gideon looked on, smiling appreciatively as one of the young stable boys led Flower into the cobbled yard, which had been swept clear of snow.

‘She’s a very pretty mare,’ Cecily conceded. She left Gideon’s side and circled the animal, eyeing her critically. ‘What’s your opinion of the animal, Jackson? You’re the expert when it comes to horseflesh.’

Jackson nodded. ‘She’s a true thoroughbred, Miss Cecily. I’ve had a look at her and she’s in good shape.’

‘I’ll have to try her out,’ Cecily said thoughtfully. ‘I’d have to change into my riding habit, of course, and that saddle is no good to me.’

‘It was good enough for my mother when she performed at Astley’s,’ Sally said angrily.

‘I am not a circus performer, Miss Suggs. Ladies ride side-saddle.’

‘What was your proposition, Cessy?’ Gideon said hastily.

‘I’m not prepared to say until I’ve ridden the animal, although I was thinking along the lines of a semi-permanent loan, as suggested earlier.’

‘What does that mean exactly?’ Sally asked anxiously.

‘Your horse would be stabled here as if she were mine. The estate would bear the cost of taking care of your horse, and you would be allowed to visit and ride her whenever you were able.’

‘I don’t agree.’ Sally shook her head. ‘That means I would be giving Flower to you for nothing.’

Cecily shrugged. ‘I thought Gideon said you were desperate.’

‘Perhaps we ought to return to the house and talk it over,’ Gideon said hastily. ‘This is a big decision for Sally.’ He turned to her with an apologetic smile. ‘I know how difficult this must be for you.’

Sally snatched the reins from the stable boy. ‘No, you don’t. How could you know what it’s like to be in my position? I’ll find a way out of this without selling Flower or giving her away. Thank you for trying to help, but I’m leaving now.’ She led Flower to the nearest mounting block and rode off before anyone had the chance to stop her. Sally was vaguely aware that Gideon was calling after her, but her one thought was to get away from Fleet Hall and the wealthy Miss Appleton. Cecily might be everything that Gideon had said, but he was welcome to her and her money. There must be another way out of their predicament.

It was late afternoon by the time Sally reached Paradise Row, and both she and Flower were close to exhaustion. Having unsaddled Flower, and given her a quick rub down, Sally went upstairs to let her father know that she had returned. She was greeted hysterically by Pippy, and it took her several minutes of fussing over the little dog to calm her down.

‘I thought you was going to spend the day at the farm.’ Ted’s dark eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘What happened? Did the honourable veterinarian prove to be not such a good fellow, after all?’

‘Nothing of the sort, Pa. I didn’t want to leave you on your own for too long, so I came home.’ Sally placed the kettle on the hob. ‘You must be hungry.’

‘Well now, here’s the thing. I was sitting up here, minding my own business at midday, when I heard someone calling my name. “Who’s there?” I says. “It’s me, Finn Kelly.” So I says, “Come on up, Kelly,” and he did.’

‘What did he want?’

‘Would you believe it? He wanted to know if I was recovered from my aches and pains.’

‘That’s not like Kelly,’ Sally said thoughtfully. ‘He’s after something, although I can’t think what, considering the fact that we’re broke.’

‘He asked me about poor old Boney, and I told him.’ Ted sighed heavily. ‘Anyway, Kelly was moved enough to treat us to ham rolls and coffee from the stall next to the station.’

‘Boney will be better off than both of us,’ Sally said with a wry smile. ‘I’ve seen the pasture where he’ll spend his retirement with a donkey called Dobson. That is if Gideon is still willing to take him. I’m afraid I might have spoiled his chances there, Pa.’

‘Sit down and tell me about it, love. I can’t believe that you would have done anything wrong.’

Sally made the tea and pulled up a chair to sit close to the fire. She was uncomfortably aware that this was the last of the coal they had stored in the back yard, and if they wanted a fire tomorrow she would have to chop up anything that might burn for long enough to heat a kettle of water. It would be a lean Christmas and the rent collector was due at the end of the month. She had very little time in which to find the means to save them from eviction.

Later that evening, after she had settled Flower for the night, Sally was about to lock up when the outside door opened and Gideon walked into the stable.

‘Why did you run off like that, Sally? We were only trying to help.’

‘Flower is my horse,’ Sally said stubbornly. ‘I decide if I want to sell her and I’ll choose the next owner. I certainly don’t intend to give her away.’

‘I’m certain that Cecily would see that Flower was well cared for. You couldn’t find a better home than the stables at Fleet Hall.’

‘I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, but Flower is a special animal. Miss Appleton would take her out for a genteel trot if the mood took her, but otherwise Flower might be stuck in her stall for days on end. It’s easy for her to say that I could visit when I pleased, but it’s a long walk to Highgate.’

Gideon looked round the dilapidated stable and shook his head. ‘Do you really think this is better than the conditions in which she might be living at Fleet Hall? I know it’s none of my business, but as a veterinary surgeon it’s the welfare of the animal that must come first. I feel I have a right to speak my mind.’

Sally looked him in the eye. ‘You hardly know me. I’m truly grateful that you’ve offered to look after Boney, but if you feel in the circumstances you can’t, I’ll understand.’

‘Of course my offer still stands. I’m pleased to be able to grant an old working horse a happy life in the country, but I don’t know where you get the idea that you’ve offended me.’

‘Miss Appleton is your future wife. I threw her offer to take Flower back in her face, so I would expect you to be annoyed.’

‘I suppose that Jane Wallace gave you that impression, but Cecily and I are good friends. We’ve known each other since we were children. There is no such understanding between us.’

Sally was tempted to argue, but she could see that he was sincere and she held her tongue. ‘Maybe I was mistaken, but Flower is not a rich lady’s toy. Anyway, I’m sure that Miss Appleton has withdrawn the offer now, so please can we say no more on the subject. I’m very grateful for your attempts to help, but we will manage.’

Gideon smiled, shaking his head. ‘I’ve never met two more stubborn women in my life. You might think that you and Cecily have nothing in common, but I can assure you that you’re wrong. She is unlikely to give in once she’s made up her mind, and I can see that you are similar. It’s going to be interesting to see who wins.’

It was impossible to resist his humorous look and Sally relaxed just a little. ‘This isn’t a war. Flower is mine and that’s an end to it.’

‘So you may think. I’ll say goodnight, but I have a feeling that we will meet again before very long.’ Gideon let himself out into the street, closing the door behind him.

Sally fondled Flower’s neck. ‘I know he meant well, but I’m not so sure about Miss Cecily.’

Sally finished work in the stable and went upstairs to her room. They might not have a work horse but they still had the cart. She had toyed with the idea of pulling it through the streets herself, but she had abandoned the project as being unworkable. She sat on the edge of her truckle bed and counted out their meagre savings that she kept in a pouch beneath her mattress. There was only enough to keep them in food for two days, three at the most, and even then they would be living on next to nothing. Perhaps she could sell the cart as it was, although it had seen many years of hard labour. Sally settled down for the night. Maybe tomorrow she would find a solution to their problems.

Sally was in the yard, examining the cart with a view to putting it up for sale, when Kelly sauntered out of the back door.

‘Ted told me that you were out here,’ Kelly said affably.

Pippy bounced up to him, barking with obvious pleasure, and Kelly bent down to ruffle her fur.

‘Pa said you bought him food yesterday. Thank you for that.’

‘We all fall on hard times every now and then, mavourneen.’ He strolled over to examine the cart. ‘Would it be true that you’re thinking of selling this old heap of splinters and woodworm?’

‘Maybe,’ Sally said warily. ‘Why? Are you interested?’

‘What? In that old pile of junk?’ Kelly examined it from all sides. ‘I’ve got a better cart than this.’

‘Then why are you here? You never do anything for nothing.’

‘That’s not fair, mavourneen. Didn’t I come round yesterday to offer my condolences about poor Boney?’

‘How did you know about that?’

‘Word gets round,’ Kelly said mysteriously. ‘But it was obvious that the old fellow wouldn’t make it much longer. Your pa told me you’d gone to the country with the veterinary surgeon. What price did he extract from you for putting Boney out to pasture?’

‘You have a devious mind, Kelly. Some people do nice things simply because they are decent and want to do the right thing.’

‘Don’t trust them, that’s what I say. I’m a bad fellow, but you can rely on me to keep my word.’

‘What do you want, Kelly? I’m getting tired of asking, and don’t give me any of your blarney.’

‘Well, now you come to mention it, I could offer you a few shillings for the cart, but I’d be doing meself down. It’s only fit for the bonfire.’

Sally agreed with him in private, but she was not going to give in easily. ‘A coat of paint and a new wheel or two, and it’ll be as good as new.’

‘So you’re giving up, are you?’

‘I’m not doing this from choice, Kelly.’

He leaned against the cart, stroking Pippy’s small head as she vied for his attention. ‘No, I gathered that from Ted. He feels bad because he can’t provide for you any longer.’ Kelly’s serious expression melted into a wide grin. ‘I told him he should marry you off to a bloke who could look after both of you.’

Sally knew Kelly well enough not to take him seriously. ‘Are you offering?’

‘Not me, mavourneen. I’m not the marrying kind.’

‘Well, that’s good because I wouldn’t want to put my life in the hands of a scallywag like you,’ Sally said, smiling. ‘But we do need money for the rent quite urgently, Kelly. Are you sure you don’t want the cart?’

He shook his head. ‘I’d buy it off you if only to help out, but I made a bad investment at the races a couple of days ago.’

‘It’s all right – I thought I’d ask. I’ll handle it myself, Kelly.’

‘I could lend you ten bob,’ he said grudgingly. ‘But that’s all I’ve got.’

‘Thank you again, but I couldn’t take it from you. We’ll manage somehow.’ She could see that he did not believe her, but she did not want to be beholden to Kelly and she managed a smile. ‘I’m considering an offer I had yesterday. A wealthy woman who lives in Highgate is interested in purchasing Flower. It’s not something I want to do, but she would be safe and I could visit her often.’ This was a lie, of course, but it made the arrangement sound more believable, or so she hoped.

‘So why haven’t you accepted her offer?’

Sally turned away. Kelly had the uncanny knack of knowing when she was lying. ‘I wanted time to think about it.’

‘You mean you don’t trust her to look after your precious horse.’

‘Not exactly – well, maybe. But Flower is mine and always has been. We belong together.’

‘Have you thought about working for Astley’s?’

She stared at him in surprise. ‘I have, but I’m not a performer and neither is Flower.’

‘You could learn and so could she.’

‘Ma was a brilliant horsewoman. I’m a good rider, but that’s all.’

Kelly shrugged. ‘It was just a thought, mavourneen. I don’t like to see my friends lose everything.’

‘We aren’t beaten yet,’ Sally said firmly. ‘I’ll find a way.’

‘Sure you will.’ Kelly glanced round at the neat piles of scrap metal and other items that Sally and her father were preparing to sell. ‘I’ll take this stuff off your hands and I’ll split the profits when I’ve sold it on. I can’t say fairer than that.’

Sally thought quickly. She could not shift the items herself and the money would help to keep them until she had worked out a solution to what had seemed an unsolvable problem. She proffered her hand. ‘It’s a deal, Kelly.’

‘And in the meantime I want you to accept the loan,’ Kelly added firmly. ‘I suggest we go to the Nag’s Head and I’ll treat you and your pa to a chicken dinner. We can settle things over a glass of hot rum punch.’

The loan from Kelly would cover the rent, but they would have to live on pea soup bought from a street vendor, and stale rolls that the baker sold off at closing time in the evening. It was only when Sally put the last of the fresh straw and sawdust down in the stable that she realised that matters had come to a head. It was one thing for herself and her father to cut their food and fuel down to a minimum, but when it came to an empty manger, it was another matter. Sally had not seen Gideon since the night he had called in after her somewhat undignified flight from Fleet Hall, but he arrived early on Christmas Eve, riding his own horse, with Boney on a leading rein.

Sally opened the stable door in answer to his knock, although she had seen him approaching from the upstairs parlour window. ‘Have you brought Boney back to us?’

‘Is that what you want?’ Gideon was not smiling.

‘No. I mean I want what’s best for him.’

‘Then you agree that I should take him to Hill Farm?’

‘Yes, please. I’m very grateful, and, once again, I’m sorry if I offended Miss Appleton by leaving so abruptly.’

A slow smile lit Gideon’s eyes. ‘I’m sure that Cessy has forgotten the incident, but she was sincere in her wish to purchase Flower, and you both seem to have abandoned the idea of sharing her. Have you given any more thought to selling Flower?’

After a sleepless night, Sally had come to the only conclusion possible. She nodded. ‘If she still wants her I’ll consider it, but I must see where she’s to be stabled and I want to speak to the head groom. Flower has very particular needs.’

‘Cessy is very keen to have her, and if she makes up her mind to have something, money will be no object,’ Gideon said, smiling. ‘Today, as you might have gathered, is her birthday and there will be a grand ball tonight. Why don’t you come with me now? Ride Flower to Fleet Hall and then you can have a word with Jackson and a tour of the stables. I can assure you they are very modern and the horses have every comfort.’

‘I don’t know.’ Sally glanced over her shoulder at Flower, who was watching her with trusting eyes. ‘I’m not sure I can do this.’

‘Perhaps you could leave Flower in Jackson’s care overnight, then you can judge for yourself whether or not she’ll settle into her new home. I’m sure Mrs Wallace will make up a bed for you at the farm. She’d be more than happy to have your company.’

Sally knew that if she hesitated she would never be able to part with Flower, and Gideon’s suggestion was not one to be dismissed lightly. ‘All right. I’ll come with you, but first I must make sure that Pa knows what to do for his supper. Give me five minutes and I’ll be with you.’

Sally raced upstairs and found her father seated in his old chair by the empty grate. They had run out of coal and kindling and it was bitterly cold, but she did not dare break into the rent money.

‘Where’s the fire?’ Ted gave her a wry smile. ‘Joking aside, we could do with some coal, Sally love.’

‘I know, Pa. I’m sorry but we’ve run out and there isn’t any money to buy more. That’s why I’m going to do what’s necessary. I don’t want to leave you on Christmas Eve, but this might be my one chance to help us out of this mess.’

Ted was suddenly alert. ‘What d’you mean? You’re not going to sell Flower, are you?’

‘Mr Lawrence is downstairs, Pa. He’s taking Boney to his farm in Highgate and he suggested that I take Flower to Fleet Hall and leave her for the night to see if she’ll settle.’

Ted dashed his hand across his eyes. ‘What have we come to that you have to sell your horse in order to keep an old wreck like me.’

‘Don’t talk that way, Pa. I love you and I’ll do anything to make your life more comfortable. I’ll only sell Flower if I’m certain that she’ll have a good home. With the money I get for her I could buy a horse to take Boney’s place. That means we could stay here and I could take over your round.’

‘It’s not a job for a girl like you, Sally. It was different when we did it together, but I’ll never be fit enough to take over again.’

‘With the money I might get for Flower we could afford to pay for a doctor. We’ll have you back on your feet in no time.’

‘Don’t do it, Sal. I know how much you love that animal.’

‘I love you more, Pa. But I’ll only leave Flower if I’m quite certain she’ll be well treated and loved as I love her.’ Sally took the crust of a loaf of bread from the cupboard and the last slice of cheese, which she placed on a plate at her father’s side. ‘There’s your midday meal, Pa. I’ll pop in to Mrs Maggs’s shop next door. She’ll bring you a cup of tea and a bite to eat for supper. She’s bound to be on her own, so she’ll be glad of the company.’

‘She never stops talking.’ Ted sighed. ‘But she does bake good pies. I just munch away and shut me ears to her prattle.’

‘You’ll be fine, Pa. Mr Lawrence said I can stay at the farm tonight, and his housekeeper will keep an eye on me. I’ll be home as soon as I can in the morning. Be good, Pa. Don’t flirt with Mrs Maggs. I don’t fancy her for a stepmother.’

Ted shuddered visibly. ‘She’s got a wart on her chin with hairs growing out of it. A fellow would have to be desperate to marry that one.’

‘Or very greedy for her steak and oyster pies,’ Sally added, laughing. ‘I have to go now. Mr Lawrence is waiting outside.’ She leaned over and dropped a kiss on her father’s bald head. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be home first thing, and we’ll spend a nice quiet day together.’

Mrs Wallace seemed genuinely pleased to see Sally, and having plied her with tea and biscuits, she showed her to a room at the back of the farmhouse, overlooking an orchard.

‘You’ll be comfortable here,’ Mrs Wallace said cheerily. ‘Will you be staying long?’

‘Just for tonight. Although I think I could live here quite happily. It’s such a lovely place and so different from Paradise Row.’

‘I wouldn’t know about that, dear. I was born and bred in a cottage not far from here. My father was the gamekeeper on the Appletons’ estate, so I grew up in the country.’

‘You’re very fortunate,’ Sally said with feeling.

‘I think so, and I have the best employer in the whole world. Unfortunately Arthur and I were never blessed with children, and I think of Mr Lawrence as my own son, although I wouldn’t dream of telling him so.’

‘He’s been very generous in taking on Boney. I doubt if many people would do as much for a complete stranger.’

‘A pretty face works wonders, my dear,’ Mrs Wallace said, chuckling. ‘But Mr Lawrence does have a kind heart, especially when it comes to animals. As a small boy he would bring home all manner of creatures that were sick or injured in some way. His poor mother never knew what sort of animal she would find crawling round the floor in her best parlour.’ She cocked her head at the sound of Gideon’s voice. ‘I think he wants you, miss.’

Sally caught sight of her dishevelled state in the mirror on the dressing table. ‘I was supposed to be getting ready to go to the Hall. Do I look all right?’

Mrs Wallace eyed her critically. ‘Your hair is in a bit of a tangle, and that outfit is not at all flattering, but Miss Appleton is interested in your horse, not you.’

‘Yes, you’re right.’ Sally tucked stray strands of hair under her peaked cap. ‘Thank you, Mrs Wallace. I’ll see you later.’ She hurried from the bedchamber and descended the stairs in a rush.

Gideon was waiting for her in the entrance hall. ‘I was half expecting you to slide down the banister,’ he said, laughing. ‘We’d better go now or Cessy will be too engrossed in her preparations for the ball to take any interest.’

‘Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all,’ Sally said nervously.

‘You’ve come this far, but if you don’t approve of the stables or you change your mind about selling Flower, we’ll all understand.’

Sally had a sudden picture of her father huddled around an empty grate, at the mercy of Mrs Maggs with the hairy wart on her chin, and she knew that their future depended upon her and her alone. ‘I’ve made my decision and I’ll stick to it, but only if Flower settles down quickly.’

‘A brave decision.’ Gideon’s smile was sympathetic. ‘I know how hard this must be for you, so let’s not waste any more time. The sooner we get Flower to her new home, the better.’

They left the house and were halfway across the yard when a tall, thin man emerged from the stable. He tipped his cap. ‘Good morning, Mr Lawrence.’

‘Good morning, Wallace. Is everything all right?’

‘Yes, sir. I was just taking a look at the little mare. Bert was raving about her the other day, so I thought I’d see for myself.’

‘Flower belongs to Miss Suggs.’ Gideon turned to Sally. ‘This is Arthur Wallace, my right-hand man. I wouldn’t have been able to keep the farm going without him.’

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Wallace.’ Sally could see that he was shocked by her appearance and had probably made the mistake of thinking she was a boy. She smiled and shook his hand.

‘Pleased to meet you, too, miss.’ Arthur’s weather-beaten skin darkened with a suspicion of a blush. ‘It’s a privilege to work here. Mr Lawrence senior took me on as a lad more than forty years ago, and I wouldn’t want to live and work anywhere else.’

‘It’s a lovely setting,’ Sally said earnestly.

‘We’d better not keep you, Wallace.’ Gideon beckoned to young Bert who was holding the two horses in readiness. ‘We need to leave now, but Miss Suggs will be staying here for the night. I’ve been invited to dinner at the hall, so I hope you and Jane will keep her entertained.’

‘It’ll be our pleasure, sir.’ Wallace tipped his cap to Sally before striding off towards the fields.

‘He’s a good man,’ Gideon said confidentially. ‘I would have had to sell up when my father died if it hadn’t been for him and Jane.’ He swung Sally onto the saddle and taking the reins from Bert he mounted his own horse. ‘Walk on.’

‘How much land have you got here?’ Sally asked as they set off towards Fleet Hall.

‘About a hundred acres. It’s prime land and Sir Gregory is very keen to get his hands on it. His estate is the largest in the county, or it would be if he could incorporate Hill Farm. I think that’s the only reason he tolerates my friendship with Cessy.’

‘Why would that be?’

‘If Cessy and I were to marry, our estates would merge. It’s been done that way by ambitious landowners for centuries.’

‘It sounds very mercenary.’

‘I hadn’t given it much thought.’ Gideon encouraged his horse to a brisk trot, leaving Sally no alternative but to follow suit.

They arrived at Fleet Hall to find a flurry of activity. Servants were rushing around, stringing paper lanterns amongst the trees and placing flares at intervals along the drive. A huge Christmas tree had been transplanted to stand in the middle of the snowy lawn, and coloured glass balls glinted in the pale winter sunlight. Sally could imagine how it would look when the candles attached to the branches were lit, and the whole scene would have a touch of magic. She found herself wishing that she could be a guest at Cecily’s birthday ball. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she breathed. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it in my whole life.’

‘It’s Sir Gregory demonstrating his affluence to the rest of the world.’ Gideon shook his head. ‘I’m sure he could do something better with his money.’

‘But it’s for his daughter’s birthday.’

‘Yes, of course, and Cessy deserves the best.’ Gideon controlled his frightened mount as a smart phaeton bowled past, coming to a sudden halt just yards away.

‘Who is that?’ Sally struggled to calm Flower as the horse reared in fright.

‘He’s Cessy’s father, and he’s spotted us.’

Sir Gregory leaped down from the vehicle, flinging the reins to a groom. ‘Lawrence, I thought it was you.’

A boy rushed up and swept away the snow as his master strode across the gravel carriage sweep, but Sir Gregory waved him away with an impatient flick of his gloved fingers.

‘Save your efforts for the ladies, boy.’ Sir Gregory came to a halt beside Flower, eyeing her up and down with an appreciative nod. ‘That’s a fine piece of horseflesh the young boy is riding. Let me see how she moves.’

‘I’m not a boy,’ Sally said crossly. ‘And this is my horse, sir.’

‘What the devil is a girl doing dressed like a ragamuffin?’ Sir Gregory glared at Sally as if her outfit was an affront in itself. ‘I don’t believe you own such a thoroughbred. Is the animal stolen?’

‘No, indeed. Flower is my horse, sir.’

Sir Gregory turned to Gideon. ‘Is this the animal my daughter has been pestering me to purchase for her?’

‘Yes, sir. But Miss Suggs is not certain that she wants to sell.’

‘Nonsense. Everyone has a price. Walk on, girl. Show me what the little lady can do, but I warn you – I’m an excellent judge of horseflesh. You won’t get a penny piece from me unless I approve.’

Chapter Five

Sally was tempted to turn Flower’s head and ride off in the direction of home, but above all she wanted to wipe the smirk off Sir Gregory’s face, and she put Flower through her paces. A capriole was followed by a showy pirouette and a series of dressage movements, ending in a beautifully executed piaffe.

‘Impressive!’ Sir Gregory said grudgingly. ‘Are you a circus rider, girl?’

‘No, sir. I’m a rag-and-bone man’s daughter.’ Sally could not resist the temptation to put the pompous man in his place. His smart attire did not disguise his portly figure, and the starched white collar and cravat did not flatter his florid complexion. At this moment he looked as though he might have an apoplectic fit, and he reminded her forcibly of Rags Roper, whose ramshackle warehouse at the back of the Imperial Gasworks was somewhere she did her best to avoid. Kelly had his uses, and one of them was accompanying her when she was forced to haggle for the best price for her goods with Rags, with whom no woman under ninety was safe.

‘I suppose you think that’s funny, boy!’

‘It’s the truth.’ Sally took off her cap and shook out her long dark hair. ‘And I am a girl, as you see.’

Sir Gregory was silent for a few seconds. ‘I’ve never seen a woman ride like that.’

‘Neither have I.’ Gideon leaned over to stroke Flower’s neck. ‘This little mare is amazing, and you are an excellent horsewoman, Sally. I can see now why you want to keep Flower.’

‘Well, now, I haven’t made my offer yet,’ Sir Gregory said hastily. ‘Of course, all that fancy business isn’t much use to my daughter. Cecily rides like a lady, but I do like that piece of horseflesh. She would be good breeding stock.’

Sally exchanged worried glances with Gideon. ‘I haven’t said I’d let her go yet. I want to see where she’ll be stabled, and I’d like to find out who will look after her.’

‘I’m the one with the bargaining power,’ Sir Gregory said testily. ‘I decide the terms, not you, miss.’

‘Then you’d better find another mount for your daughter, Sir Gregory. Flower means everything to me.’

‘But you could purchase another work horse,’ Gideon said softly. ‘Think about it, Sally. You have your father to support until he is fit enough to work, if ever.’

Sally nodded reluctantly. ‘You’re right, of course, but Flower’s welfare is important too.’

‘Make up your mind, miss.’ Sir Gregory put one foot on the bottom step. ‘I haven’t got all day, and my patience is running out.’

‘Papa. You’re home, and in good time.’ Cecily emerged from the house and ran down the steps, her velvet cloak wrapped tightly around her. She threw her arms around her father. ‘I thought you must have been delayed in town.’

Sir Gregory’s pinched features softened into a fond smile. ‘Nothing would keep me away at such an important time, sweetheart.’

‘And you’re here, too, Gideon.’ Cecily shielded her eyes from the brilliance of the sunlight reflecting on the fallen snow. ‘And Miss Suggs has brought the horse. What do you think, Papa? Will you buy it for me?’

‘Of course, darling. If that’s what you want. Although you should have a ride first. The animal is highly strung and you might not be able to control it.’

‘I’m an excellent horsewoman, aren’t I, Gideon?’ Cecily turned to him with an appealing smile.

‘Yes, you are, Cessy. But your father is right. Flower might not suit you.’

‘Then I’ll go and change into my riding habit. I’ll prove you both wrong.’ Cecily turned on her heel, picked up her skirts and hurried back to the house.

Sir Gregory smiled and shook his head. ‘My little pet can be wilful, but that only adds to her charm. Come indoors and share a glass of Madeira with me, Gideon.’ He eyed Sally, frowning. ‘Take the animal to my head groom, Jackson, and tell him to put a side-saddle on her. He’ll show you round, but I can assure you that the stables here at Fleet Hall are the finest you will find anywhere in the country.’ He made his way up the steps, pausing in the doorway to beckon to Gideon.

‘Are you sure you’re all right with this, Sally,’ Gideon asked in a low voice. ‘If you find it all too much, I’ll understand.’

‘I have very little choice, but I want to be sure that Cecily can manage Flower properly.’

‘Hurry up, Lawrence.’ Sir Gregory disappeared into the entrance hall. ‘Stafford, we’ll have a bottle of Madeira in the study, chop-chop.’

The stable block was almost more impressive than the mansion itself. Sally had been too anxious to take much notice of her surroundings on her first visit. She knew very little about architecture, but it was obvious even to the uninitiated, that the elegant buildings had been erected in the previous century. For some unknown reason they had escaped demolition when Sir Gregory’s father decided that the neo-classical style of building was old-fashioned and outdated. The two-storey block had been constructed around a large cobbled yard and the stabling, accommodation and coach house were reached through an impressive archway. Sally drew Flower to a halt and dismounted. A stable boy rushed up to her but she held on to Flower’s reins. ‘I need to speak to Mr Jackson,’ she said firmly.

‘He’s busy, miss. Got his hands full today with all the goings-on.’

‘Sir Gregory told me to ask for Mr Jackson.’

The boy gazed at her with big brown eyes and backed away. ‘Yes, miss.’ He ran off and minutes later Jackson emerged from a doorway on the far side of the yard. His unhurried gait suggested a man who was used to command.

‘What can I do for you, miss?’

‘Sir Gregory wants my horse saddled up for Miss Appleton to ride.’

‘Very well, miss.’ Jackson signalled to the stable boy, who was waiting a few yards away. ‘Fetch Miss Cecily’s side-saddle.’

‘Yes, guv.’ The boy raced off into what Sally assumed must be the tack room. The scent of leather, dubbin, horseflesh, hay and dung was so familiar that Sally immediately thought of their cramped quarters above the stable in Paradise Row. The animals here lived in total luxury compared to the narrow stall inhabited by Flower.

‘Do I take it that Miss Cecily wants to keep this animal?’ Jackson asked curtly.

‘Yes, she does.’

Jackson walked slowly round Flower, running his hand over her body with an expert touch. ‘She’s a nice Andalusian mare, but no good for hunting.’

‘Does Miss Cecily ride to hounds?’

‘Occasionally, but I’d say that this is a horse trained in classic dressage. Am I right?’

‘My mother was a performer at Astley’s. She bred Flower from her own mare and she trained her.’

‘Well, she’s docile enough. Miss Cecily is a good rider, and she prefers a quiet animal.’

‘Flower is very well behaved. She has an excellent temperament, but I haven’t decided whether I’m going to part with her.’

Jackson gave her a calculating look. ‘If Miss Cecily really wants her you could name your price.’

‘My main concern is that Flower would be well cared for.’ Sally was impressed by the immaculately kept yard, but she did not want to give too much away. She could imagine Jackson repeating their entire conversation to his master, putting his own interpretation on her words.

‘You won’t find a better run stable anywhere in the country,’ Jackson said, echoing Sir Gregory’s words. ‘I suggest you take a look round now. Your horse will be saddled up and waiting when you’ve done.’

‘Thank you, I will.’ Sally had no reason to doubt Jackson, but she was curious and she wanted to see how the wealthy took care of their horses. She explored the stables, avoiding the tack room where the grooms and stable boys were eating their midday meal, and she could not help but be impressed. A large bunch of mistletoe pinned to the lintel made her smile. In this entirely male domain, they would have difficulty finding any pretty young females to kiss. She dragged her thoughts back to the business in hand, and she had to admit that everywhere was spotlessly clean; the horses were healthy and well-groomed. She walked back to where Jackson waited with Flower, who was saddled up and ready to go. Sally could see that her horse was prepared to give the performance of her life, and she felt her heart swell with pride.

‘Do you ride side-saddle, miss?’ Jackson asked curiously.

‘Yes, and I can ride bareback, too. Ma taught me well.’

‘You said that your mother performed at Astley’s Amphitheatre. It seems to me, although it’s none of my business, that you could do well there yourself.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘I saw you putting your horse through her paces when you were here previously. Very impressive, miss.’

‘Thank you, but you should have seen my mother when she performed. She was brilliant and I fear I’ll never live up to the standard she set. Anyway, I’d best take Flower back to the house. I’m sure Miss Cecily must be ready by now.’

Jackson gave her a wry smile. ‘I wouldn’t bet on it, miss.’

Sally led Flower over to the mounting block. She was surprised to find the side-saddle more comfortable than she had anticipated, and she felt quite secure.

‘Miss Cecily should be ready by now,’ Jackson said with an encouraging nod.

‘Yes, thank you. I’d almost forgotten Miss Cecily. Walk on, Flower. Let’s get this over and done with.’

Cecily was waiting at the foot of the steps and she did not look pleased. ‘What kept you? I’ve been waiting a full five minutes, haven’t I, Stafford?’

‘I believe so, Miss Cecily.’

‘And I didn’t give you permission to use my saddle,’ Cecily continued crossly.

Sally dismounted. ‘You would’ve waited longer had I walked back from the stables. Do you want a leg-up?’

‘Don’t be vulgar,’ Cecily said, sniffing disdainfully. ‘Stafford, you may lift me onto the saddle as there is no mounting block to hand.’

Stafford muttered something unintelligible, and stepped forward to hoist her onto the saddle. It was not very dignified and Sally had to turn her head away as she struggled to control a chuckle. Cecily, however, seemed determined to prove herself as an excellent horsewoman and she used her crop to encourage Flower from a walk to a trot. Sally was tempted to shout at Cecily, but she managed to stop herself. This was going to be far more difficult than she had imagined. However, Cecily seemed satisfied with her own performance, but suddenly she reined in too hard for Flower’s soft mouth, causing the animal to rear on her hind legs in alarm.

‘That’s not the way,’ Sally said angrily. ‘Flower has a very sensitive mouth. She needs just a little tightening on the reins, or a command and she’ll do what you wish.’

‘Lift me down Stafford.’ Cecily held out her arms like a small child and Stafford stepped forward to oblige. He set her gently on the ground and stood back. ‘You may go now,’ Cecily said sharply. She turned back to Sally, frowning. ‘I will take the animal for a trial period, as we agreed, but she needs schooling to suit my needs.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Sally said carefully. ‘Do you mean that you want to retrain my horse?’

‘Well, yes.’ Cecily tossed her head. ‘I’m not a circus rider, nor a rag-and-bone man’s daughter. I like the look of her, she’s a pretty little mare, but she will have to learn to do as I bid her.’

‘I didn’t agree to your proposition, and now I know why. Nothing in the world would persuade me to leave Flower in your care. You don’t know how to handle a horse.’ Sally unbuckled the saddle and dropped it at Cecily’s feet. ‘You can have your property back – I don’t want to be accused of stealing.’ She swung herself onto Flower’s back and rode off in the direction of the stables.

If Jackson was surprised to see her riding bareback into the yard he kept his thoughts to himself, and he sent the boy to fetch Sally’s saddle.

‘You might want to send one of your lads to fetch the one belonging to Miss Cecily,’ Sally said awkwardly. ‘I’m afraid I lost my temper when she handled Flower badly, and I dropped the saddle on the ground at her feet. She’s not having my horse, and that’s that.’

A muscle twitched at the corner of Jackson’s mouth. ‘I’d have given a week’s pay to see her face,’ he said solemnly. ‘It’s probably the first time that anyone has refused her anything.’ He held out his hand to the stable boy who had come running up to them, puffing beneath the weight of saddle. ‘Give it here, boy. You’ll allow me to do this for you, miss. It’s my pleasure.’

Sally’s one thought was to get as far away from Fleet Hall as possible. She knew she ought to have returned to the farm, but that would have entailed explanations to Mr and Mrs Wallace, not to mention Gideon. It felt as though she was throwing his kindness back in his face, but she did not want to enter into an argument about the rights and wrongs of her decision to keep Flower. She knew that it defied common sense, and that she might regret it bitterly when she returned to the reality of life in Paradise Row, but she could not bring herself to leave her precious horse in the care of an over-indulged young woman like Cecily Appleton.

* * *

It was a long and difficult ride home. The snow had turned to slush and then it started to freeze, but Flower was sure-footed and Sally trusted her even in such adverse circumstances. It was pitch dark by the time Sally reached home, but a glimmer of candlelight in the window above the stables was all the welcome she needed. Christmas in Paradise Row might not be as glamorous as a birthday ball in Highgate, but it was home and she was glad to be there at last. As she let herself into the stable, she was surprised to see an occupant in Boney’s old stall, which she recognised as Kelly’s horse. She made Flower comfortable while she went upstairs, following the sound of male voices and Pippy’s excited barking. The moment Sally opened the door she was met by an ecstatic little dog, who leaped into her arms and proceeded to lick her face.

‘Sally, love. I didn’t expect to see you tonight.’ Ted half raised himself from his chair, sinking back with a grimace of pain. ‘Look who came to keep me company on Christmas Eve.’

‘That was kind of you, Kelly,’ Sally said warily. She set Pippy on the floor and bent down to stroke her until she quietened down.

‘I can be a decent fellow when it suits me,’ Kelly countered, chuckling. ‘Ted and I have been talking about old times when trade was good.’

‘Kelly bought me a pie from Mrs Maggs. He saved me the trouble of having to listen to her prattling on about how hard it is for a poor widow woman to make a living.’

‘And you’ve enjoyed a pitcher of ale from the jug and bottle, I see.’ Sally tried to maintain a frown, but she could not help smiling at the guilty expressions on their faces.

‘So how did your trip to the country go?’ Kelly asked casually.

‘I couldn’t bring myself to leave Flower there.’ Sally sank down on the worn seat of an armchair that had, like everything else in their accommodation, seen better days. Pippy took this as an invitation to jump onto her lap. ‘Miss Appleton is a spoiled young woman who knows nothing about horses. I couldn’t entrust Flower to someone who only wants her so that she can show off.’ Sally turned to her father. ‘I’m so sorry, Pa. I just couldn’t abandon Flower, even though the stables are quite palatial and there were plenty of people to look after her.’

‘How much did they offer for her, love?’ Ted asked wearily.

‘I didn’t stop to find out, Pa. Miss Appleton would have ruined Flower’s mouth, and broken her spirit.’

‘Best find another buyer then,’ Kelly said casually.

Ted heaved a sigh. ‘What did your friend Mr Lawrence have to say about it, Sal?’

‘I left without telling him.’ Sally slid Pippy to the floor as she rose to her feet. She walked over to the small window, staring down at the wet cobblestones, noting that it had begun to snow again. ‘I know it was wrong, and I should have stayed to explain, but I just wanted to get away as quickly as possible. I hope he doesn’t turn Boney out because of me.’

‘Why would he do that?’ Ted’s voice shook with emotion. ‘Poor old Boney has earned a happy retirement.’

‘Gideon Lawrence is virtually engaged to Miss Cecily, so he might take exception to the way I behaved.’

‘Good luck to him. That’s what I say.’ Kelly rose to his feet. ‘It sounds as if he’ll be taking on a handful if he weds her. Anyway, I should be going. It’s getting late and I’m sure you want to get some sleep, Ted.’

‘I’m very grateful for the supper and your company, Kelly. You’ll come again soon, won’t you?’

‘I will, unless Sally objects to entertaining a rogue like me.’

Sally shook her head. ‘Why do you always put me in the wrong, Kelly? You know you’re welcome to come and keep Pa company whenever you feel like it.’ She followed Kelly downstairs to the stable. ‘I have to give Flower a good rub down before I settle her for the night.’

Kelly led his horse from the stall. ‘What will you do for money now?’

‘I don’t know and that’s the truth, but I’ll think of something and I will pay back the half sovereign you loaned me.’

‘I’m not worried about that, girl. What does concern me is how you and your father are going to manage?’

‘Why would that worry you? It means that we’re not competing for business. I thought that would make you happy.’

He shook his head. ‘I play fair when it comes to my friends. As I said before, your pa was good to me when I first started out, and now he’s the one who needs help.’

‘I’ll find work,’ Sally said with more conviction than she was feeling. ‘Josie is always saying that the Grindles have difficulty in finding reliable servants. Maybe I could work for them.’

‘I know that family. Old Grindle is a miser, and the rubbish they throw out is only fit for the nearest dust heap.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Sally said, laughing.

‘Be careful, that’s all.’ Kelly was serious for once. ‘There are plenty of people out there who will take advantage of your present situation. You and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, but you can call on me any time you need help.’

‘Thank you, Kelly, and Merry Christmas.’ She was about to enter Flower’s stall when a feeling of dizziness almost overcame her and she reached out to clutch the wooden partition.

‘Are you all right, Sally?’

She heard Kelly’s voice coming from far away and she nodded. ‘Yes. I’m fine.’

‘When did you last have something to eat?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said faintly. ‘I can’t remember.’

Kelly pulled up a stool and pressed her gently onto the seat. ‘I thought as much. Sit there until I come back. Mrs Maggs will have closed her shop, but Jarvis will still be open for business if I hurry. That man works late, even on Christmas Eve.’ He left without giving her a chance to argue and Sally leaned back against the bare brick wall, closing her eyes until the world stopped spinning around her. It was only then that she realised she had eaten nothing since the refreshments that Mrs Wallace had provided, and that was hours ago.

She was more than ready to accept the food that Kelly purchased for her, despite the fact that the pie contained more gristle than meat and the bread rolls might have been freshly baked that morning, but they were now dry and stale. Kelly leaned against the wooden stall, watching her closely.

‘You need to take better care of yourself, girl.’

Sally swallowed the last of the pastry. ‘I know. I was so eager to get home that I forgot about eating. Thank you for the food, Kelly. How much do I owe you?’

He laughed. ‘Don’t worry about that. Old Jarvis likes to sell off the day’s leftovers at knock-down price, otherwise the rats have a free meal during the night.’

‘Maybe, but I will pay you back somehow, Kelly.’

‘Have it your own way – I know you will, whatever I say. By the way, since you won’t be able to do Ted’s round, I’m taking it over. I’ve told him as much, and he doesn’t mind.’

‘It doesn’t look as though we’ve much choice. I never thought I’d say this, but I suppose it’s better you have Pa’s round than one of the other totters.’

‘I knew you’d come to my way of thinking in the end.’ Kelly tipped his hat. ‘I’ll say goodnight, but when your friend the veterinary surgeon puts in an appearance, which I’m sure he will – make sure you stick to your guns. Don’t let him or anyone talk you into giving up Flower, unless it’s what you decide is right for her and for you. Merry Christmas, Sally.’ He led his horse out into the street, closing the door behind him.

Now that he was no longer there, with his larger-than-life presence filling the room, Sally began to wonder if she had been selfish in her refusal to let Flower go, but she had only to look into her horse’s intelligent eyes to confirm that her decision had been the right one. However, that did not solve her present predicament. If they wanted to eat she would have to pawn the only material thing she had that belonged to her mother, which was the narrow band of gold that Ted had slipped on Ma’s finger twenty-two years ago. Sally had pawned it once before and she had been loath to let it go, even for a short while, but this time it might be gone for good. She was about to take it from its hiding place in a small box concealed behind a loose brick, when Kelly barged in without bothering to knock.

‘Kelly!’ Sally stared at him in surprise. ‘Have you forgotten something?’

‘I’ll come straight to the point. I’ve had second thoughts about the old heap of wood in your yard. I might have some use for it after all.’

‘Are you referring to Pa’s cart?’

‘The very same. I’m thinking of training up someone to help me on my rounds, and as I’m taking over your Pa’s route, I’ll need another cart. I’ll give you a guinea for it, and you can forget the ten shillings you owe me.’

‘But you told me that the cart was worthless.’

Kelly tilted his top hat at a rakish angle and grinned. ‘That’s business, mavourneen. Anyway, my better self has come forward, as it’s Christmas. So what about it?’

‘You really are a rogue, aren’t you?’ Sally said with a reluctant smile.

‘Guilty, as charged. But I have a conscience when it comes to dealing with friends.’

‘Are you serious, Kelly? Or is this one of your jokes.’

Kelly rolled his eyes, holding his hand to his heart. ‘Do I look as if I’m joking? Of course I meant it.’

‘I don’t know whether to hug you or to slap you for being such a torment.’

‘A hug would be nice, mavourneen.’ Kelly blew her a kiss as he stepped outside into the street.

Sally locked the door after him, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

* * *

Next morning, refreshed after a surprisingly good night’s sleep, Sally was up early. It was not yet light and she decided to take Flower for a ride in Regent’s Park. It was Christmas Day and the streets were deserted of traffic, apart from the odd hansom cab, and they had Rotten Row all to themselves. The ground was too hard and icy for a gallop, nevertheless it was a brisk ride and Sally was certain that Flower enjoyed it as much as she did. This was the time of day she loved when the city still slumbered, and the world seemed to be starting anew. Thanks to Kelly’s unusual generosity, they would have enough food to eat and a week’s supply of coal, kindling and candles. There was money to pay the rent, although Sally knew that she would have to find work soon, or they would be in the same predicament as before.

As she rode slowly home through the park and the gaslit cobbled streets, she could not help wondering whether Gideon had proposed to Cecily at the ball. Sally had glimpsed a world far removed from the way people lived in Paradise Row, and although she did not envy them their riches, the brief experience had left her feeling oddly unsettled. She told herself that she did not care what happened to Gideon, and if he married for money that was none of her business, but even so she had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had always been told that wealth did not necessarily bring happiness, and now she had seen it first-hand. She leaned forward to pat Flower’s sleek neck.

‘You and I are still together, Flower, and that’s the way it’s going to stay. We’re happy as we are, living in Paradise Row.’

The sound of church bells ringing out joyously reminded Sally that it was Christmas morning, but there was little sign of festivity in Paradise Row. When she reined in Flower outside the stable she was surprised to see a shadowy shape wrapped in a voluminous cloak, hovering in the doorway.

Chapter Six

‘Mrs Maggs? Is that you?’

‘I’ve been knocking on the door for the past ten minutes,’ Mrs Maggs said peevishly. ‘I was beginning to think you’d gone away.’

Sally dismounted and unlocked the door. ‘Is anything wrong?’

‘I thought I’d bring you and your pa a little gift. In accordance with the spirit of the season, you understand.’ From beneath the cloak Mrs Maggs produced a loaf of bread, still warm from the oven, and a saucepan. An appetising aroma wafted into the frosty air as she lifted the lid. ‘Frumenty,’ she said triumphantly. ‘My own special recipe with the addition of a tot of rum, plump raisins and egg yolks. This will set you and your dear pa up for the day.’

‘That’s incredibly kind of you, ma’am.’ Sally ushered Mrs Maggs into the stable before leading Flower to her stall. ‘Will you share it with us?’ she added, hoping that her father would put a brave face on having to take breakfast with Mrs Maggs and her hairy wart.

Mrs Maggs beamed from ear to ear. ‘Well, that’s uncommon kind of you, Miss Sally. But I have to get back to the shop. You’d be surprised how many people need my services. I do good business by opening up on Christmas Day.’

‘Perhaps you’d like to have supper with us this evening.’ Sally knew her father would object, but it was obvious that the poor woman was very lonely.

‘Oh, my! Well, I’d like nothing better, but you must allow me to bring something to the feast. I have a York ham, cooked to perfection. I’ll bring what’s left after I’ve served my regulars, and that together with a glass or two of rum punch will go down very nicely.’

‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Sally said, steering her towards the door. ‘Now I mustn’t keep you from your shop, but we’ll see you at six o’clock this evening.’

‘I’ll be there.’ Mrs Maggs stepped outside. ‘Merry Christmas, my dear.’

‘Compliments of the season to you, Mrs Maggs.’ Sally put the pan on the bottom stair tread and went to close the door. Quite what her father would say was another matter, but Mrs Maggs was a kind-hearted soul and the frumenty smelled delicious.

Having settled Flower with a fresh supply of hay, Sally took the saucepan upstairs to set it on the trivet by the fire where it would keep warm until her father rose from his bed. She was in the process of making a pot of tea when she heard someone banging on the stable door, and she hurried to answer the urgent summons.

‘It’s you again, Kelly,’ Sally said crossly. ‘I thought there must be a fire at least.’

He tipped his hat. ‘I’ve come for the cart, but I’ve also brought a little seasonal cheer for Ted.’ He put his hand in the pocket of his greatcoat and took out a bottle of brandy, and from behind his back he produced a fruit cake decorated with glacé fruit and nuts. ‘Brandy for Ted and the cake is for you. I’d like to think of you having a nice festive meal, even though I’ll be taking supper alone.’

Sally resisted the urge to laugh. Kelly was the most unsubtle person she had ever met. ‘Are you angling for an invitation to share a meal with us this evening?’

‘Me? No! Would I be so crass as to invite myself to dinner with old friends, even if I have done them a great favour by taking a worm-eaten cart off their hands?’

‘Stop! You’ll have me in tears in a moment. You are most welcome to share our supper tonight. Come at six o’clock and we’ll eat together.’

Kelly’s face split in a wide grin. ‘Thank you, mavourneen. I knew I could rely on your kindness. Now, I’ve got my old nag outside. I’ll take him round to the back to collect the cart, if you’ll be kind enough to unlock the gate.’

‘I’ll do that with pleasure.’ Sally was tempted to tell him that she had already invited Mrs Maggs to dine with them, but she decided to let him find out for himself. At least his presence meant that Pa would have someone other than the over-eager Mrs Maggs to entertain.

Later, after Kelly had harnessed his horse to the cart and taken the last of the unwanted items that Ted had collected, Sally closed the gates and locked them. It was the end of the rag-and-bone trade for the Suggs family and she felt sad for her father, and for herself. The last links with her mother were rapidly disappearing and sometimes she had difficulty in picturing Ma’s lovely face. It felt as if a mist was gradually blotting out the past, and as yet the future was unknown. Sally put such thoughts behind her and hurried upstairs to wake her father. She would share the breakfast treat with him, after which she would break the news that she had invited Mrs Maggs to supper.

Ted was dismayed at first, but the knowledge that Kelly would also be joining them cheered him up to the extent that he was gracious about Mrs Maggs and her hairy wart.

‘The poor woman will never find another husband.’ Ted scraped the last of the frumenty from his bowl. ‘But I’ll say this for her, she’s a fine cook. Maybe someone with failing eyesight would take her on.’

‘Don’t be cruel, Pa,’ Sally said, trying not to laugh. ‘She can’t help her looks and she is very generous.’

‘Is there any more of that frumenty left, Sal? I haven’t tasted anything like that for many a year. Your dear mother wasn’t a good cook, although, to be fair, we haven’t much in the way of cooking facilities, so I couldn’t expect either of you to learn. You say Mrs Maggs is bringing a York ham for supper?’

‘Yes, Pa. That’s right.’

‘In that case I’ll do my best to be civil. Where’s my best cravat, love? It is Christmas after all.’

That evening Sally changed into the only dress she owned. It was plain linsey-woolsey in a delicate shade of blue with a high neck and a full skirt that accentuated her tiny waist. Her dark hair was confined in a chignon at the back of her neck, but strands escaped and curled wildly about her forehead. She had long ago given up all attempts to tame her rebellious locks into the fashionable smooth hairstyles adopted by Queen Victoria and her ladies. Vanity, she hoped, was not her besetting sin, but sometimes it was nice to dress like a woman instead of looking like a stable boy. She knew by the appreciative expression on Kelly’s face that the change in her appearance was a success, and Mrs Maggs remarked on the difference that clothes could make.

‘Fine feathers make fine birds,’ she said tipsily, after the second glass of a potent rum punch concocted by Kelly.

Sally suspected that he had been overgenerous with the spirit and mean with the water, but the spices and sugar made it very palatable. She had never seen her father so relaxed and he made an effort to be civil to Mrs Maggs, who had lived up to her promise. Not only had she brought what was left of the York ham, but out of her capacious basket she produced a large pork pie and a bottle of port. The meal went down well and afterwards, when they could eat no more, they sat round the fire and Kelly amused them with tales of his exploits. Sally joined in the laughter, even though she did not believe a word he said. Then, having drunk a glass or two of port, Mrs Maggs fell asleep in the armchair by the fire, snoring gently, with her double chins resting on her generous bosom. Ted brought out a pack of playing cards and Kelly lit a cigar for himself. He handed another to his host and they sat opposite each other at the table, glasses of punch at hand while they played. Pippy had eaten her fill of scraps from the table and she curled up on the hearth. Sally took the opportunity to go down to the stable to make sure that Flower was comfortable. She took a curry comb from the shelf and began to groom Flower, talking to her as if she were a human.

‘You would have had the best of everything at Fleet Hall. Was I wrong to keep you here?’

Flower turned her head, gazing mutely at Sally with soft brown eyes.

‘You can’t answer that, of course. But I wonder if Gideon did propose to Miss Cecily. She’s beautiful, and she’s very rich. He would own that huge house one day, and all the land around it. Who in their right mind would miss such an opportunity to better themselves? But perhaps he doesn’t love her. What do you think Flower?’

‘You won’t get a sensible answer from her, Sally. She can’t speak.’ Kelly’s amused voice broke into Sally’s reverie and she dropped the curry comb.

‘You made me jump.’ She turned her head and saw that he was supporting a very tipsy Mrs Maggs.

‘Open the door for us, mavourneen,’ Kelly said, chuckling. ‘The lady is a bit tired, so I’m seeing her safely home. Maybe you could come with us. I think she might need putting to bed, and I don’t think she’d approve of having me in her room.’

‘Of course I will.’ Sally retrieved the curry comb and placed it back on the shelf. ‘I’ll finish it off later, Flower,’ she told the horse apologetically.

Together they managed to get Mrs Maggs to her shop next door, and it took both of them to manoeuvre her up the narrow staircase to her room.

‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Kelly said from the doorway. ‘I’m going back to finish my game with Ted.’

‘Thank you, Kelly.’

‘Thanks for what?’

‘Thank you for everything. It’s been a long time since I last saw Pa so happy. You’re good for him.’

‘That means I must be good for you, too.’

She tugged at the strings of Mrs Maggs’s corset. ‘Go away. This isn’t the sight for a gentleman. But I did mean it, Kelly. You’ve made our Christmas a happy one, and I was afraid it would be miserable.’

‘Always glad to oblige.’ Kelly backed out onto the narrow landing and Sally heard his booted feet clattering on the wooden stair treads. She sighed. It had been a pleasant evening, but what would happen in the future was still anyone’s guess. She had never felt so unsettled in her life.

Mrs Maggs stirred and opened one eye as Sally covered her with a quilt. ‘Is there any more port, dear?’

‘I think you’ve had quite enough, Mrs Maggs.’ Sally laid the large corsets on a chair beside the bed. ‘Thank you for the ham and the pie.’

‘My pleasure.’ Mrs Maggs rolled onto her side and began snoring loudly.

Sally took the opportunity to leave the shop and returned home. The parlour was thick with cigar smoke and the fire blazed up the chimney. It was a profligate waste of expensive coal, but she could not begrudge her father his comfort, or the companionship of a former business rival. She was happy to see Pa enjoying himself, and with Pippy at her heels, Sally went to her room, leaving them to finish their game.

Next morning the smell of stale cigar smoke and alcohol fumes lingered in the parlour as Sally cleared away the debris. She wondered whether Mrs Maggs was up and about, or whether she would be suffering from the after-effects of imbibing too much punch and port. Sally took a bucket of ashes downstairs to the back yard, which was covered by a fresh fall of snow, shining pure and pristine in the light of early dawn. It seemed impossible to think that just a few short days ago the yard had been piled high with the unsold remainder of their collection, but Kelly had cleared everything away including the last scraps of iron. However, knowing him as she did, Sally suspected that he would manage to make money from each piece, down to the last rusty nail. She trod carefully on the frozen surface, taking care not to slip and spill the contents of the pail as she opened the gate. She walked to the ash-pit at the end of the back alley where she emptied the contents, to be collected later by the city dustmen. It was still very early but it was a working day and Paradise Row was already buzzing with life. The better-off householders in the nearby streets and squares would still be sleeping off the excesses of their Christmas celebrations, while their servants lit fires, emptied night-soil and began preparations for breakfast. The workers who lived in the poorer area were already hurrying to their places of employment, to begin another long day. Trains were leaving the station accompanied by shrieks of steam whistles, and in the goods yard the sound of engines shunting, and the rattle and bumps of the buffer and chain couplings vied with the blaring of factory hooters summoning people to work.

Sally had a sudden longing for the peace and quiet of the countryside. Hill Farm had seemed like heaven on earth, but she doubted if she would ever see it again. She would not blame Gideon if he refused to see her after the way she had left so abruptly, not once, but twice. She wrapped her shawl more tightly around herself and hurried as fast as the slippery conditions would allow, making her way back to the stable. What had happened was in the past, and there was little she could do about it now. Life had to go on and she must concentrate on finding work, or else face the prospect of eviction if she could not raise the next month’s rent. Number seventeen Paradise Row might not be much compared to Hill Farm or the magnificent Fleet Hall, but it was the only home she had ever known, and losing it would be heart-breaking.

Sally went about her usual morning tasks of filling the empty bucket with coal and another with water from the pump. She made sure that Flower was comfortable before she went upstairs to light the fire and put the kettle on the trivet. She had just got a reasonable blaze going when her father staggered into the room.

He clutched his hand to his head. ‘I shouldn’t have had that second glass of brandy last night. It’s all Kelly’s fault. He encouraged me to drink.’

‘You didn’t need much encouragement, as I remember it, Pa.’ Sally replaced the bellows on their hook by the fire and rose to her feet. ‘You’ll feel better when you’ve had a nice hot cup of tea and some toast.’

Ted sank down on his favourite chair. ‘What? No frumenty?’

‘We ate it all yesterday. I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with toast. That’s if you don’t mind using the toasting fork yourself.’

‘My head aches and my throat is dry. I don’t fancy toast, Sal.’

‘I’ll get you some seltzer when I go out, Pa.’

Ted eyed her warily. ‘Kelly is a good man.’

‘Yes, I suppose he is.’

‘There’s no suppose about it, love. You could do worse.’

Sally stared at him in amazement. ‘What are you saying, Pa?’

‘He’s doing well, and he’s in the trade. You’d be well looked after.’

‘Pa! Finn Kelly is a rogue. You’ve always said so.’

‘A man can change his opinion.’ Ted stared moodily into the fire. ‘Like I said, you could do worse. Don’t turn your back on an old friend.’

‘You’ll feel better after a cup of tea. I’m going to Mrs Maggs’s shop for some milk. Maybe she’s got some seltzer. She stocks all sort of things.’

‘Think about what I said. We could live here for ever if you was to marry Kelly. He could use our yard, and stable one of his horses here.’

‘Is this your idea, Pa? Or did Kelly say anything about me?’

‘He didn’t have to, love. I can always tell when a man fancies a woman.’

‘You’re imagining things, Pa.’ Sally picked up the empty milk jug from the table and reached for her shawl. ‘I’ll be back in two ticks.’

She did not wait for him to argue.

In the stable Flower was pawing the ground as if asking to be taken out for a long ride, but Sally let herself out into the street and went next door to Mrs Maggs’s shop. To her surprise the lady herself was busy serving as if nothing had happened. The tipsy woman from last evening had been transformed into the businesswoman. She had changed into a clean frock, with a spanking white pinafore and mobcap.

‘Good morning, Mrs Maggs,’ Sally said when it was her turn to be served.

Mrs Maggs pulled a face as the previous customer slammed out of the shop. ‘It says clearly “No credit”, but some people either can’t read or they think they can bamboozle me into giving them stuff on tick.’

Sally handed her the jug. ‘Would you be kind enough to fill this, please, and have you any seltzer powders? I’m afraid Pa is feeling a little worse for wear this morning.’

‘Poor dear. I don’t hold with strong drink, but it was the festive season, and he could be forgiven for overindulging.’ She dipped the jug in a large milk churn, shook off the excess and handed it back to Sally. ‘As it happens I do keep seltzers in, as the drunkards round here often ask for them, if they don’t want to bother the apothecary or it’s too far for them to stagger.’

Sally accepted the powders wrapped in slips of paper and paid for her purchases while Mrs Maggs went on and on about the good time she had had the previous evening. It was a relief when another customer breezed into the shop, followed by some young boys, who sidled round, peering into the open boxes of broken biscuits and fingering the goods. Mrs Maggs was round the counter in a flash.

‘Get out of here you young scallywags. You don’t get nothing unless you’ve got the money.’

The boys fled, but stopped outside, staring longingly at the food displayed in the window. Sally had also made her escape, but she hesitated, eyeing the boys who were skinny, dirty and barefooted, even though there was still slushy snow on the pavement. She opened her purse and took out some coppers. ‘Here, boys. Go to the pie man and buy something to eat. Mind you spend it on food, though.’

The eldest of the three snatched the money. ‘Ta, miss. We ain’t eaten since the day afore yesterday.’

‘Where are you parents?’ It was a silly question – Sally knew the answer without waiting to hear the excuses the boys made. She had seen it all before. ‘Come with me, boys. I want to make sure you buy food for yourselves. I don’t want you giving the money to your good-for-nothing dad to spend on drink or tobacco.’

There was a stall on the corner, close to the station, and Sally knew the stallholder. ‘Good morning, Ned.’

He tipped his cap. ‘Morning, Sally. What have we here?’ He eyed the boys suspiciously.

‘Give them what they want to eat and some tea with lots of sugar, please.’

The eldest boy eyed her warily. ‘Why would you treat the likes of us?’

‘Don’t ask questions, Jim.’ His younger brother grabbed a ham roll that Ned offered him, and he passed it to the youngest boy. ‘Eat it slowly now, Benny. Don’t gobble.’

‘Ta, Eddie.’ The smallest boy took a bite and was about to hand it back to his brother when Sally stopped him.

‘That’s yours Benny. You may have one each,’ Sally said hastily.

‘You shouldn’t encourage them. You’ll have a whole pack of guttersnipes on your heels if word gets round.’ Reluctantly, Ned handed two more rolls to the eldest boy. ‘I know your sort, Jim Cotton. Your dad is a wrong ’un.’

Jim snatched the food, and passed one roll to his younger brother before taking a bite from his own. ‘I won’t argue with that, but it ain’t our fault,’ he said, swallowing a mouthful of bread and ham. ‘Ta, miss. We won’t tell no one what you just done.’

Sally gazed at Benny’s small feet, which, despite the layer of ingrained grime, were rapidly turning blue. ‘Why aren’t you wearing shoes?’

‘Shoes cost money what we don’t have, miss.’ Jim faced her with a defiant scowl. ‘I can take care of me brothers, miss. We ain’t going to the workhouse.’

‘Good heavens! I never even thought of the workhouse, Jim.’ Sally leaned across the barrow, lowering her voice. ‘Is that likely, Ned?’

‘Their ma ran off with another man a year ago, and their dad spends any money he earns on the railway in the pub. There’s not much hope for such as them.’

‘I ain’t deaf,’ Jim said angrily. ‘Give us the tea, mate, and we’ll be off.’

‘Can you spare some milk for the little one?’ Sally took some coins from her purse. ‘I can pay extra.’

Ned poured tea into two mugs, adding a generous amount of sugar, and filled another with milk for Benny. He shook his head, tut-tutting, making his disapproval clear.

Sally waited while the boys finished their food and drink. Her own problems seemed minor when she thought about their sad predicament. She still had most of the money that Kelly had given her for the cart, but her heart was touched by the boys’ plight. She came to a sudden decision.

‘Come with me, boys. I’m taking you to the second-hand shop round the corner. I can’t stand to see you barefoot and shivering in this weather.’

‘You might as well throw your money down the drain,’ Ned said grimly. ‘Ten to one, they’ll sell them before the day’s out.’

‘That’s a chance I’ll have to take.’ Sally grabbed Benny by the hand. ‘You’re not going barefoot one minute longer than necessary.’ She walked off, towing a protesting Benny, safe in the knowledge that his older brothers would follow. Sally was used to handling horses, and she reasoned that small boys needed to be treated much the same – love, kindness and a firm hand were what was needed.

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