The blessed child, p.37
The Blessed Child, page 37
As Nessie’s mouth gaped she turned her attention back to Joseph and the strange conversation was at an end.
The week passed all too quickly for Nessie and when they finally stood on the platform to wave Jewel away on the train, her eyes were full of tears.
‘Come again soon, it’s been so lovely to have you,’ she told her mother-in-law as they hugged.
‘It might be a long time before I can make such a long journey again,’ Jewel told her sadly. ‘Pierre is many years older than me and not in the best of health so I do not like to leave him for too long. But thank you for being so kind to my son. You have turned his business and his life around and one day you will be rewarded.’
There was no more time for chat then, for the guard was ushering everyone aboard and after one last kiss the woman climbed into the carriage and pulled the window down.
‘Take care of my son, Nessie,’ she called as the train chugged into life and drew away and they all waved until it was just a spot in the distance.
‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ Andre said, smiling.
‘I loved having her stay,’ she answered truthfully. ‘But why didn’t you tell me she used to be a gypsy?’
‘I suppose I never think about it.’ He grinned. ‘And what difference does it make? If two people love each other it shouldn’t matter what walk of life they come from.’
Just for a second a picture of Oliver flashed in front of her eyes. If only it were so, she thought, but then she plastered on a smile and took her husband’s arm. She had made her choice and she would stand by it.
Chapter Fifty-One
January 1866
‘So, did you have a good Christmas and New Year, pet?’ Connie Dorsey asked as she and Nessie sat on the hearthrug in front of the fire in her drawing room. ‘And how did you get on with your mother-in-law?’
‘In answer to your first question we had a very nice Christmas, thank you. Maria and Reuben, and Molly and Charlie and their children all came for dinner. I cooked a goose with all the trimmings and it was wonderful to see everyone enjoying themselves, especially the children. We bought each of them a little gift that I put beneath the Christmas tree and they were so thrilled with them. Did I tell you Maria was having a baby, by the way? And as for the second question, my mother-in-law was lovely! I don’t mind admitting I was rather worried about how we’d get on but I was sorry to see her go.’
George, who was five months old now and as fat as butter, was propped up by cushions and happily throwing about some brightly painted wooden bricks. Nessie was shocked at how much he seemed to have grown in just three weeks. Normally she tried to visit every week but what with the Christmas holidays, her mother-in-law’s visit and one thing and another this was the first chance she’d had since before Christmas.
The awkwardness between herself and Connie had disappeared completely and now they got on well. So much so, in fact, that Connie actually looked forward to her visits. Nessie had also been heartened to hear about how George’s grandfather had softened towards him, despite not initially wanting the baby there. George now had him wrapped around his little finger and it was more than obvious that Connie, in fact the whole household, doted on him. He only had to whimper and someone would rush forward to soothe him and she was forced to accept that this was perhaps the best place for him to be brought up after all. She could never have devoted all the time that Connie did to him.
Connie had ordered coffee for them so when the door opened Nessie glanced up, expecting to see the maid, and when she saw Oliver standing there with a tray in his hands she felt the colour drain from her face.
‘I thought I’d play maid and make myself useful,’ he said, his eyes tight on Nessie and then an awkward silence settled on the room, save for baby George’s gurgles of glee as he tried to eat one of his wooden bricks.
Picking up on the tension immediately, Connie told him, ‘Well, come and put the tray down then! It’ll be stone cold if you stand there for much longer.’ The look that she had seen pass between Oliver and Nessie when they had first set eyes on each other only confirmed her suspicions. Her son loved Nessie and judging by the young woman’s reaction to his appearance, his love was returned. But why then, she wondered, had she married Mr Chevalier? Perhaps that was the reason Oliver had suddenly decided he wanted to go and work in London? It was all fitting together now and she thought it was a crying shame.
‘Did I mention that Oliver was home for a few days?’ she asked casually to break the uncomfortable silence.
‘No, you didn’t. How are you, Oliver?’ Nessie asked politely, desperately trying to disguise her surprise and sheer joy at seeing him again.
‘Very well, and yourself?’
‘I’m well … How is your practice in London going?’
He could have told her that he hated it there, had only gone because he couldn’t stand to see her married to another man. He missed the small market town he had been brought up in, and the soup kitchen, but most of all he missed her. Instead he merely said, ‘Oh, it’s going well, thank you.’
‘Good.’
‘Right, I’m just going to go and check with Cook how lunch is coming along,’ Connie said. ‘You will join us, won’t you, Nessie?’
‘Er, thank you but I should be getting back. We have a funeral scheduled for this afternoon,’ Nessie replied quickly.
‘Oh, what a shame. But never mind, perhaps next time.’ Connie left and Nessie tried to focus on George, painfully aware that Oliver’s eyes were on her.
‘And how is Joseph?’ he asked after a time. ‘And Andre, of course.’
Since Oliver had left, Andre had arranged for the new doctor to visit Joseph each week.
‘Andre is well but Joseph’ – she hesitated – ‘is not doing so well these last few weeks. The doctor who attends him now thinks that perhaps the tumour is growing again.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear it,’ Oliver answered, although secretly he was surprised that the little chap had lasted as long as he had. He was quite sure that it was all thanks to her loving care. They talked of the soup kitchen then and the other charitable works she was involved with, pointedly avoiding anything personal, and they were both relieved when Connie returned.
Nessie left soon after, glad to make her escape, and as she made her way home her heart felt like lead. Seeing Oliver again had awakened all the feelings she had tried to bury but by the time she got home she managed to plaster a smile to her face and she kissed Andre’s cheek affectionately.
‘How was he?’ He had always encouraged her to visit George, which was one of the kind things she loved about him. There were so many things, but their marriage was a façade and sometimes she grieved for the children she would never have. Even so, what was done was done and she was determined to make the best of it.
The sound of Joseph whimpering in the next room woke Nessie early one morning in mid-February.
Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed she dragged her dressing robe on and tiptoed from the room, hoping not to disturb Andre, but he was already awake and he arrived in Joseph’s room looking concerned shortly after she did.
‘Should I send for the doctor?’ he asked worriedly as Nessie bent over the child.
‘Yes … I think so.’ Nessie was trying hard not to panic. ‘He’s very hot and I think he’s in pain.’
Andre rushed away to throw his clothes on and was clattering down the stairs in seconds. Charlie hadn’t yet arrived so he would go for the doctor himself.
Luckily old Dr Peek was just sitting down to his breakfast when Andre arrived and he hurried back with him, then shooed both Nessie and Andre from the room while he examined the child. When he joined them on the narrow landing shortly after his face was grave.
‘I fear you should prepare yourselves for the worst,’ he told them solemnly and Nessie’s fist flew to her mouth. ‘I recommend you up his dose of laudanum to ease the pain, there is little more we can do. I shall call in again after I have finished my rounds.’
She nodded numbly. She had always known that this would happen one day and had thought she had prepared herself for it but now that the time had come the thought of losing the dear child was unbearable.
The doctor called twice more that day and Nessie stayed close to Joseph’s side, talking soothingly to him, holding his hand and mopping his fevered brow but as evening closed in he didn’t even seem to be aware that she was there and she knew he was slipping away.
‘You go to bed and get your rest,’ she urged Andre. ‘There is no point in us both sitting up.’
Reuben had been there for most of the evening too, anxious about the little boy, but she had sent him home to Maria, insisting that she could manage.
Andre reluctantly did as he was told, sensing that she wanted some time alone with Joseph but he tossed and turned for most of the night, finding it hard to sleep.
The first fingers of dawn were painting the sky with a palette of purples and pinks when Joseph suddenly opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Nessie. For the first time in a long while he appeared to be focusing on her.
‘Hello, sweetheart,’ she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. ‘Would you like a little drink?’
He gave her the sweetest smile. A smile that would live in her heart forever and she turned to lift the glass of water she had placed on the small table at the side of the bed. But when she turned back she saw that his eyes were closed and she knew that he had slipped away.
‘No … No … No … Oh, Joseph!’ Tears ran down her cheeks as she stared at him. She felt as if her heart was breaking in two but then she thought of what she had told Molly when she lost her child. He is up there waiting for you beyond the open door. Hopefully Joseph would be there waiting too now, whole and able to do all the things that little boys his age should be able to do. Even so, her sense of loss was overpowering and Andre found her there clinging to his tiny body and sobbing broken-heartedly a short time later.
‘I am so sorry.’ He saw at a glance that Joseph was gone and he too was deeply upset. He dealt with dead bodies almost every day of his life, it was his job, but it was very different when one of those bodies was someone he cared about personally. ‘He shall have the best funeral this town has ever seen,’ he promised his grieving wife, but his words gave her little joy. Some time ago she had agreed to marry him to give Marcie, her new baby, and Joseph a secure home and now they were all gone. From now on it would be just her and Andre.
‘W-would you get word to Reuben about what has happened please?’ she asked tremulously. ‘He will want to come to say his goodbyes.’
‘Of course.’
True to his word, a few days later Joseph was laid to rest in a small white coffin that Andre had ordered especially from London. The glass-sided hearse that took him to the church was full of pure white lilies and no expense was spared. But nothing could ease Nessie’s pain and as the tiny coffin was lowered into the ground she felt as if a part of her heart was being buried with him.
Chapter Fifty-Two
November 1869
‘Happy anniversary, ma cherie. I cannot believe that we have been married for four years.’ As Andre took a small velvet box from his pocket and made to rise from his chair to give it to her, she pressed him back into the seat.
‘Oh, thank you, Andre. But don’t get up, please.’
She took the box from him and when she sprang the lid she found a glittering diamond brooch in the shape of a leaf twinkling up at her.
‘Oh, darling, it’s beautiful,’ she gasped. She had many such trinkets now, although she didn’t often wear them, for Andre spoiled her shamelessly. ‘So that’s where you got Charlie to take you in such secrecy the other day,’ she scolded but there was a twinkle in her eye.
He shrugged. ‘You deserve it. I only wish I could take you out somewhere nice. It is so boring having to sit here,’ he grumbled.
‘Well, boring or not, the doctor said you were to have complete rest and I shall see that you do,’ she told him firmly as she tucked the rug across his knees; since he’d become ill, Andre tended to feel the cold more keenly. As her hand brushed his leg she had to stifle a little cry of distress as she felt his bones. He had lost so much weight that his clothes hung from his frame no matter how many tasty tit-bits she tempted him with. But it was his face that had changed the most. It was gaunt and his lips always had a frightening blue tinge to them.
The doctor called in weekly, just as he once had for Joseph, but there was little he could do apart from advise Andre to rest. His heart condition had worsened dramatically over the last few months, to the point that he could no longer actively take a part in the business. Thankfully that wasn’t a problem as Charlie and Reuben had everything running like clockwork. To cope with their rising trade, they now also owned another parlour in the borough of Weddington which was run by Dick Villiers, a friend of Charlie’s from the courtyards who was very dependable and capable. And so now Nessie found herself frequently running between the two businesses and dealing with the financial side of things and with that and her charitable works, she barely had a minute to herself. Not that she ever complained. She liked to be busy.
The year before she had purchased a run-down house just outside of town from Seth Grimshaw of all people, and after having it renovated, she had employed a teacher and set up her own little free school. When it had first opened she had feared that no one would ever use it but as word had spread the children had begun to attend and now it was full to capacity. Andre was more than happy to fund it, with two businesses doing well he could afford to and he knew how much pleasure it gave his wife.
He watched her now as she flitted across to the highly polished mahogany sideboard that took up one wall of their drawing room to return with a parcel for him.
‘And this is my anniversary present to you,’ she told him, watching with pleasure as he carefully unwrapped it. It was a beautiful book of poems with a fine-tooled leather cover. He sighed with pleasure as he flipped through the pages.
‘It is beautiful,’ he breathed, then sighed regretfully. ‘Once I dreamed of travelling the world but that is not going to happen now, is it?’
She forced a smile. ‘How do you know that? I’m hoping your health will improve when the weather gets warmer. We could perhaps take a little holiday then? Somewhere in this country for now. Reuben and Dick can manage without us for a few days.’
‘We shall see,’ he replied but deep down he feared it would never happen. He was gasping for breath if he took more than a few steps now, although he always tried to put on a brave face for Nessie. He knew how much she worried about him.
‘Anyway, I must be off to the shop at Weddington,’ she told him as she patted her hair into place in the mirror above the fireplace. ‘I promised Dick I would prepare some bills for him today but if you need anything while I’m gone just shout. Molly will be about and I shouldn’t be too long. You sit and relax and have a read of your book while I’m gone.’
Long after she had left, he sat staring thoughtfully at the door. She had been a good wife to him and he had never regretted marrying her for a minute, although he still missed Jean-Paul, who had been the love of his life. His life might have been very different had Jean-Paul lived but it hadn’t been meant to be. Strangely, the thought of dying didn’t frighten him now, for he hoped that when his time came they would be reunited. With a sigh he turned his attention to the book to while away the hours.
‘This came for you along wi’ all the other letters,’ Molly informed Nessie later that morning when she arrived back from Weddington. ‘It’s got a London postmark. Who do yer reckon it could be from?’
Nessie took it from her, her heart pounding. Oliver and Marcie were both in London but Nessie was almost afraid to hope that it might be from either of them. She ripped open the envelope and her heart leapt.
‘It’s from Marcie,’ she cried. She had longed for her sister to write to her for such a long while that she couldn’t wait to read it.
She gave a cry of delight as soon as she saw the signature at the bottom. Although she noticed that there was no return address even so she was thrilled to hear from her and her eyes began to greedily scan the page as she read aloud:
Dear Nessie,
I hope this letter finds you well, as I am. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to write but I’ve been very busy. I’m writing now to tell you that I’m about to be married and also about what has happened to me since I came to London.
I’m sorry for the way I ran away leaving you to care for George and Joseph, I hope you’ll forgive me but I needed to get away from everything that had happened. I hope you’ll understand. It was very hard when I first arrived here, as within hours of arriving I was robbed – every single penny of the hundred pounds was stolen and I didn’t even have enough money to catch the train home. Luckily a woman who worked at a theatre took pity on me when she saw me crying and walking the streets and gave me a home. I then joined the dancers at the theatre where she worked and eventually I became a singer in the music halls.
Last year I met my future husband. I don’t know that you’d approve of him. He’s much older than me and a widower but he treats me like a queen and I know he’ll look after me. He’s very rich so I’ll never have to worry about earning a living again and once I move into his lovely town house I’ll have servants to wait on me. He paid for me to have elocution lessons and for a teacher to help me improve my reading and writing as I’m sure you will have noticed. It sounds selfish, I know, but you more than anyone know that I’ve always been that way inclined and I am fond of him in my own way. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I am all right. Perhaps one day we will meet again but until then know that I think of you all often. Give my love to Reuben and Maria,
