Rose of Tralee (42 page)

Lily looked hard at Mr Dawlish. He was probably about her own age, with bristly hair cut very short, steady light-blue eyes and a square, determined chin. He was not tall, barely a couple of inches above her own modest height, but he was broad-shouldered and capable-looking, with that air of reliability about him which Lily had spotted at their first meeting, and valued. Jack, too, had had just that look.

‘I’m not bein’ cheeky, Mrs Ryder,’ Mr Dawlish said, plainly feeling rather uncomfortable beneath her scrutiny. ‘If you feel it wouldn’t be the thing ...’

‘No indeed, it’s very generous of you,’ Lily said quickly. ‘But haven’t you a friend you’d rather take? I know you’ve no relatives in the city, but ...’

‘I’d enjoy your company, Mrs Ryder,’ Mr Dawlish
said. ‘But if you’ve scruples against bein’ on too friendly terms wi’ your lodgers . . . well, perhaps you’d like to take Mrs Kibble, instead? I’m quite willing – I just felt it a waste not to use the tickets.’

‘I’ve no scruples of that nature,’ Lily said at once. ‘Truth to tell, I’d love to go to the theatre with you, Mr Dawlish. It’ll gi’ me a chance to wear me Christmas dress. What time do we leave?’

She had secretly expected to feel a little uncomfortable, walking along beside Mr Dawlish and then sitting next to him all afternoon, but she did not. He was good company, chatting to her both walking down to the tram stop and on the tram itself, buying her chocolates before the theatre and an ice-cream in the interval, and generally making her feel . . . well, valued, she supposed.

Making their way home again, she told him how much she had enjoyed the afternoon. ‘It made me feel young again,’ she said frankly, noticing how he shortened his natural long stride to suit her smaller steps. ‘When I go out wi’ Rosie or Agueda I always feel the responsibility for havin’ a good time rests on me. This afternoon, I just enjoyed meself thoroughly. Thank you, Mr Dawlish.’

‘It’s a pleasure, Mrs Ryder. I’m home for at least a week this time, incidentally, so I hope you’ll allow me to take you out again. What would you like to do next time? I’m sure Miss Ryder and Miss Mullins could manage to serve up an evenin’ meal if you’d agree to come out for the day wi’ me, an’ to have dinner out an’ all. Why, we could go to Southport if you’d like that.’

‘Ooh, I used to love to go shoppin’ in Southport,’ Lily said, her eyes growing misty at the remembered outings. Herself with her hand warm in Jack’s grasp,
the child in Jack’s arms, agog at the bright lights, the well-dressed crowds and the general air of holiday. ‘That would be a treat, Mr Dawlish.’

‘Then we’ll do it,’ Mr Dawlish said decidedly. He had tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow as they left the theatre and now he gave it a discreet squeeze. ‘I’m really lookin’ forward to this comin’ week, Mrs Ryder!’

‘It’s been a better Christmas than I ever thought we’d have again,’ Rose said on New Year’s Eve afternoon as she and Ella were putting on their coats in the small ladies cloakroom at Patchett & Ross, preparatory to heading for the street. ‘Mr Dawlish is ever so nice, he’s been takin’ me mam out an’ about, an’ that’s meant that me an’ Colm have been able to go out together most nights without me feelin’ I’m neglectin’ her. An’ Mona’s been goin’ around wi’ Tommy, they’ve been friendlier than they’ve ever been before, so it’s been a good time. Of course me mam misses me dad, but at least it wasn’t like the first year, when we felt guilty to smile, almost.’

It was a bitterly cold day, but so far, snow had not fallen, which meant that they had been arriving at work dry, at least. The two girls clattered out onto the pavement and turned right, lowering their heads protectively as the chill of evening met them. They were both on foot since Rose had obediently abandoned her beloved bicycle until the spring, after having a nasty fall as she coasted expertly – she thought – round black ice at the corner of Brow Side and Rupert Lane on her way home from work, so now she and Ella were heading for the nearest tram stop. They were warmly wrapped and very much looking forward to the evening ahead, for they were
both going to New Year parties with the men of their choice.

‘You shouldn’t feel guilty because you’re happier than you were last year or two years back; the pain of your dad’s death was very new, then, but time’s a great healer, so they say,’ Ella remarked, pushing her hands into the pocket of her coat and shivering as they turned the corner and met the wind off the river full on. ‘And you’re always sayin’ as ‘ow your dad liked you to have a good time, so don’t you go feelin’ guilty at havin’ fun, Rosie. So your mam’s off out tonight, eh? Wi’ Mr Dawlish, I tek it?’

‘Aye. They’re goin’ to a dinner dance at a big hotel on Hanover Street so Mam’s wearin’ a new dress an’ her gold necklace an’ so on,’ Rose confided. ‘We’re all out, tonight, in fact, even Mrs Kibble. She’s goin’ to the club she belongs to an’ takin’ an old flame.’ Rose giggled, turning her head sideways so that the wind did not whip her words from her mouth, and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial hiss she said, ‘He’s a Spaniard from where she lived when she were a girl, a retired seaman. So the house’ll be empty till after midnight.’

‘Aren’t you all gettin’ together to see the New Year in?’ Ella said. ‘I’m goin’ to a dance, but I’ll be home before midnight.’

‘No point, because Mam’s dance don’t finish until the early hours, an’ Mrs Kibble’s goin’ to welcome the New Year wi’ her fellow countrymen. But I expect Colm an’ meself’ll be back soon after we’ve all sung “Auld Lang Syne” an’ that, so’s we can have a quiet cuddle by the fire afore we goes off to bed,’ Rose admitted. ‘I dunno about Mona an’ Tommy, though. They’re nearly always late.’

‘Well, have a good time, then! See you next year,’
Ella yelled as they parted, each to catch their own tram. Rose laughed and shouted her own good wishes, then glanced up the road and broke into a trot. Her tram, already well filled, was approaching; she had best get a move on.

She managed to get on despite having reached the stop last, because everyone was in such a good mood. Two men hauled her aboard with great enthusiasm and she squeezed between them, hanging on to the nearest object, which happened to be the depository for used tickets, and craning her neck to see if there was anyone she knew on board.

She could see no one from her present perch, but when the tram reached her stop and she climbed down she saw Mona walking along the pavement, carrying something in a brown paper bag. She shouted and Mona stopped and waited for her to catch up. ‘Wotcher, Rosie,’ she said exuberantly. ‘Guess what’s in here!’ She flourished the bag under her cousin’s nose. ‘One for each of us!’

‘Not chocolates, I hope,’ Rose said devoutly. ‘I’m gettin’ fat – no, don’t you laugh, just think of all the eatin’ we’ve been doin’ lately! Go on then, what is it?’

‘Sprays of orchids,’ Mona said triumphantly, opening the bag in her right hand so that Rose could peep inside. ‘Old sourpuss said I could have ’em halfprice ’cos if they didn’t sell today they wouldn’t sell later. So I paid up for two an’ took four, an’ she never even noticed. She just bunched the others up in her bag, all crotchety and nasty because they were her idea, see? An’ she’s goin’ to give them to her old mam an’ pretend it’s a special New Year gift, like. There’s one person – no, two – what won’t be goin’ to a New Year party,’ she added rather unkindly.

‘Are you? Goin’ to a party, I mean,’ Rose asked. ‘I
know you’re goin’ out wi’ Tommy, but you didn’t say whether it was to a party or what,’ she added. ‘Colm an’ me’s off to the Daulby Hall. It’ll be good fun tonight, there’s bound to be balloons an’ spot prizes an’ all sorts.’

‘We’re goin’ round to some friends of his,’ Mona said. ‘I’ve not met them before, though, so I’ll wear me cream brocade an’ a green chiffon scarf, an’ the cream orchids wi’ the dark orange middles will look just right.’

‘What colours are mine?’ Rose asked, peering towards the bags. ‘I’m wearin’ me blue, as if you didn’t know,’ she added rather gloomily. ‘Sometimes I think I’m the only person in the world what has just the one dance dress.’

‘Well, you ain’t,’ Mona reminded her. ‘The gals at the Daulby mostly have one dance dress. Besides, you could have had another, only you went an’ saved the money for your bottom drawer.’

‘Yes . . . well, Colm an’ me’s gettin’ serious,’ Rose reminded her. ‘But we want to get a decent lot of stuff together before we name the day, an’ you can’t do that by spendin’ your hard-earned cash on dance dresses.’

‘No, I know,’ Mona said as they turned into St Domingo Vale. ‘Tell you what, why don’t you borrow me peach taffeta? It’ll suit you better’n it does me, because you’re dark an’ I’m fair, an’ fair hair needs a contrast. I’ve bought a midnight blue silk wi’ silver stars embroidered round the neckline, which I’d ha’ worn tonight if we’d been goin’ dancin’, because if I marry, it’ll be to someone who can afford to buy me all the sheets an’ towels I want,’ she finished on a note of defiance, Rose thought.

‘Could I really borrow your dress?’ Rose asked,
adding: ‘And as for marrying, you look all set to get serious wi’ Tommy to me.’

‘Tommy an’ me’s good friends,’ Mona said evasively. ‘But we both want more out o’ life than the bare necessities. As for the dress, ‘course you can borrow it. I’d lend you me satin slippers an’ all, only me feet are bigger’n yours, they’d fall off you the first time you lifted a foot clear o’ the dance floor.’

Giggling, the two of them made their way round the jigger, through the back gate, across the yard and into the kitchen, but they had barely shed their winter coats and hung them on the back of the door when the door flew open and Lily Ryder appeared. She was wearing a pretty pink dressing-gown and matching slippers, but her face was so pale that Rose said at once: ‘What’s the matter, Mam? What’s happened?’

‘Rosie, love, have you seen me gold necklace? The one made up of thick, twisted rings all set together, with a gold lily hanging from it? You know it, love – the family necklace.’

‘Oh, Mam, don’t say you’ve lost it,’ Rose said, horrified. She knew how her mother valued the heavy gold necklace, for it had been Jack’s grandmother’s and had been passed down the family, Lily sometimes said, for the best part of a hundred years and would, in the nature of things, one day belong to Rose herself – and in time to Rose’s daughter, if she had one.

‘It isn’t in me little jewellery case,’ Lily said, her voice breaking. ‘Oh, Rosie, when I went to look an’ it weren’t there, I couldn’t believe me eyes! Your dad was so proud of that chain, it had been in his family for as long as he could remember ... I promised him I’d always take the greatest care of it and now look what’s happened. It’s been stole an’ I only knew this
evenin’, when I went to see if it could do wi’ a polish before I wore it to the dinner dance.’

‘Stolen? Mam, who’d steal your lovely things?’ Rose said, feeling as if someone had tipped iced water down her back. ‘Not ... you don’t mean ...’

‘I don’t know who I mean, or who might steal it, I just know it’s gone and this time it couldn’t possibly be anything I’ve done, because I only wear it once in a blue moon, an’ I scarcely ever look in the little jewellery case, as you know. It’s tucked away safe in the back of me undies drawer and there it stays, and there it was when I got it out this evening, only it were empty. Oh Rose, Rose, what’ll I do?’

‘Ring the scuffers,’ Rose said quickly. ‘Mam, the necklace is valuable. If someone’s pinched it then they deserve to be caught ... and if someone’s sold it, perhaps it can be traced. Honest, Mam, you must go for the police.’

‘You must, Aunt Lily,’ Mona said. ‘Look, you’re in a state – an’ you’re not dressed either. Rosie, you go an’ telephone. I’ll go up wi’ your mam an’ take a look round the room, just in case ...’

‘There’s no in case about it,’ Lily snapped. ‘D’you think we’ve not searched high an’ low, Mona? Me an’ Agueda first, then we went an’ called Mr Dawlish, so he helped us, then when Tommy came in for an early tea he looked an’ all – an’ went up to the police station an’ telled them it had gone. Ever such a nice feller came down, but though he took details he was hopin’ it would turn up and then I wasn’t certain-sure it had gone. But I am now. It’s been stole.’

It ruined the evening, of course. First, everyone searched the house, from attic to cellar, then they sat over a cup of tea and a sandwich, discussing who
could have got into the house and how they could have known ...

‘There’s no way,’ Mr Dawlish said at length, voicing what they were all secretly thinking. ‘This was an inside job – had to be. Yet I can’t believe that any one of us could have done it – you’ve been so good to us all, Mrs Ryder! I suppose ... parrots don’t behave like jackdaws?’

‘I looked in his cage,’ Rose admitted, half ashamed. ‘But it weren’t there – well, I don’t think I really thought it would be. It was just that we were lookin’ everywhere, an’ though Gully’s a grand feller, he does pick things up sometimes . . . not that I’ve ever known him go for a necklace before. And anyway, how could he ’ave opened Mam’s drawer and the box an’ all.’

‘I don’t reckon he’d think much to it unless it were made of bacon rind,’ Mona said. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Aunt, I know I shouldn’t joke, but we’re gettin’ desperate when we try to blame the bleedin’ bird. Someone’s took it, that’s plain. If it had been in the house we’d ha’ found it by now. We’re just goin’ to have to leave it to the scuffers.’

‘A fat lot they care,’ Lily said tearfully. ‘They looked at me as if I were tellin’ fairy stories. Oh, they won’t even try to find it.’

‘We’ll keep on at ’em,’ Mr Dawlish promised. ‘Well, the evenin’ isn’t over yet, Mrs Ryder. How about us goin’ to the Daulby Hall wi’ the young ‘uns? It’s too late for the dinner dance, but no need to let the night go entirely to waste.’

‘Yes, Mam, do come,’ Rose said. ‘I’m sure the scuffers will do their best to get it back and I’m certain we’ve not left a pin unturned in the house. Why, tomorrow mornin’ they may come to the door askin’
you to identify it. And in the meantime, why not enjoy the rest of this old year?’

‘Rosie’s right, Mrs Ryder,’ Colm said. ‘Sure an’ ’tis a terrible t’ing to have happened, but even a gold necklace isn’t worth ruinin’ your life for. Come on, show us how you can out-dance every man jack of us!’