The Button Box. Dilly Court

       Chapter Four

      The shop was in darkness but a flicker of light be-neath the parlour door was a welcome sight. Clara unlocked the door and Nathaniel staggered in with the heavy bags, which he dumped on the floor with a sigh of relief.

      ‘I don’t know how you managed to carry these any distance.’

      The parlour door opened and Jane peered anxiously into the dark shop. ‘Is that you, Clara?

      ‘Yes, and I met Nathaniel in the street. He was kind enough to help me with the last of our bags.’

      ‘Nathaniel! How lovely to see you again,’ Jane cried excitedly. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? I’ve had the kettle on the hob for an hour or more, and I found some tea in one of the cupboards in the scullery.’

      ‘That would be nice,’ Clara said hastily. She laid a restraining hand on Nathaniel’s arm as he made to follow her sister into the back room. ‘Tell me why I should trust you not to make trouble for us in the future. I really need to know.’

      ‘I am not a poor musician. Well, that’s not quite true. I am poor at the moment, but in a few months’ time, when I reach the age of twenty-five, I’ll come into the fortune left to me by my late father. He was of the opinion that if I was young when I inherited the money he had worked so hard to make I would run riot and squander it. So you see, Clara, you have no need to worry. Now, shall we join your sister for a cup of tea?’

      ‘In a minute,’ Clara said warily. ‘If what you say is true, your family must have property somewhere. Why then do you live in London, playing for pennies on street corners?’

      ‘You’re right. There is a town house and a country estate, but one of the conditions of my father’s will was that should I ignore his wishes and follow my dream to become a serious musician and composer, I had to leave home. I have to prove that I can earn my living and to survive without any financial help.’

      ‘That seems extremely hard,’ Clara said, frowning.

      ‘My uncle is executor of Father’s will, and he sees to it that I don’t put a foot over the threshold until I’m of age. I have a suspicion that he hopes I might die of some terrible disease or starve on the streets in the meantime, or should I give up and prove myself a failure, I forfeit my claim and he gets everything. You see, my father was of a whimsical turn of mind.’

      ‘I wouldn’t call it that,’ Clara said hotly. ‘He sounds a very spiteful man.’

      ‘You know all there is to know about me now, Clara. You can trust me.’

      ‘Yes, but it’s a strange state of affairs.’

      ‘Not in my family. If you knew the rest of the Silvers you wouldn’t be surprised.’

      ‘And yet Miss Silver lived very frugally and never took a day off work,’ Clara said, frowning. ‘That does seem odd when her brother was so well-off.’

      ‘I didn’t know, or I would have tried to help her.’ Nathanial pushed a stray lock of hair back from his forehead. ‘I really would.’

      Jane emerged from the parlour, leaning heavily on one crutch. ‘Are you going to stay there chatting all evening?’ Her eyes widened and her lips formed a circle of surprise. ‘Who is that outside? I saw a shadow in the glass.’

      Clara had barely turned to look when the person outside in the street hammered on the door. ‘Clara, open up. I can see you.’ Betsy’s angry voice made Clara hurry to let her in.

      ‘Why was I locked out? I need a key of my own, Clara.’ Betsy came to a halt, staring at Nathaniel. ‘Who is this?’

      ‘Please come through to the parlour,’ Jane said plaintively. ‘You’re letting in the cold air, and the room has only just warmed up.’

      Betsy eyed the cases. ‘Where are my things? You haven’t left them in Wych Street, have you, Clara? Miss Lavelle passed on your message – or part of it, anyway. She just said I was to come straight here after work.’

      Clara turned to Betsy with a sigh. ‘If you would just give someone else a chance to speak, I’d introduce you to Nathaniel Silver, Miss Silver’s nephew.’

      Nathaniel bowed over Betsy’s hand. ‘How do you do, Miss Betsy?’

      Betsy smiled coyly. ‘How do you do, sir?’

      ‘As to your things,’ Clara continued, ‘Jane and I packed everything we could and I’ve been going to and fro all day bringing whatever I could carry, so I don’t want to hear any grumbling from you, Betsy. If it hadn’t been for Nathaniel, I might still be clutching a lamppost in Wych Street after someone almost knocked me flying.’

      Betsy cast a sideways glance at Nathaniel. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve had a busy day and I wanted to go home to my own bed.’

      ‘This is home for the present.’ Clara ushered her sister into the parlour. ‘I saw Pa off on the train this morning, so he should be with his cousin by now, and we’ll be safe here unless the Bragg gang discover our whereabouts.’

      Nathaniel followed them into the small room. ‘I’ve heard of them. They’re a bad lot.’

      ‘You mustn’t worry,’ Jane said confidently. ‘Clara’s gentleman friend, Luke, is with the Skinners. He had a fight with Bert Bragg and I think Luke’s nose was broken, but I’m sure that Bert came off the worst.’

      ‘Thank you, Jane.’ Clara sent her a warning look. ‘The kettle is boiling, so why don’t you make the tea? I’m sure Nathaniel would like something hot to drink before he braves the cold.’

      Betsy tossed her bonnet onto the sofa and shed her mantle with a dramatic flourish. ‘I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day because Miss Lavelle made us work until the wretched hat was finished.’

      ‘We’re all hungry, Betsy.’ Jane struggled to lift the kettle off the trivet. ‘I filled it too full.’

      ‘Allow me.’ Nathaniel moved to her side, retrieved the kettle and placed it safely on the hearth. ‘I must admit to being famished too. There’s a coffee stall not far from here. The fellow sells hot pies, and baked potatoes, as well as boiled eggs and ham sandwiches. If you all agree I’ll go out now and purchase our supper.’

      ‘Oh, yes, please,’ Jane said eagerly. ‘I’d like a pie and an egg, if it’s not too much to ask.’

      ‘I’d like a baked potato and a ham sandwich.’ Betsy settled herself on the chair nearest the fire. ‘Thank you, Nathaniel. You are a true gentleman.’

      Clara reached for her reticule, acutely aware that their funds were running low. ‘I’ll give you the money, Nathaniel. It is very kind of you to offer to go out on such a night. I should come with you to help carry everything.’

      ‘There’s no need for you to brave the weather yet again, Clara.’ Nathaniel made a move towards the door. ‘You haven’t said what you would like.’

      ‘A