Page 37 of The Laudanum Ladies' Society

‘You will pay Miss Rosewood’s friend for the jam, of course,’ Mr Walters said, sternly.

‘Oh no, my friend is happy to give it away. She makes so much,’ Jenny assured him, though he still looked unhappy. She followed Gwen into the kitchen.

‘He has a notion that we should not accept anything without being able to pay for it,’ Gwen said. She crossed her arms and looked worried. ‘Thank goodness we’ll have saved enough to pay for his operation, but explaining where the money has come from will be tricky.’

‘Did you buy some new boots?’ Jenny asked. She’d spent half her own profit on a box of marzipan fruits that were nestled in her basket in preparation for her next errand.

‘I did.’ Gwen pulled her skirt back to reveal a pair of brown boots that weren’t new, but which were still in much better condition than her previous pair.

‘Now,’ she said, smiling. ‘Tell me about your young man. How did you meet each other?’

Jenny’s cheeks began to glow. She’d blurted out Miriam’s existence but couldn’t admit to her sex. ‘My friend is an artist. I was out walking, and we started talking to each other, and then we got to know each other a little more. I do believe that I am in love for the first time in my life. Every moment, I wish we could be together. And one day we might.’

‘And your uncle approves?’

‘My uncle is unaware,’ Jenny said carefully. ‘I’m sure that if I do decide to leave his household, his happiness for me willbe mitigated by his concern for his change in circumstances. So until I am certain, I’m not saying anything.’

Gwen refilled her teacup and gave Jenny an understanding look. ‘Very wise.’

She offered the pot to Jenny, who declined and finished her cup.

‘I have other errands to run,’ she said, ‘so I’ll take my leave.’

The other thing Jenny had chosen to spend some of her money on, was a cab fare to the underground railway station; from there she could walk to the crescent where Miriam lived in about a quarter of an hour.

She was admitted to the boarding house by the same maid as previously. The pert young girl with her smart uniform and fresh complexion struck her as a stark contrast to the waif who had brought the package from Augusta.

She made her way up the stairs and tapped a rhythm on the door.

‘Oh, hello, were you just passing again?’ Miriam greeted Jenny with a kiss on the cheek, taking her by the hand to pull her inside. She was wearing a pale blue blouse with yellow flowers and a blue skirt, and had her hair tied back beneath a scarf.

‘I’m spring-cleaning this time, even though spring seems determined to remain absent.’

She lifted a feather duster in proof of her claim.

‘I come bearing marzipan sweets, which will help pass the time,’ Jenny said.

‘How kind of you.’ Miriam opened the box and selected a red strawberry-shaped sweet. She ate it in one and gave a little moan of delight. ‘Be even kinder and help me with the cleaning. Ifyou’re ever planning to live alone, then you had better learn how to do it.’

‘Doesn’t the maid do it?’ Jenny asked.

‘Sally? Yes, but there’s a lot of work for her to do on her own, and Mrs Godolphin is too measly to pay a daily, so we all keep our rooms as tidy as we can. Bless her. She’s a sweet girl and very good-natured. It would be very easy to take advantage of her.’

Jenny resolved to give the maid another tip on the way out. ‘Is she the daughter of the house or just an employee?

‘She’s Mrs Godolphin’s cousin’s daughter. She’s from Newcastle and is doing her best to make her way in the world. She has a lovely singing voice, too, but so far she hasn’t made it onto the stage. You’d best take your coat off if you are going to help,’ Miriam instructed.

Jenny hung it on the coat-stand beside Miriam’s, then put her bonnet on Miriam’s dressing table, where at least it would not get paint on it. Miriam clicked her teeth and rummaged in a drawer, producing a mauve silk scarf like the one she was wearing. She tied it around Jenny’s hair in the same manner.

‘Now we look like a pair of charwomen.’ She grinned and tucked a couple of stray hairs behind Jenny’s ear, folding them into the scarf. Her fingertips brushed Jenny’s earlobe and the resulting prickle was like the charge that one got when stroking a cat’s fur. Miriam’s wrists smelled of some sweet perfume that Jenny didn’t recognise but which made her nose twitch. She inhaled, not as discreetly as she had intended, because Miriam gave her a coy look as she continued removing the hairpins.

‘Lily of the valley.’

‘Very nice,’ Jenny said.

Jenny had never thought cleaning could be enjoyable but while they swept and dusted, they ate the marzipan fruits and sang music-hall songs. Jenny even tried some of the Turkishcoffee, which proved to be just as unpleasant as she had suspected.

‘Now,’ Miriam said, when she announced they had done more than enough, ‘I want to paint you. Not just a sketch, but a proper portrait. I thought something in the classical style, because that seems to be very fashionable at the moment.’