The Christmas Rose: The most heart-warming novel of 2018, from the Sunday Times bestseller

‘That’s a long time to be apart. Are you sure he hasn’t changed his mind?’

‘I’ve known Max since I was a child. He wouldn’t behave like that and he wrote beautiful letters.’

Cora tossed one boot on the floor and began to unlace the other. ‘You’ve got more faith in men than I have, kid. In my experience they’re rats, all of ’em.’

Rose moved the grubby stays from the chair and sat down as another wave of dizziness threatened to overcome her. ‘I thought he’d be at the Captain’s House.’

‘Well, he weren’t, and you’ll have to get used to the idea that he’s changed his mind.’ Cora picked up a pillow and threw it to Rose. ‘Here, get your head down, love. You’ll have to wait for morning to get some grub. I don’t keep food in me room because of rats – the four-legged kind.’ Cora chuckled and turned on to her side with a creaking of bed springs. ‘There’s a spare blanket under me bed,’ she added sleepily. ‘Night-night.’

Rose slid off the chair, lifted the trailing edge of the coverlet to look under the bed, and found herself staring into the beady eyes of a huge spider. She retreated hastily and curled up as best she could on the chair, resting her head on the pillow. Cramped, stiff and cold, she thought longingly of her old room in the school house, and the tantalising aroma of baking that floated up from the kitchen where Sadie was undoubted queen. She and her husband, Laurence, ran the school that Max’s stepfather had built for the local children. Rose was in awe of Raven Dorincourt, but both Max and Jimmy thought the world of him. Even so, she preferred gentle, unworldly Laurence, who believed strongly that girls ought to be as well educated as boys, and she had benefited from his teaching.

As she struggled with the cold and damp of an English winter and the discomfort of trying to sleep in an upright chair, Rose was beginning to doubt the wisdom of her actions. Had she been carried away on a romantic dream, fuelled by ardent love letters from Max? More to the point, what would she do now that she was on her own in London? The questions kept coming but there were no answers. Eventually, she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.

‘Wake up.’

Someone was shaking her and Rose opened her eyes to such an unfamiliar scene that she thought she was dreaming.

‘You was dead to the world,’ Cora said cheerfully. ‘Put your boots on, Rose. We’re going out to get some breakfast.’

Rose stretched her cramped limbs, wincing with pain as the feeling came back to her hands and feet in the form of pins and needles. ‘Where are we going?’

‘There’s a coffee stall on Tower Hill.’ Cora sat on the edge of her bed and pulled on her boots. ‘How are you off for readies?’

‘I’ve got some money,’ Rose said warily. ‘But it won’t last very long. I was counting on Max meeting me at the docks.’

‘You said your Max was related to the Colvilles. Is that true?’

‘His elder sister married into the family. I was at her wedding.’

‘So she knows you.’ Cora tied the second bootlace into a neat bow and stood up, reaching for her hat. ‘Then after we’ve had breakfast I think we should pay a call on this lady. The Colvilles are rolling in money.’

‘I don’t want to go begging,’ Rose protested. ‘I’m sure Max has a good reason for not coming to meet me. Anyway, I told you, Cora. I don’t know where Caroline lives.’

‘But I do.’ Cora thrust a hatpin into the feathery creation on her head. ‘Don’t argue, kid. Food first and then we’re going to Finsbury Circus. I know that’s where we’ll find them because one of their footmen was a client of mine, if you get my meaning?’ She winked and opened the door. ‘Come on, don’t loiter. I’m dying for a cup of coffee.’

Having eaten a ham roll and drunk a mug of hot, sweet coffee, Rose was beginning to feel more optimistic. The fog had lifted, leaving a sooty smell lingering in the air, and it was bitterly cold, but at least they could see where they were going and Cora set off at a brisk pace with Rose hurrying after her. The blisters on her heels had burst and were painful, but she was feeling more positive and the thought of receiving news of Max, or even finding him at home with his sister, made the walk to Finsbury Circus seem less arduous. But it was a nerve-racking experience as they had to dodge in and out of the traffic and push their way through crowds of pedestrians. Rose was uncomfortably aware of the withering looks that Cora received from respectable matrons, who had their maidservants in tow, and the knowing grins from the costermongers and road sweepers. Whistles, cat calls and scornful glances accompanied them, but Cora herself did not seem to notice and she marched onwards, head held high, and the black and red ostrich feathers on her hat fluttered in the breeze. She swung her hips and twirled her reticule as if performing on stage, to the obvious delight of small urchins, who mimicked her shamelessly. In daylight the colour of Cora’s hair was even more remarkable – almost white at the tips, darkening through every colour of yellow to bronze at the roots – but beneath all the paint and rouge Cora’s good nature shone out like a beacon, and Rose was well aware that she owed her new friend a huge debt of gratitude. What might have befallen her last evening without Cora’s timely intervention was anyone’s guess.

‘We’re here,’ Cora announced, coming to a sudden halt.

Rose just managed to avoid colliding with her as she stopped, staring up at the grand façade of what was undoubtedly a mansion. Sadie had often mentioned the old days, before Mr Manning’s premature death, when the family lived in Finsbury Circus, and she might have been describing this very house.

‘What do we do now?’ Rose whispered.

Cora marched up the steps and knocked on the door. ‘I ain’t going to the tradesmen’s entrance. The blooming servants are worse than their masters when it comes to looking down on people.’ She moved a step closer as the door was opened by a liveried footman.

‘Go away,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘This is a respectable household.’ He was about to shut them out when Cora put her foot over the threshold.

‘I dunno what makes you think I ain’t respectable,’ she said boldly, ‘but I’m as good as you, Jem Wilkins, and I don’t think your superior would take very kindly to one of his men frequenting a—’

Wilkins opened the door a fraction wider. ‘Shut up, Cora. Don’t let the world know my business.’

‘Then let us in. This young lady is a friend of Max Manning. She wants to see him.’

Wilkins rolled his eyes. ‘She can’t be much of a friend if she doesn’t know that Captain Manning’s regiment sailed for Alexandria nearly two months ago.’

‘No,’ Rose said faintly. ‘I don’t believe it. Max wouldn’t do that to me. He would have let me know.’

Cora turned on her in a fury. ‘You was miles out at sea, you silly cow. Why didn’t you think of that? You never said he was a soldier.’

‘Let me shut the door, Cora,’ Wilkins said urgently. ‘Go away and take her with you.’

‘No.’ Rose found her voice. ‘If Captain Manning is away I need to see Mrs Colville. She’ll remember me.’

Wilkins folded his arms across his chest. ‘Well, that’s going to be a bit difficult, miss. Because Mr and Mrs Colville are away from home.’

‘Stop smirking, you smug devil,’ Cora snapped. ‘I can still peach on you to the butler or the housekeeper. Either will do.’

‘The master and mistress left on a business trip to Australia six weeks ago,’ Wilkins said stiffly. ‘Now go away, please. I can’t tell you anything else.’

‘Just a minute,’ Rose cried anxiously. ‘Do you know how long Captain Manning will be away?’

Wilkins gave her a pitying look. ‘According to the newspapers the war in Egypt is over, but I doubt if the generals themselves know when the troops will be sent home. Sorry, miss, but there it is.’ He gave Cora a push that almost overbalanced her and slammed the door.

Rose sank down on the top step. ‘I can’t believe this is happening to me,’ she murmured, shaking her head.

‘A pretty pickle you got yourself into, kid.’ Cora stared down at her, frowning. ‘Sitting there, feeling sorry for yourself, ain’t going to help either.’

‘I need to think,’ Rose said slowly. ‘I’m sure that Max would have made arrangements for me to be provided for until he returns.’

‘If he comes back at all.’ Cora threw up her hands. ‘Don’t look at me like that, young ’un. He went to fight in a war. If the bullets don’t get him he might have fallen sick from them foreign diseases. You got to face facts, love.’

‘Then I’ll travel to Egypt so that I can be near him.’

‘Oh, really! You said you got no money, and it’s a long way to walk.’

Rose stood up, bracing her shoulders. ‘I’ll get work and I’ll find a way.’

‘Well, I can’t leave you here, but I got to earn a living, too. You’d best come home with me.’ Cora gave her a calculating look. ‘Regan would take you on. He’s always looking for fresh faces and young bodies, especially virgins.’

Rose felt the colour flood her cheeks and she turned away. ‘I’m not that sort …’ She broke off, too embarrassed to finish the sentence. Cora had been kind to her, and how she supported herself was nobody’s business but her own.

‘It’s all right, love. I’m used to having my profession thrown in my face. It bounces off like rain on a pigeon’s feathers.’ Cora hitched her shawl around her shoulders as she negotiated the steps. ‘Come on if you’re coming. You can stay with me for another night or two, but you got to make yourself scarce when my gents come to call. D’you understand?’

Rose followed more slowly. ‘Thank you, Cora. I won’t impose on you any longer than necessary. I’ll look for work of some sort and a place to live.’

‘You ain’t going home then?’

‘I was happy in Bendigo, and Sadie and Laurence were kind to me, but they aren’t family. I have no ties there now.’ Rose fell into step beside Cora.