Chapter 16:
From Workhouse
to Townhouse
Robert wearily
opened his bedroom door to find Gerard carefully curling freshly starched
collars into the velvet-lined leather box in which they waited to be worn.
“Sir,” Gerard
smiled, tucking the box into a drawer. “You’ll
pardon me sayin’ it, but you look awful tired.”
“I am,” Robert
nodded.
“How’s the
Honorable Mrs. Potts, then?” Gerard asked.
“Resting
comfortably.” Robert sighed.
“Is she terrible
ill, Sir?”
“No. She’s terribly full.” Robert chuckled. “If either of us had eaten as much as she has
this evening, we, too, would have stomach pains.”
Gerard
smiled. “Well, Sir, better that than if
she were really sick.”
“True.” Robert nodded, loosening his cravat. “What goes on here?”
“Well, Sir,
Charles has already gotten His Grace undressed and left him in his room with
his puppet and Dog Toby.”
“Good. And Colin?”
“Master Colin is
dreamin’ of toy boats and summer days.”
“So, all is right
in our little world, then.” Robert
sighed contentedly, sitting on the bed so that Gerard could help him off with
his boots.
“Yes, Sir.” Gerard nodded, kneeling to undo his master’s
boots.
“And, what’s the
atmosphere downstairs?”
“Quite jolly,
Sir.” Gerard answered.
“No further
discussion of Hortence?”
“No, Sir.”
Gerard shook his head. “Mrs. Pepper told us not to speak her name less she pop
back up like a bad penny.”
“Wise thinking.”
“It’s better
without her, Sir.” Gerard
continued.
“I take it that
she was not well-liked?”
“Oh, no, Sir.” Gerard replied firmly, rising up to place
Robert’s boots by the side of the door.
He would take them downstairs later to polish them. “She weren’t too kind, that one. Always so sour and complainin’. It’s easier without her.”
“Well, we’ll
replace her in the next few days. I’d
hate to think that Violet and Gamilla would have to endure an added burden.”
“We’ll make do.” Gerard answered pleasantly.
“So, may I ask,
what do you all do in the evenings?”
“Downstairs,
Sir?”
“Yes.”
“Evenings are
awful nice, Sir. More so tonight what
with…her…gone. Once we got you and His Grace
all settled in, we sit by the fire. The
girls work on their mending and Charles and me, well, we sometimes do the boots
or other things. Mrs. Pepper, she’s ever
so nice, Sir, she makes a pot of chocolate and puts a plate of butter biscuits
on the table. Now that Miss Barrett’s
here, she joins us sometimes. We talk ‘bout
where we been. Gamilla tells us about
America and Miss Barrett tells us about the time she spent in Scotland when she
was small. But, best of all, Mr.
Speaight will read to us, Sir. And, we
listen. I like it.”
“What does he
read to you?”
“Sometimes from
the News, Sir. That’s fine, it is. But, I like it best when he reads us
stories. Tonight he’s startin’ a new
one. Mr. Dickens’ ‘The Adventures of
Oliver Twist.’ It’s about a poor, orphan
boy from the workhouse, Sir.”
“I’ve read the
novelization.” Robert smiled. “I think
you’ll enjoy it.”
“I will.” Gerard responded. “Though it may make me a little sad.”
“Oh?”
“See, I were in
the workhouse, Sir.”
“Were you?” Robert studied the man. He wasn't bad-looking, just a bit rough. In fact, at certain angles, he was rather handsome--broad-shouldered with sandy-blond hair, his face looked older than its almost thirty years, a leathery and tanned visage from which two light blue eyes twinkled.
“I didn’t know that. We don’t know much about your past, Gerard.”
“Ain’t no use in
you knowin’, Sir. I’ve had some
troubles. But, it’s all over now.”
“I’m glad of
that.”
“It’s thanks to
you, Sir. You and His Grace. If you’d not taken a chance on me, I’d…” He shook his head. “It don’t matter.”
“We’re happy
that you’re part of our household.”
“And, I’m happy
to be in it, Sir.” Gerard nodded. “See, I were an orphan. Me sis and me. Me mum, she died when I was born. And, our pa—he
weren’t no good. We got sent to the
workhouse. I never saw me sis again
after that. Told she died, Sir.”
“I’m sorry.” Robert shook his head.
“She were an
angel on this earth, Sir, and now she’s an angel in heaven. When I got out of the workhouse, Sir, I found
the drink, and well…that’s when me troubles started and I found myself in bad
company…like when you and His Grace found me.
But, I ain’t touched a drop of the stuff since and I don’t aim to do so
again.”
“Good for you.” Robert smiled as Gerard helped him out of his
coat.
“I never
thought, Sir, that I’d live in a house like this with all these fine folk and
two fine masters like you and His Grace.
When I were a boy, I dreamed of bein’ in service in a fine house. Me mum would be so proud, she would.”
“I’m sure she
would.” Robert nodded. “Gerard,” he began, “if it helps you to know
it—I never dreamed I’d live on Belgrave Square either. When I was a boy in Wimbledon, my mother was
very ill. My brother, Cecil, and I
almost ended up in the workhouse, too.”
“Is that so?” Gerard’s eyes widened. “Was your pa bad, too?”
“No.” Robert shook his head. “He wasn’t bad. He was just…too generous, or perhaps just careless. He spent his money freely, not worried about
where he’d get more. He mounted considerable debt. Consequently, he went to prison for it.”
“Oh, sir.”
“But, Cecil and
I—we managed to work. Cecil more so than
I. He worked so that I could take care
of our mother and so that I could study.
Thanks to him, I was able to get an education. Actually, we both were.”
“And, that’s how
you was able to be a doctor, then?”
“Yes.”
“And, look at
you now—a fine gentleman in a grand house.
Everyone in Belgravia knows that you’re the best doctor here. Startin’ to, anyway.”
“Thank you for
that, Gerard.”
“And, you made a
fine, smart match for yourself, too.” Gerard
smiled. “If you’ll pardon me sayin’ so.”
“I don’t mind.” Robert nodded. “I know I did. I appreciate that you see it. Some would think that I hadn’t.”
“Why? Cuz His Grace is a fella? That don’t matter. Does it, Sir? Long as you’re happy.”
“And, I am.”
“That’s why I
got so angry when Hortence said those unkind things ‘bout you.” Gerard continued. He paused and frowned. “Let’s not tell Mrs. Pepper I said her name.”
“I won’t.” Robert smiled. “We’ll never mention her again.”
“Sure, we’re
through with her.” Gerard grinned,
handing Robert’s nightshirt to him.
“I hope so.” Robert mumbled.
“Will you be
wantin’ anything else, Sir? I can bring
up a tray for ya.” Gerard asked.
“No. I think that will be all for tonight. You go downstairs now. I don’t want to keep you from Oliver Twist.”
“Thank you, Sir.” Gerard grinned. “Good night.”
“Good night,
Gerard,”
Wrapping his
dressing gown around himself, Robert waited for a few moments after Gerard
departed and, then, quietly opened the door to Mr. Punch’s room which adjoined
his own.
He paused in the
doorway and watched Mr. Punch who stood in his nightshirt in front of the pier
mirror. Robert smiled watching Punch
making faces at himself, hunching his shoulders and lumbering in front of the
glass like a simian.
After awhile, Robert
cleared his throat.
Mr. Punch spun
around and chirped happily. “Chum! I’m a monkey!”
“I see that.”
Punch pointed to
the bed where the terrier was curled up, sleeping. “Dog Toby’s snorin’.”
“He always does.” Robert nodded. “I think it’s time for us to do the same.”
“’Spose.” Punch nodded.
“I’m through bein’ a monkey for tonight.
Had a nice chat with me puppet, too.”
“That’s nice.” Robert smiled. “I’m sure you both enjoyed that.”
“We did. Here, did Mrs. Potts die?”
“No, she just
ate too much.”
“Oh.” Punch’s eyes widened. “A person can eat too much?”
“It appears so.” Robert leaned against the door frame.
“Huh…” Punch shrugged. He then giggled, “Ain’t got nothin’ on your
feet.” He pointed.
“I haven’t.” Robert looked down.
“Too chilly for
that.” Punch said, walking over to Robert and taking his hand. “Come sit by the fire with me.”
“Very well,” Robert
grinned.
“Can we talk for
a bit before bed?” Punch asked.
“If you
like. About what would you like to talk?”
“Tell me a
story.”
“What sort of
story?”
“Whatever you
like.” Punch chirped. “Don’t matter none, just like hearin’ you
talk.”
“Well, then, let
me tell you a story about two little boys from Wimbledon…”
“You and Cecil?”
“Perhaps.” Robert winked.
“Does it have a
happy ending?”
“Very, dear
Punch.” Robert grinned. “Very happy,
indeed.”
Did you miss
Chapters 1-15 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square?
If so, you can read them here.
Come back tomorrow for Chapter 17.
