Lily and George were settling into the comfort of their first-class compartment on the ten o’clock train bound for London. Lily had asked George to go with her on the week-long business trip; she was excited about her new bordello that was just about ready to open, and wanted to share it with her trusted friend; and, of course, George had happily agreed to be her companion.
The second-class carriages of the black locomotive preparing to leave the station were all full to the brim with soldiers, hanging out of the pull-down windows, kissing loved ones and waving farewell to family and friends.
‘To be young and in love,’ Lily mused as she watched a tearful young woman wave her handsome soldier off as the whistle sounded out and the steam train started to judder away from the station platform.
‘I do wish our Rosie would find herself a decent bloke,’ Lily said, more to herself than to George, who was resting his new cane against the leather interior; although what Lily was really meaning was that she wished Rosie would meet someone who would love and accept her for who she was – and, moreover, what she did.
George grunted by way of agreement.
‘There’s no man I know good enough for our Rosie,’ George added as an afterthought.
Anyone listening to their conversation would have thought they were talking about their daughter, and, in many ways, Rosie was not so unlike their own kin as they both cared deeply for her. Loved her. And had been there for her when she needed them most.
‘She won’t admit it, but I can tell she’s taken with that detective of hers. Bleeding typical that Rosie’s drawn to someone she really cannot get involved with. If he were to ever find out about the bordello and her part in it, there could be problems. For us all,’ Lily said. Her French accent always waned whenever she was on her own with just George for company.
Lily’s initial excitement at hearing how Rosie had bumped into DS Miller had ebbed dramatically. She’d chided herself that she’d been so encouraging and enthusiastic, blaming it on the fact she’d been so hyped up after returning from London and wasn’t thinking straight.
And then Rosie had mentioned she’d bumped into him again – and this time she had gone for a tea with the damned detective. She’d never known Rosie to go out for a drink with anyone of the opposite sex; it was just so typical that – when she did – the person had to be bloody old bill.
Lily and George were both more than aware that if the bordello was ever raided, it would be the proprietors who would be arrested, and she and Rosie would be looking at a possible prison sentence, or, at the very least, a huge fine that would wipe them out financially. It was a risk they could not take.
‘Of course, the other way of viewing it is that Rosie’s detective could end up being a beneficial person to have on side,’ George chipped in.
‘Mm,’ Lily mused for a moment, thinking of the VIP clients she knew were already keen to visit her new Marie-Antoinette-themed London bordello. Lily had copied the so-called ‘blue-light’ brothels she had heard about that had started up in Paris, which were catering for a higher class of clientele. It meant her new venture could be kept well beneath the radar as it would be very small, very expensive, and very exclusive, thereby attracting those of wealth and influence who would be able to pull any strings should the new establishment feel its collar tugged by the long arm of the law.
‘No. The impression I get of this copper is that he’s straight as a die,’ Lily said.
George grunted his agreement again. Lily was usually right about people.
‘I could ask around … find out about this detective sergeant if you want?’ George asked.
Lily nodded her assent.
As the scenery changed, and the view from their carriage window was filled with the most beautiful rolling green landscape, Lily thought about Rosie and how she wanted to tell her what she thought, advise her, help her. They were more alike than Rosie perhaps realised. Lily had also been through the same horrendous abuse when she was just fifteen years old – the same age as Rosie had been when her perverted uncle had taken her innocence, and she knew only too well how that affected a young girl’s mind. Lily had come to terms with what had happened to her a long time ago, but she knew it was something that never really left you and was instrumental in forming the kind of woman a person turned out to be.
Luckily Rosie had chosen not to become a victim, but to survive, and although the cards she’d been dealt were not the best by a long shot, she’d played them well.
‘She got the sharp end of the stick, but she made the most of what she had – a pretty face and a good head on her shoulders.’ Lily spoke her thoughts aloud.
George had started to nod off but shook himself awake when he heard Lily talking.
‘Who Rosie? Yes, yes … brains and beauty,’ he agreed, before sinking back into his daytime slumber.
Lily had seen Rosie’s natural flair for business shortly after she’d started working for her. She had just turned seventeen, but was managing to juggle what money she had to pay for her little sister’s boarding school fees, as well as keep her own head above water.
For Lily, it had been like looking into a mirror. She had seen the same determination and financial acumen as she herself had possessed when she had started building her own business just after her eighteenth birthday.
But when Lily had suggested Rosie become more involved in the business, she had knocked her back, saying she saw her work at the bordello as just a temporary measure.
Lily, of course, knew the kind of work she and so many other women had done throughout the ages required you to cross a certain, invisible line – one over which you could never return. It was never ‘just temporary’.
But Lily knew Rosie had had to learn this for herself.
Now, after last year’s nightmare, it seemed Rosie had not only finally realised this, but, moreover, was determined to make it work for her.
It was as if, contemplated Lily as the train pulled into York station, as the scars on her face healed, Rosie had finally been able to accept her life.
Rosie had been heading for self-destruction but, like the phoenix rising out of the ashes, had pulled herself back up and more than dusted herself down. The horror she’d endured at the hands of her sadist uncle might have left her permanently branded and without the advantage of her looks, but it had not pushed her under, but actually made her stronger.
As if echoing Lily’s private thoughts, George half opened his eyes and said aloud: ‘She’s a survivor that girl. Born survivor. They could do with more like her in the army …’
And if the past few months were anything to go by, it was working well for the pair of them, as well as the girls they employed.
Which was all the more reason Rosie did not need any man meddling in her life, Lily reflected, gazing out of the window.
‘We really don’t need any nosy parker copper sticking his oar in.’ Lily voiced her thoughts aloud, shuffling uneasily in her seat.
‘Life’s good for us all at the moment – we don’t need anyone upsetting the apple cart.’
George thought for a moment.
‘I don’t think Rosie wants any more complications in her life at the moment,’ he said thoughtfully.
‘I hope you’re right, George. I really do,’ Lily said, settling back into the comfort of the padded seats and closing her eyes for a little cat nap before they hit the hustle and bustle of the capital.
‘But,’ she philosophised, ‘love’s so bloomin’ unpredictable. It takes you places you just don’t expect to go.’
‘Here, here. I’ll agree with that,’ George said, a big smile spreading across his face as he put his hand on Lily’s and gave it a gentle squeeze.