33

The trunks and cases were stacked up by the stage door ready to be taken by carriage to King’s Cross Station and from there by train to Yorkshire. There was the first hint of spring in the air. Freddie was in the yard playing with Ophelia the cat. Already his new velvet knickerbockers were covered with mud.

Grace shook her head and smiled at Sarah Easingford, who was sitting on one of the trunks. The colour seemed to have come back into her eyes. Every day since she and Grace were released from the asylum she seemed more substantial as if she were a ghost coming back to life.

“I fear we’re never going to make a gentleman out of Freddie,” laughed Grace.

Sarah smiled. “In my experience, gentlemen are overrated.”

Grace reached for Sarah’s hand, and asked softly, “Are you nervous about returning to Easingford?”

“The past is the past,” said Sarah. “I cannot change it. But I can make a future for myself. The loss of Edgar is unbearable, but I never really knew my son. He was taken from me when he was just a babe. Finding he had a family, finding you and my grandson, Freddie, are very great compensations. And then of course there is my great-niece, Aurora, in whom my poor dear sister lives on every day. And Edward, of course.” She sighed. “I pity my dead husband. Poor Henry. They say he died of a heart attack, but I think what little heart he had left was broken by the knowledge that he’d brought such dishonour to the only thing he truly cared about: the ancient name of Easingford.”

Aurora, Edward, Thomas, Mr Cherryble and the new Lord Easingford’s lawyer, Mr Merryfield, pushed back their chairs in Thomas’s study and stood.

“I think that’s the last of the papers that need to be signed for now,” declared Mr Merryfield, and he turned to Edward. “You are leaving for Easingford immediately?”

“Within the hour,” said Edward, glancing at Aurora’s pale face. Mr Merryfield nodded. “You must be eager to see your birthright,” he said.

Edward gave a non-committal grunt. “It will be strange seeing the place where I was born, and where I was supposed to have died.” He rose. “Aurora, my dear one, I’m sure you want to say goodbye to your friends. Gentlemen, please come downstairs with me for a drink. I’ll see you shortly, Aurora.”

Edward and Thomas went downstairs together chatting like old friends. Thomas had already become a bit of a father figure to Edward, and Edward had insisted on giving Thomas an interest-free loan to secure Campion’s future.

Aurora found Rose riding the bicycle up and down in the yard. Her eyes started brimming with tears. “I’ve only just found my Campion’s family,” she said, “and now I’ve got to get used to a whole new one.”

“Edward’s lovely,” said Rose. “He reminds me so much of Ned. And Thomas really likes him.”

“He is very nice,” said Aurora, “but I keep wondering when he will stop feeling like a stranger and start feeling like a father.”

She looked apologetically at Rose. “I’m so sorry, Rose. I know I sound like I’m moaning. All I ever wanted was a real family and now I’ve got a ready-made one including a father, two aunts and a cousin, and yet it’s surprisingly hard to get used to. And leaving Campion’s and you and Effie and Thomas, and leaving doing our act and going to Easingford…” She trailed off.

“You should tell Edward how you feel,” insisted Rose.

“But I don’t want to seem ungrateful.”

“I think a man who gave up playing Hamlet will understand,” said Rose. “And in any case I think he probably already knows.”

They found Edward sitting alone on the middle of the stage in the empty theatre.

“I love this stage,” he said.

“We do too,” said Rose.

“I can understand that,” said Edward. “I’ve only been at Campion’s a couple of weeks and already it feels like home.”Aurora burst into tears.

“Aurora!” said Edward, jumping up and putting his arm around her. “Please don’t cry. Listen, let’s go to Easingford and take a look. And maybe Thomas will let us take Rose with us for a little holiday. And if it doesn’t feel like home – well then, we’ll come straight back here again. We can settle Sarah, Grace and Freddie in Yorkshire if that’s what they all want, but there’s no reason why you and I have to live at Easingford. If you want to come back to Campion’s, I won’t stop you. I promise.”

“Do you really mean that?” asked Aurora.

“I’d never lie to you, Aurora; there have been too many lies in the past.”

Edward looked at Rose. “Will you come with us for a week or two? If Thomas doesn’t mind?”

“I’ll be delighted to see the back of her for a bit,” grinned Thomas, walking on to the stage to join them. “You’d better go and pack, Rosie, if you really are quite sure you want to go to the country. I went there once and it was horrible. Full of cows and sheep and so dark at night I thought I’d gone blind.”

Rose and Aurora giggled. “They say that in the country when there are no clouds you can see all the stars in the night sky,” said Rose.

“You can see stars every night of the week at Campion’s Palace of Varieties and Wonders, clouds or no clouds,” replied Thomas tartly. “You don’t have to go all the way to the ruddy country.”

They all burst out laughing. Rose stood for a moment on the stage after the others had left to gather their belongings. She suddenly sensed movement in the gallery. She looked up and saw a ghostly figure. It was Ned. But he was much more insubstantial than he had been on previous sightings. He looked at her, smiled, mouthed the words, “Thank you” and disappeared. Rose knew she wouldn’t see him again.

The carriage rumbles along muddy, rutted Hangman’s Alley. Just before they turn the corner, Rose and Aurora both lean out of the window to get one last glimpse of Campion’s and of Thomas, Effie, Lottie, Molly, Jem and all the others, including O’Leary, who are standing outside waving goodbye. Rose knows she will hold the image of their wild, smiling, happy faces in her heart for the entire journey to Yorkshire. The carriage heads off alongside the silvery Thames. There is no fog today. The great river shimmers in the sunlight under an apricot sky. The mudlarks see Rose and Aurora through the open window and chase after the carriage, shouting. Rose takes Aurora’s hand and squeezes it hard. As they clatter onward, Rose puts her head out of the carriage window to listen to the hum of London. The city and Campion’s sing to her, a siren song calling her back.