Hope - Lesley Pearse [83]
Hope walked to the Grapes in trepidation later that evening, but to her surprise it wasn’t a hideous dark dive as she’d expected, but a veritable palace, with bright gas lights, gilt pillars, huge mirrors and velveteen seats. She had marvelled at the gas lamps out on the streets, but she hadn’t expected to see them in a beer house.
‘Shut yer mouth, the fleas will jump in,’ Betsy said with a grin.
‘But it’s like a palace,’ Hope exclaimed. She wasn’t just amazed by the elegance of the place, but the customers weren’t like the woebegone folk in Lamb Lane – some of them in fact were quite smartly dressed.
‘It’s a gin palace,’ Gussie said. ‘And you’ve got to try some.’
Hope didn’t much like the taste of her first gin and water, but she had to admit the effect was pleasant. By the second one she’d forgotten about her bruised face, Lamb Lane, and that she could see no future for herself.
Gussie introduced her to his and Betsy’s friends as his cousin up from the country, and they were a lively, good-natured bunch of people. Hope guessed some of the girls were whores as they had paint on their faces and plunging necklines, but it was so good to see people who didn’t look wretched that she didn’t care.
One of Gussie’s male friends was called Basher Boulton. He had a squashed nose and a cauliflower ear, but Gussie said he was a champion prize fighter. There was another man who was talking about dog fighting; he appeared to be organizing one a few miles out of Bristol. Both these men were very sweet to her, commiserating over her bruises. Basher said he had some special ointment which would make them go double quick and maybe she could meet him at his lodgings tomorrow night so he could give it to her.
‘I know what you want to give her!’ Betsy chimed in. ‘And it’ll be over my dead body!’
Hope had never had such a good time. A man began playing a piano accordion, and she danced first with Gussie, then with everyone else who asked her. Watching the men cavorting around exuberantly, she was reminded of the May Day celebrations and harvest suppers back home. Nell, who had seen gentry dancing, had often remarked in a superior tone that country folk danced like carthorses. But Hope liked it, it was fun to be swirled around until she was dizzy. She understood now why Betsy and Gussie came out every night.
It was after midnight when Gussie took Hope’s arm and led her towards the door. ‘It’s time I took you home,’ he said.
‘But I don’t want to go home yet,’ she said, pulling back. ‘I’m having a lovely time.’
‘You’re drunk, Hope,’ he said.
‘No I’m not,’ she insisted.
He caught hold of her more tightly and drew her outside. After the sweaty heat and smoke inside, the street felt icy cold. But she also felt very dizzy and the gas light above them seemed to be swaying.
‘I’m just dizzy,’ she insisted. ‘It was the dancing. Let me go back in and I’ll sit down.’
Gussie put one hand either side of her face and kissed her nose. ‘You ain’t dizzy with dancin’, it’s the gin,’ he said. ‘You go back in there and you’ll pass out.’
His hands felt good on her face and he was looking at her in such a strange way. ‘You wouldn’t be intending to get me back home just so you can have your wicked way with me, would you?’ she giggled.
She had never noticed before how attractive his eyes were, like amber, with specks of a darker colour too, and his eyelashes were very long and thick.
‘No, I weren’t,’ he smiled. ‘But if I don’t getcha home some cove will try it on. I’m not tough enough to fight them off for you.’
She laughed, more because of the intense way he was looking at her than thinking he’d said something funny. ‘A perfect gentleman,’ she said, and leaned against his shoulder for suddenly she felt very strange and woozy.
‘And you’re a little lady,’ he said as he led her away. ‘Too good for the likes of them in there.’
Chapter Nine
Nell arrived back at Briargate