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

around my shoulders if you feel faint,’ Rose insisted. ‘You’re very pale.’

      ‘Good grief, are you my mother now, Munday?’ he said laughing. ‘I want to see you safe and then I’ve got a story to write up.’

      Rose fell into step beside him and she realised with a sense of fulfilment that she was beginning to recognise landmarks as they made their way along Great Tower Street. They were closer to Black Raven Court than she had supposed, but when Eugene saw the house he was obviously unimpressed.

      ‘This is worse than I remembered,’ he said angrily. ‘This isn’t the sort of place for a young woman like you, Munday.’

      Rose knocked on the door. ‘I was lucky to be brought here. I could have spent the night sitting on a crate in the station yard.’

      ‘This won’t do. There must be a way to get in touch with your fellow’s relations. They’re responsible for you in his absence.’

      ‘I’ll be fine, Guvnor. It would have been so much easier if those men hadn’t taken over the Captain’s House.’

      ‘You mentioned that place over luncheon,’ Eugene said, frowning thoughtfully. ‘You might not be able to make enquiries, but I can. Leave it to me, and—’ He broke off as the door opened.

      ‘Oh, it’s you.’ Flossie drew her wrap up to her neck, although Rose was uncomfortably aware that Eugene must have seen her state of undress. ‘Who’s this with you, Rosie? Have you brought your fancy man home with you?’

      ‘No! I have not,’ Rose protested angrily. ‘Shame on you, Flossie.’

      ‘A very natural mistake,’ Eugene said, bowing. ‘A pleasure to meet you, Miss er …’

      ‘Flossie Boxer, sir.’

      Rose glared at Eugene. ‘Thank you for seeing me home, Guvnor. Hadn’t you best get back to the office?’

      ‘I’ll see you at half-past eight in the morning, Munday. Don’t be late.’ Eugene walked away, waving the bloodied hanky like a flag.

      Flossie leaned out of the door. ‘Where’d you find a chap like that? I’d do him favours for nothing.’

      Torn between laughter and annoyance, Rose shook her finger at Flossie. ‘He’s my guvnor. I’ve got a job and I can pay my way, or I will be able to when I get my wages.’

      ‘Some people have all the luck.’ Flossie glowered at a passing youth who whistled at her and offered a penny for her services. She retreated into the house. ‘You’d best come in, although what Cora will say when she sees you is another matter. She needs her room for business, and Regan will want his piece of you if you choose to stay here. None of us gets a free ride, so to speak.’

      ‘I haven’t much choice at the moment.’ Rose made for the stairs. ‘Is Cora in?’

      ‘Dunno, love. I ain’t seen her today. She might be in the pub, touting for business, but she don’t lock her door. We’re an honest lot in here.’ Flossie followed Rose up the stairs, her stays creaking like the masts on a tea clipper at every tortuous step. ‘I’ll be in my room if you need me, duck.’

      ‘Thanks, Flossie.’ Rose tried the door to Cora’s room, and, finding it unlocked, she went inside to wait for her friend’s return. She sat on the unmade bed for a few minutes, gazing round at the disarray, and suddenly, unable to bear the mess any longer, she leaped off the bed and began to tidy things away. She ventured down to the basement where Cora had told her there was a communal kitchen, although, judging by the thick layer of grease and dust, not many took advantage of the facilities. There was a stone sink in a small scullery and a pump out in the yard close to the privy. Rose filled a bucket with water, but there was no means of heating it as the ancient range was covered in rust and it did not look as if a fire had been lit for some time. Rose hefted the bucket upstairs, together with an empty flour sack she had found in the larder.

      Back in Cora’s room, she set about a cleaning project that took all her energy and ingenuity. She swept the grate and put the cinders into the sack together with the contents of the overflowing ashtray and the paper wrappings of past meals, which were green with mould. It took a couple of trips down to the back yard to dispose of the rubbish, and she scraped together enough coal and kindling to get a fire going. With the kettle on a trivet, and the room beginning to look almost homely, Rose was folding the last of Cora’s discarded clothing when the door opened and Cora herself breezed into the room. She was followed by a burly person wearing soiled workman’s clothes and muddy boots.

      ‘Blimey! What’s going on here?’ Cora demanded, gazing round in horror. ‘What d’you think you’re doing, miss?’

      Rose smiled proudly. ‘I’m just trying to repay your kindness, Cora.’

      ‘I thought you was on your own,’ the man growled. ‘I ain’t into twosomes.’

      ‘Wash your mouth out, you great oaf,’ Cora snapped. ‘As for you, girl, make yourself scarce and leave my things alone. I don’t want no one poking about in my room.’

      ‘I’m sorry, Cora. I was trying to do you a favour.’

      ‘Get out and find yourself somewhere else to kip. A girl has to earn her living.’

      ‘I thought I was helping.’

      ‘Out, now.’ Cora advanced on her, hands fisted.

      Rose snatched up her things and backed towards the open door. ‘All right. I said I’m sorry.’

      Cora bent down and picked up the carpet bag and tossed it out onto the landing. The door slammed in Rose’s face and she found herself once again with nowhere to go. Perhaps Cora would change her mind later, but Rose could not afford to take that chance. It was getting dark outside and rain had started to fall during her last trip to the back yard.

      ‘I warned you.’ Flossie popped her head round her door, appearing suddenly like the cuckoo in a Swiss clock that Rose had possessed when she was a child. ‘Where will you go now?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ Rose said slowly. ‘I haven’t had time to think.’

      ‘Regan is hanging around downstairs.’ Flossie opened the door wider, glancing up and down the corridor as if afraid that he might suddenly appear. ‘He’s got his eye on you, girl. Steer clear of him, that’s what I say.’

      ‘How do you stand it here, Flossie?’ Rose asked urgently. ‘What brought you to a place like this?’

      Flossie folded her arms beneath her ample bosom. ‘I suppose you want to know how I became a fallen woman. Well, love, for your information, I was born on the pavement outside the London Hospital. My ma couldn’t walk no further and she collapsed – I popped out kicking and screaming and she croaked.’

      ‘Oh, dear! She died giving birth to you?’

      ‘No, girl. She died from a mixture of jigger gin and laudanum. It was lucky that one of the nurses found me and took me into the hospital. They saved my life and dumped me in the orphanage. I consider meself to have risen above the pavement, and I don’t touch alcohol nor drugs, but I do love chocolate. That’s my biggest sin.’

      ‘I shouldn’t have judged you. I’m sorry, Flossie.’

      ‘You got a lot to learn.’ Flossie glanced at the carpet bag. ‘You can’t go looking for a place to stay in the dark – not round here, anyway.’

      ‘I haven’t got much choice.’

      Flossie emerged from her room, tying a sash round her waist in an attempt to secure her loose robe. ‘Don’t tell Regan I said so, but there’s a boxroom on the next floor. Regan uses it to store things because it’s too small to take a double bed, if you get my meaning, so it’s no use for any of his girls.’

      ‘I just need a roof over my head for tonight. I start work early in the morning.’

      ‘You