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

on their grannies if they thought they’d gain anything by it.’ Flossie’s bare feet padded on the wooden treads as she negotiated the steep stairs to the second floor. She tiptoed along a narrow passage and at the far end she opened the door to a small room with a tiny window set high in the wall. ‘You’ll be all right here tonight, but don’t make a noise,’ she said in a stage whisper.

      ‘Thanks, Flossie.’ Rose peered into the gloom. ‘I don’t suppose you could let me have a candle and some matches, could you?’

      ‘I can probably find you a stub or two, but you’ll have to come and get them, and don’t forget me chocolate.’ Flossie headed back the way they had come, leaving Rose to stow her bags away before going downstairs to collect the candles.

      Two hours later, aided by the flickering light from the two candle stubs, Rose had managed to pile up the various packing cases and boxes, and to her relief she had discovered an ancient campaign bed. She had also found some moth-eaten blankets and a stained pillow, which she did not inspect too closely. She unpacked the plain linsey-woolsey skirt and white cotton blouse she had worn when helping Laurence in the schoolroom, and shook out the creases before laying them carefully over one of the crates in the corner of the room. She must look smart and business-like when she presented at work, even if she knew very little about the new typing machine. She was both nervous and excited at the prospect of being employed in a busy newspaper office, and, once she had solved the problem of somewhere to live, she would settle down and wait for Max to return from war. He had warned her that a soldier’s wife must expect an unsettled existence, and she was prepared to follow the drum, if necessary. After all, she had travelled this far to be with the man she loved and, if it had not gone too well at the start, she now had the chance to make something of herself. Rose lay down, fully clothed. She could hear scrabbling and scratching sounds coming from behind the skirting boards, but she was too exhausted to care and she closed her eyes.

      ‘You’re late, Munday.’ Eugene glanced up from the pile of proofs on his desk. His expression was not encouraging.

      ‘Yes, Guvnor. I’m sorry,’ Rose said breathlessly. ‘It took longer than I thought to walk here.’

      ‘You should have taken a cab.’ Eugene gave her a searching look. ‘You’re shivering. Haven’t you got anything warmer to wear?’

      ‘I’m all right, thank you. It’s wet and cold outside.’

      ‘You didn’t answer my question, Munday? Haven’t you got a warm jacket or a cape or even a pair of warm gloves? How do you propose to type with fingers that are clawed like that?’

      ‘I’ll soon warm up.’

      ‘Have you had breakfast?’

      Rose shook her head. ‘It’s a bit difficult where I am at present.’

      ‘Did you have supper last evening?’

      ‘I’m sorry, Guvnor, but that’s my business.’

      ‘Not if it affects the way you work, Munday.’ Eugene sat back in his chair. ‘Does Regan know you’re lodging there?’

      ‘Have you met him?’

      ‘I don’t have to – the chap is notorious. Anyway, don’t evade the question. Have you eaten since I took you to luncheon yesterday?’

      ‘No, Guvnor, but—’

      Eugene jumped to his feet and went to open the office door. ‘Scully, two teas. Chop chop.’ He returned to his seat. ‘Now, Munday, let’s get this straight. You are on probation here, and I’m going to treat you just the same as I would anyone working for this paper. You need to get yourself some suitable clothing, and if there’s a problem with your accommodation, we’ll try to sort it out.’

      ‘Yes, Guvnor. Thank you.’

      ‘Don’t thank me, Munday. I’ll expect you to work damned hard for your wages, and you can’t do that if you catch lung fever or if you’re weak from hunger.’

      ‘It’s difficult,’ Rose murmured, looking down at her clasped hands.

      ‘Surely the girls in Black Raven Court have to eat. There must be a kitchen of sorts.’

      She raised her head to give him a withering look. ‘You obviously haven’t seen how these women live. The place is disgusting and I’ve seen pigs kept in better conditions.’

      A wry grin twisted his lips. ‘That’s better. Meek and downtrodden doesn’t suit you, Munday.’ He pulled open a drawer and took out a cash box. ‘I want you to buy yourself some more suitable clothing.’

      ‘I can’t do that.’

      He tossed the coins onto the desk. ‘Give me one good reason why not.’

      ‘You’re not responsible for my wellbeing. I can look after myself.’

      ‘This is strictly business. Call it a loan, if it makes you feel better, but the weather is set to get worse. You’re no damn good to me if you’re sick, so when you’ve had your tea I’ll get the office boy to take you to the nearest second-hand clothes shop. And buy yourself a cup of soup or a cheese roll from the stall on the corner of Chancery Lane, and you can get me one while you’re about it. I didn’t have time for breakfast either.’

      Rose tossed her head. ‘Sadie would say that’s the pot calling the kettle black.’

      ‘She sounds like a sensible woman, but a bit of a bore. Anyway, I enjoyed a good supper last evening in the company of a very attractive young lady, so there’s no comparison.’ Eugene beckoned to the office boy, who was hovering in the doorway, clutching two mugs of steaming tea. ‘Thanks, Scully.’ He waited while the spotty-faced youth placed them carefully on two mats. ‘When Miss Munday has finished her drink I want you to take her to the nearest dolly shop, and you can wait and bring her back. We don’t want her to get lost.’

      Rose reached for the tea and took a sip, glowering at Eugene over the rim of the mug. Maybe this was a mistake after all. She had been more or less free to do as she pleased at home in Bendigo, and she was not sure whether she could stand being ordered about by anyone, let alone a man she barely knew. The warmth and sweetness of the tea was already having an effect, but her fingers and toes were tingling painfully as the feeling returned to her extremities. She did not want to accept charity from Eugene, but she had underestimated the severity of a British winter, and she was in desperate need of warm clothing. However, when she received her first week’s pay she would start repaying the debt. If Pa had taught her anything, it was never to owe money to anyone. She glanced at Scully, who was waiting for her to finish her tea and he winked at her, but she turned her head away. She was used to cocky boys.

      But Scully’s attitude changed the moment they left the office and he dropped his self-assured swagger, becoming almost deferential in the way he behaved. Rose discovered that he was the eldest of seven children and his meagre wages went to his widowed mother, who worked as a charwoman in an attempt to keep a roof over their heads. Rose was sympathetic and Scully grew shy and blushed to the roots of his mousy hair, and he was clearly smitten. It might have been amusing to be the object of puppy love, but Rose was wary of hurting his feelings and she managed to bring Max into the conversation early on, describing him as her fiancé, even though their engagement was unofficial.

      Later, having scoured the second-hand shop for clothing that was not too worn or dirty, Rose felt smart and warm in a grey flannel coat and a woollen hat, which was only a bit shabby with just a couple of moth holes. She stopped at the coffee stall and bought two cheese rolls with the last of the money that Eugene had given her. She could tell by the way Scully was eyeing the food that he was very hungry and his stick-thin limbs told a tale in themselves. She handed him one of the rolls.

      ‘I’m not hungry, Scully. Do me a favour and eat this before the guvnor sees it.’

      Scully licked his lips. ‘It’s yours, miss. I couldn’t.’

      ‘No, really. The guvnor told me to get two, and I can only eat