Edward had looked beyond her stained hems, scuffed shoes and rough voice, and seen something special. He loved her—he’d shown her that afternoon in his flat just how much—and now they were going to be a proper family. He’d even called her his rough diamond once, hadn’t he?
But there was nothing rough about the ring she held in her hand. A clear square diamond. But it was the detail on the actual ring that was exquisite: painted black flowers that swirled around the curve against a white background.
‘Oh, Edward!’ Essie pictured the lace in the window at Harrods in Knightsbridge that she might be able fashion into a bonnet for their bonnie boy. A boy—she was certain—with Edward’s wide forehead and ruddy cheeks, dressed in britches and shiny new boots, just like his father. What a pretty trip they would make parading through Cheapside with a perambulator—a rabbit pie and an apple underneath to deliver to Edward for his lunch. She glanced at the church dome at the end of the street, blue in the moonlight, and imagined stepping inside with clean boots and her baby in new woollen swaddling. Edward standing proudly at her side as they attended mass.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she whispered. She extended her left hand towards Edward, the ring still resting on her palm, and let it hover in the space between them.
Edward still stood red-faced and glued to the spot. Silent.
Realising her beau was feeling a bit awkward—and perhaps a little exposed, standing under the shopfront awning—Essie considered slipping her engagement ring onto her left hand herself. Smiling, she noted he’d done well to find such a small band to fit her slender fingers.
So thoughtful. He was going to make a fine husband.
Shifting his weight and clearing his throat, Edward’s hand dived into the inside pocket of his suit and he pulled out a stiff cream envelope.
He looked almost sad as he handed it to her.
‘This … this is also for you.’
‘Thank you!’ She quickly slid a finger along the tongue of the envelope and slipped out the piece of paper inside. She held it up to catch the lamplight and strained to read it.
Edward rocked back and forth on his heels, but stepped no closer. ‘It’s a steamer ticket to Boston,’ he explained.
Essie’s heart almost exploded. He had been thinking of her the whole time he was away and now they were going to try their hand in America—together!
She looked again at the ticket in her hand then raised her eyes to his, confused. ‘But there’s only one ticket.’ She began to tremble. What did this mean? ‘So when … when will you come? And Gertie?’ The Cheapside job was finished; Freddie had told her so just last week. Had Edward taken on another job?
‘It’s all arranged. I spoke with your mother just before I came to meet you.’
She exhaled with relief as her heart sang and burst with sunshine. Finally, Ma would be proud of her. She tried to imagine him stooped in the front room, folded into their only sitting chair while her mother stood opposite smelling of sour brew, her tight puckered mouth stretching into an involuntary smile. How Essie wished she’d been present when Edward had asked Ma for her hand in marriage.
‘You leave for Boston next Wednesday with the late tide.’
‘But …’ She didn’t want to start their new life—this adventure—alone. And why must she leave so soon?
‘What about Gertie?’ she asked, suddenly agitated. ‘I can’t leave her behind …’
She pictured Edward in his Mayfair flat as he straddled her body. He had leaned low and lost himself in her breasts, cupping them with both hands and kissing them all over, groaning. Tickling her nipples with his tongue before sliding down to her stomach and—
Her face burned as her body thrummed with desire.
Nice girls shouldn’t think such things. But she’d never forget the sweet, sticky tenderness as they had lain together afterwards, her head on his chest and him stroking her arm as he promised that one day they would be together.
Essie looked again at the steamer ticket, at the diamond ring in her palm. ‘But where will we have the wedding? And when?’ A tiny part of her was giddy at the thought of Ma seeing her eldest daughter walk up the aisle and wed this fine young man.
‘The ring—it’s not for that; it’s for the child.’
Essie leaned against the lamp-post to steady herself as her breath shortened. ‘You’re … you’re not coming to Boston with me?’ She took a step back, confused. As she gripped the ring it suddenly felt like ice.
‘My parents, they’d never … they’d cut me off.’ He was looking at his shoes now, unable to meet her eye. ‘From the business … everything … I’m sorry.’
‘But what about Greenwich? You said you came looking for me! And the afternoons in Hyde Park and … and in your apartment. What happened between us was special. I felt it. You did too, surely if you explained to them—’
‘I’ve tried,’ he said softly. ‘I’m sorry, Essie, but they’ve made it quite clear: if I marry you, then I lose everything.’
‘We could move to Boston, no-one knows us there.’
He shook his head. ‘That wouldn’t work; people do know me in Boston.’
‘Somewhere else then. Anywhere …’ She was begging now.
‘I’d be cut off,’ he repeated. ‘Left with nothing. Do you understand?’ Essie stiffened and dropped her hands to her side. She did understand how awful it was to have nothing. Edward had only to look at her—and poor skinny Freddie—and see exactly what his life would look like if he were to cut himself off from his wealthy family. And he wasn’t prepared to make that sacrifice.
She covered her face with her hands. Her chest tightened and she found it hard to breathe. It had turned out just like Ma had said it would. Her shame and humiliation stung far more than the bitter wind lashing her ankles and cheeks.
‘You’ll be able to get a good price for the ring …’ Edward’s voice hardened a fraction. ‘Enough to start afresh.’ Essie could tell by his tone that he was still trying to convince himself, as much as Essie. He spoke in a clipped voice—as if he were in one of the talking pictures they’d seen on the silver screen, not warm flesh and blood standing in the evening drizzle.
‘I’m sorry, Essie,’ he said again. ‘I shouldn’t have made promises I was in no position to keep. My family’s name would be disgraced if this—’ he waved at her stomach ‘—were ever found out. It’s for the best that you leave London. To avoid any, er, confusion …’ His neck was flushed above his crisp collar. ‘It’s best to make a proper break.’
She was just another one of his jobs that needed finishing off. She blinked away the tears that were starting to form and gulped down the sobs that lodged in her throat like a stone that couldn’t be swallowed.
If she spoke, Essie knew, she might vomit all over his shiny new shoes. A part of her wanted to.
Edward glanced back over his shoulder, as if he was in a hurry to leave now. If he saw the bronze sculpture of Eros with an arrow, he chose to ignore it.
When Edward turned back to Essie, he said, ‘I hope you’re not going to make a scene. I’ve been more than reasonable under the circumstances.’ His voice was lower, colder. ‘I’ve given you a bloody diamond, Essie, for Christ’s sake.’