Dancing the Charleston, page 32
It couldn’t be true. Maybe it was all a terrible dream … I tried opening my eyes as wide as I could, wanting to wake up into my own old life, with Mother safe in her grassy bed under the yew tree and Aunty sewing in her workroom.
Families were jostling their way towards the exit, keen to get the children home before bedtime. So many families, all with a mother and a father, and they seemed to be staring at me, pointing, sneering, holding their noses in disgust like Cedric.
I was desperate to get away. I tried pushing through the crowd, and bumped into a child, nearly knocking it over. The father seized hold of me and shouted, his face red and angry. I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying and only cried harder.
He let me go, and I staggered into a little clump of bushes and sank down, hiding from everyone, my head in my hands.
‘Hey there, what’s the matter?’ Someone was scrabbling their way through the bushes after me.
I tried to get up and toppled over.
‘I should just sit still and have a good cry, dear.’ It was a woman’s voice. She sounded soft and warm, like Mother – which made me sob even more.
‘There now,’ she said, and she settled herself down beside me, patting my back as if I was her child.
I cried and cried, until at last the sobs slowed down. I sniffed hard and tried to wipe my face.
‘Here.’ The woman handed me a handkerchief and I mopped my face.
‘Thank you,’ I said, my voice croaky. ‘Why did you come after me?’
‘Because you looked pretty desperate. I know how that feels,’ she told me.
I looked at her, blinking through my tears. She was small and thin and quite old, but her hair was bright red, and her blue eyes were beautiful.
‘Sometimes it helps to have a really good cry,’ she said. ‘But sometimes it makes no difference. You cry and cry, and nothing changes, and you’ve just given yourself a splitting headache on top of all your woes.’
‘Yes,’ I said, sniffling.
‘You haven’t hurt yourself, have you?’
‘No.’
‘It’s just hurting inside?’
I nodded.
‘That’s the worst sort of hurt,’ she said. ‘What’s your name, my love?’
‘Mona.’
‘Pretty.’ She peered at me. ‘You came to have a peep at me, didn’t you? You were with that snooty miss with the bobbed hair. I stuck my tongue out at her.’
I stared at her. ‘Oh my goodness, you’re Queen Elizabeth!’ I gasped. She looked so different in her short green dress and jacket, cut in the latest fashion.
‘Yes, I am, and it’s the worst job in the world, standing still like that for hour after hour, with only ten-minute breaks. When will I ever learn? I once had a job as a mermaid in a seaside carnival, and that was bad enough, but at least I was lying down.’
‘I dressed up as a mermaid for a ball! So did Esmeralda, but she looked much better than me. She’s the snooty miss,’ I said.
‘Is she a friend or a sister?’
‘Neither, really.’
‘Won’t she be wondering where you’ve got to?’
‘She won’t care. She doesn’t like me much,’ I said, my voice wobbling. ‘So if you’re here, are there only nine beauties left?’
‘My friend Diamond’s doing the evening shift – I’m meeting someone in the West End. She is a diamond too: she’s blonde and has to wear a red wig – it must make her itch like crazy in that hot glass cage. The ruff makes you itch too. I come out in a rash and have to powder my neck to disguise it.’
‘I’m sorry I’m holding you up,’ I said.
‘Oh, never mind. He can wait. I’m not sure I should be meeting him anyway. You’d think I’d know better at my age. I’m not lucky in love. Sometimes I think I’ve made all the wrong choices. Maybe I should have followed Queen Elizabeth’s example and kept men at bay. Still, she had a good career. It must be grand work being Queen.’ She chuckled.
‘Have you always worked as a model then?’ I asked.
‘I’ve done all sorts. I was actually on the stage at one time. You’re too young to have heard of me, but I was quite famous once. But then age caught up with me and the parts fizzled out. Perhaps I’ll be in demand again soon. A casting director will ponder, Now, who would be perfect to play the part of an ancient old crone? I know, send for Emerald Star!’
‘Is that your name? It’s beautiful,’ I said.
‘Well, I chose it carefully. I’ve had several names in my time. My friends call me Hetty Feather, my foundling name.’ She shrugged. ‘I think it’s pretty hideous, but I’m stuck with it now.’ She rummaged in her bag and found a tin of fruit drops. ‘Here, have a sweetie, Mona. My throat always hurts when I’ve been crying.’
I took one gratefully. ‘What do you mean, your foundling name?’
‘Mama couldn’t keep me, so she was forced to put me in the Foundling Hospital. It was a horrible place, with the meanest matron in the world. We were brought up very strictly, and trained to be servant girls. Never be a servant, dear, it’s a dog’s life. Get yourself a good education if you possibly can,’ Hetty said, taking a fruit drop and sucking it with gusto.
‘I’m going to a girls’ high school in September,’ I told her.
‘Well, good for you! I knew you were a bright girl. Are you looking forward to it?’
‘I suppose so,’ I said. I hugged my knees. ‘Only everything’s turned upside down now.’ I swallowed hard to stop myself crying and nearly choked on my fruit drop.
‘Goodness, choke up, chicken,’ said Hetty, thumping me on the back. ‘So what’s gone wrong then?’
‘I’ve been brought up by my aunt. It’s always been just Aunty and me. She’s a dressmaker,’ I said, wiping my eyes again.
‘Ah, I’m not surprised. I’ve been admiring your pretty frock, dear. I’ve always made my own clothes, and I like to think I cut quite a dash, but I haven’t got that professional touch.’ She picked up the hem of my dress and clucked appreciatively. ‘Such tiny even stitches! She’s a brilliant dressmaker, your aunt.’
‘But I’ve just found out that she’s not really my aunt. All these years she’s been lying to me. She told me that my mother died when I was born, but now they tell me that she’s my mother,’ I said in a rush.
‘Who’s “they”? The snooty girl with the bob?’
‘Yes, her, and her cousin. Cedric said my aunty was a hussy and it was disgusting. He said I was disgusting, and held his nose as if I smelled,’ I said, shuddering.
‘Well, he sounds a right charmer. Do you think he’s telling the truth?’ Hetty asked, putting her arm round me.
‘Roland said it was true, and I know he wouldn’t lie,’ I said. ‘I never thought Aunty would lie. She was always so cross with me if I told the tiniest fib, but now I find out that she’s been lying all along. She’s a hateful hypocrite,’ I muttered.
‘Hey, hey, don’t be so fierce,’ said Hetty, and she gave me a little shake. ‘Why do you think she’s been lying all this time?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Of course you do! It was to protect you. Some folk can be very mean to children whose parents aren’t married. I should know. All us children in the Foundling Hospital had unwed mothers, and it was considered shameful. People pointed and sneered at us whenever we were allowed outside. Your mother didn’t want that to happen to you. She obviously wanted you brought up respectable. So she told a harmless little lie.’
‘It was a big, big, big lie,’ I insisted.
‘So she could keep you and bring you up herself. Don’t look so sorry for yourself, you silly girl. I’d give anything to have been brought up by my mother. For years and years I didn’t know who she was – and then I lost her, the person I loved most in the world.’ She shook her head. ‘You’ll have me in tears soon.’
‘But Aunty’s not a bit like a real mother. I was so sure I knew what Mother was like. I used to go and talk to her in the graveyard, and she talked back, I’m sure she did,’ I whispered.
‘My saints, I did that after my dear mama passed away. Still do, if truth be told. You and me, Mona, we’ve got a lot in common. I ran away once too, when I was just about your age. And this wonderful circus lady looked after me and gave me cake! Then another kind lady took me back to the Foundling Hospital, because London’s no place for a little girl on her own. Now it’s my turn to be a wonderful kind lady! Let’s reunite you with your friends.’
‘I don’t want to be reunited!’
‘Well, you can’t wander around all on your own, it’s not safe, especially now it’s starting to get dark. Come on, poppet, up you get,’ she said.
Hetty pulled me up and led me out onto the path. I looked around at the crowds – they stretched as far as I could see.
‘How will I ever find them?’ I said, starting to panic.
‘I’ll take you to the children’s crèche. That’s where all the lost children end up. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find them there. But listen just a second.’ Hetty put her hands on my shoulders and looked at me steadily. ‘You give your mother a big hug when you see her. She’s hung onto you and brought you up with care – I can see that. You cherish her while you can. And keep your chin up. You’re as good as anyone else. Likely better! That dreadful old matron at the hospital said that I was a child of Satan and would never amount to anything. Ha! I’m only Queen of all England now!’
We set off along the path, and suddenly the twilight shone with thousands of coloured lights. The big concrete pavilions and palaces were outlined, and above the great stadium a rainbow of searchlights lit the entire sky. Everyone gasped and shouted and marvelled, and Hetty Feather whirled me round and round until I was breathless.
Then she took me to the children’s crèche, reassuring me all the way.
‘But what if they’re not there?’ I asked. ‘What if they’ve given up and caught the Underground train?’
‘Then you’ll come with me, and we’ll meet up with my gentleman friend and he’ll take us to Rules, which is very grand but not too frightening for girls like us, and I’ll have champagne and oysters, and you’ll have a tiny sip and a nibble if you promise not to be ill. Then you and I will go back to my rooms and we’ll tuck you up in my bed for the night, though heaven knows how I’m going to get you home in the morning.’
‘I don’t want to go home! Can’t I stay with you, Hetty Feather? Please can I? I won’t be any trouble, I promise,’ I begged.
But suddenly Mr Benjamin was there, running towards me, his curls awry, his jacket unbuttoned, his collar undone.
‘Mona!’ he cried, and swept me up in his arms. ‘I’ve been going simply demented! I can’t believe I’ve got you safe at last!’ I could feel his heart thumping beneath his shirt.
Behind him I saw the others come running too.
‘Oh, Mona, we thought we’d never find you,’ said Roland, and he hugged me as well.
‘I didn’t mean to upset you so,’ said Esmeralda. She actually looked as if she’d been crying!
‘I thought I’d never see you again, and I felt absolutely dreadful because you’re my best friend,’ said Marcella.
‘Golly, you’ve been missing for ages,’ said Bruno.
‘Why ever did you run away?’ Ambrose asked. ‘Poor Benjy here went utterly berserk when he found you were missing. And what did you do to make those dreadful relations froth at the mouth?’
‘Don’t let’s even talk about them now,’ said Mr Benjamin firmly. He turned to Hetty Feather. ‘Madam, I am entirely in your debt. How can I ever repay you for restoring this little girl to us?’
‘Think nothing of it,’ she told him cheerfully. ‘Mona and I have taken a real shine to each other. We have a lot in common.’
‘Good heavens, I think I recognize you!’ he said.
‘She’s the model who dressed up as Queen Elizabeth,’ said Esmeralda, looking a little shame-faced.
‘You are far more than a model, madam,’ said Mr Benjamin. ‘I think you are actually Miss Emerald Star!’
‘I am indeed,’ said Hetty happily.
‘I saw you when I was a little boy!’ he declared.
‘My goodness, so did I!’ said Ambrose. ‘You were magnificent.’
‘Oh yes, I’ve been around a long, long while,’ said Hetty.
‘And now you are clearly enjoying your heyday,’ said Mr Benjamin gallantly. ‘I do hope you can accompany us on the Underground. There are so many things I’d like to ask you. Perhaps you might even be kind enough to give us your autograph …’
On the train they sat on either side of her, though Mr Benjamin also kept a firm hold of my hand, as if he feared I might make a bolt for it. Marcella held my other hand, though she looked exhausted and her eyes kept closing. Bruno was already fast asleep on Esmeralda’s lap, crumpling her dress. Roland peered along the row every so often, nodding at me reassuringly.
They were all being so kind to me. They weren’t even angry that I’d run away and worried them so much. And they didn’t seem to care that Aunty was really my mother, even though Mr George and his family thought it so terrible.
When we got out at the railway station, Mr Benjamin asked for Hetty’s address so that he could send her some flowers. She seemed happy to oblige – and when she gave me a goodbye hug she asked if I’d write to her.
‘Maybe you and I could go to Rules together one day. I’d love to hear how you’re getting on, my dear,’ she said. ‘You will give your mother a big hug when you get home, won’t you?’
I nodded, although I had no intention of doing any such thing. I was dreading seeing Aunty. I couldn’t possibly start thinking of her as Mother yet – I was still too angry with her. I decided I’d try not to shout or cry. I’d be coldly dignified but unforgiving. I didn’t see how we could ever be close again.
I practised what I was going to say to her in my head, but on the train back to Hailbury I fell fast asleep, and barely woke to climb into the back of the car. When we reached Gatekeeper’s Cottage, Mr Benjamin roused me gently and helped me out.
‘Would you like me to come in with you and talk to – to Miss Watson?’ he asked.
‘No thank you.’
‘I’m sorry Cedric was so unpleasant. It must have been a terrible shock. We need never speak of the matter again if you’d sooner not. But I’d just like to say one thing, Mona. I’m so glad you’re my niece, my dear,’ he whispered.
Then the cottage door burst open, and there was Aunty, still dressed. She was weeping.
‘Oh, thank the Lord! You’re so late! I thought you must have been in a terrible accident,’ she sobbed.
‘A thousand apologies, dear Miss Watson,’ said Mr Benjamin. ‘We had a little mishap – but I promise we are all safe and sound. Goodnight now. Mona probably needs to go straight to bed – she’s very tired.’
Aunty took hold of me and pulled me indoors. She was shivering. ‘What mishap? Whatever happened? Oh, Mona, I’ve been beside myself. I’ve been waiting hour after hour. I didn’t know what to do! But thank heaven you’re back safe now!’ She made to embrace me, but I pulled away sharply.
‘What’s the matter? Why are you acting so strange? Have you done something wrong? Come on, own up! Tell me the truth!’ she cried.
All my plans for acting with cold dignity disappeared in a flash.
‘How dare you order me to tell the truth!’ I shouted. ‘What sort of a mother are you?’
She flinched, then closed her eyes and clutched her chest for a moment. Finally she shook her head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mona. Why on earth are you calling me a mother?’
‘Because I know you are my mother. Lots of other people know too. All this time they must have been mocking me behind my back! And there I was, going, my aunty this, my aunty that, when you’re not my aunty and you never have been.’ I clenched my fists, trembling with rage.
‘Who’s been saying that?’ she asked hoarsely, leaning against the wall.
‘All the Somersets for a start,’ I said.
‘Mr Benjamin?’ she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.
‘No, not Mr Benjamin. He knows all about me – they all do now – but it was Cedric who told me. He said horrid things. He even held his nose,’ I said.
‘Mr Benjamin took him to the exhibition too?’
‘No – we met him and Ada by chance. He said he wasn’t allowed to talk to me because I was disgusting,’ I said. ‘And he said you were a hussy.’
Aunty covered her face and hunched over, silent now. I thought she might be crying. My stomach churned. I wanted her to keep denying it or to slap me for my cheek. I didn’t want her to stay bent over like a little old woman.
‘Are you crying?’ I asked, my voice wobbling.
She still didn’t say anything.
‘Perhaps Cedric was making it up,’ I said in a very small voice.
Aunty sniffed. ‘No, he was telling the truth,’ she said. She sounded broken. She slid slowly down the wall and sat in a little heap on the floor.
‘Aunty?’
She shook her head. I didn’t know what to do. I wished I’d held my tongue. I stood there, towering over her.
‘Aunty, please!’ I remembered the bottle in the sideboard. I ran to get it and then thrust it at her. ‘It’s the medicinal brandy. Take a sip. It’ll make you feel better,’ I said.
‘I’m not taking to drink!’ said Aunty, sounding more like herself, but she took the top off the bottle and had a couple of sips. The taste made her shudder, but then she took a deep breath and sat up straighter.
‘Yes, I am your mother, Mona. But I was never a hussy, even though I’m not married.’ She rubbed the third finger of her left hand. ‘And I’m not stupid – I don’t suppose your father would ever have married me, but he was a caring man all the same, and he did his best for me. For us.’
‘Tell me,’ I said, sitting down cross-legged beside her.
