Hetty Feather Read online

  Jem reached up to Gideon in her arms and kissed his white cheek. Then he bent and kissed me too, on both my cheeks and then my lips.

  'Goodbye, Hetty. I love you so,' he mumbled.

  'I love you too, Jem. I love you, I love you, I love you.'

  'You won't forget me, will you, Hetty?'

  'Never ever ever ever ever ever . . .' I still chanted it as Mother tore our hands apart and bustled Gideon and me past the barrier and the ticket man, urging us towards the train. I craned my neck and saw Jem waving and waving. I sawed my own free arm wildly in the air until Mother found the third-class carriages at last and tugged us up into the train as the whistle went.

  I sat on the seat by the door, my legs sticking out. I fingered the leather strap to open the window. As we started chugging slowly out of the station, I wondered if I dared leap right out. I could jump onto the platform, rejoin Jem, and then we could run away together . . .

  Mother slapped my hands away from the strap. 'Stop that, Hetty! Do you want to fall out to your death?'

  'Yes!' I declared, deciding I did indeed want to die if I couldn't be with Jem.

  As the train gathered speed and hastened through the town and out into the countryside, I pictured myself leaping out of the window. My guardian angel would scurry down and snatch me up in his strong arms. We would fly up and up to Heaven. I would wear a snowy nightgown and build castles in the clouds and jump from star to star . . .

  'I definitely want to die,' I declared.

  'That's a dreadful thing to say, child,' said Mother, shocked. 'You can't mean it.'

  'Yes, I do. I'd like to go to Heaven right this minute.'

  'If you choose to kill yourself, you'll go straight to the Other Place, Hetty,' Mother reminded me.

  I thought about H-e-l-l. I remembered the time a hot coal fell out of the fire and glanced against my leg. It had hurt so badly I screamed and screamed – and then I'd had to stump around with a rag bandage for a week or more. I pictured burning my whole body, cooking for all eternity.

  I decided I didn't want to die just yet. I stopped fiddling with the carriage door and slumped in my seat, my chin on my chest. Gideon reached out and clutched my hand. His eyes were wide with fear now. He burrowed hard against Mother.

  'There now, my lambkin, Mother's here,' she said automatically.

  Gideon kept quiet, but he started crying, tears seeping down his cheeks. I cried too, clutching my rag baby, using her soft legs as a handkerchief when I got too damp and soggy. Mother pulled me closer, her arms round both of us now.

  The train started slowing down. I peered out of the window in agitation. Were we there already?

  Mother saw my expression. 'It's a long journey, Hetty. A couple of hours until we get to London town.'

  Gideon wailed fearfully, understanding properly now. The train stopped at a little country station and a large woman in a purple gown squeezed herself into our carriage. She smelled very sweet and her cheeks were very red. I thought she must have been running hard to catch the train, but Mother sniffed slightly and edged away from her.

  The purple lady beamed at all three of us. 'Hello, my dearies. Why the tears and long faces?' She peered at Gideon's pale face and dark-circled eyes. 'Oh dear, is he not well, the little lad?'

  'He's been poorly,' Mother said shortly. She stuck out her shoulder, trying to protect Gideon from the purple woman's glance.

  She looked at me instead. 'And what about this little mite?' she asked. 'Why are you crying so, my dearie?'

  I sniffed, not knowing what to say. 'I don't want to go to Hell,' I mumbled – though I wanted to go to the hospital even less.

  'Hetty!' Mother hissed.

  The purple women shook with laughter. We could hear her stays creaking. She threw back her head, her chins wobbling. Then she reached into her reticule for a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her streaming eyes. 'Children!' she said to Mother. 'Oh my Lord, the things they say!' She looked at me, pinching my cheek with her fat fingers. 'Cheer up, little girlie. Have you been a bad girl plaguing your mother, is that it? Here, I know what will cheer you up.' She ferreted around at the bottom of her bag and came up with a fruit drop as red as a ruby. 'Aha, what have we here? Pop it in your mouth quick!'

  'Thank you kindly, but Hetty's not allowed—' Mother started, but the drop was in my mouth before she could finish her sentence.

  'There, that worked a treat, didn't it?' said the purple woman triumphantly. 'Shall we find one for your brother now?' She discovered an emerald- green fruit drop and offered it to Gideon.

  Mother sighed. 'Oh, very well.'

  She stoppered Gideon's mouth with the sweet.

  'Say thank you, children,' said Mother.

  I thanked the purple woman and Gideon nodded his head.

  'Think nothing of it, my dears,' she said. 'How old are you, missy?' she asked me.

  'I'm five going on six, ma'am,' I said.

  'And what about you, little boy?'

  Gideon said nothing. Mother didn't seem inclined to answer for him.

  'He's five too,' I piped up.

  The purple woman seemed surprised. She peered at Gideon, she peered at me. Then she looked at Mother. 'They're never twins! They don't look a jot alike.'

  'They're not twins,' Mother said uncomfortably.

  'Oh my. But they are brother and sister?' She pulled one of my red plaits. Then she lowered her voice. 'Do they perhaps have different fathers? Neither child favours you, my dear.'

  Mother snorted down her nose. 'I don't care to discuss it. Particularly not in front of the children.' She couldn't have been plainer if she'd said Mind your own business – but the purple woman would not be put off.

  'No need to be so humpty-tumpty, missus,' she said, chuckling. 'My two kiddies have two fathers, and neither father was my husband, but we've managed just fine and dandy – and I've a real husband now to support us all.'

  She showed off the gold ring on her fat finger. She was talking in riddles as far as I was concerned, but Mother was outraged.

  'I'm a respectable married woman,' she said. 'These two dear lambs happen to be my foster children.'

  'Really, my dear? Well, there's a thing! Foster children, eh? That's a fine idea. So are their real mothers dead then?'

  'No!' I said.

  Mother usually told me off when I used that tone, but she patted my shoulder now. 'They've never known their mothers. These are children from the Foundling Hospital.' She said it with her head held high, as if it was something to be proud of.

  The purple woman certainly seemed impressed. 'The Foundling Hospital, hmm? I dare say they pay you royally then. How much do you get for their keep, if you don't mind me asking?'

  Mother clearly did mind, but she murmured, 'Eighteen pence a week.'

  'For the two of them?'

  'Per child.'

  'My Lordy, that's a fortune, especially as these two are the size of sparrows, hardly likely to eat you out of house and home.'

  'I look after my children for love, not money,' said Mother. Then her voice broke. 'And now I have to take them back to the Foundling Hospital and my heart is breaking.' She started sobbing. Her arms were still stretched round us so she couldn't hide her face. She wept openly, tears dripping down her dear big face.

  The purple women seemed taken aback. 'Don't upset yourself so, dearie. I'm sure they'll be well cared for. It's not as if you're putting them in the workhouse, now, is it? They'll do very well back at the hospital, and you can always get yourself another baby or two to keep your income steady.'

  'You don't understand,' Mother sobbed. 'I didn't understand. These children seem like mine.'

  We understood, Gideon and I. She was our mother. She'd been Martha's mother too, and Saul's.

  I threw myself against her chest, winding my arms round her neck. Gideon was fairly suffocating but did not protest. We three hugged each other hard. All thoughts of Madame Adeline rode right out of my head on that white pony. At that moment I was hugging th