Little Stars Read online

  Diamond sat up and laughed delightedly.

  ‘Here I go!’ I shouted, and ‘galloped’ round and round the little room, jumping over my discarded boots. I patted the mop head and cried ‘Hup hup hup!’, making the mop rear up in the air as if it were standing on its back legs.

  Diamond clapped and cheered, and I took a bow and made the mop bow too, and then accept a pretend sugar lump from Diamond’s proffered hand.

  ‘There now,’ I said in my own voice. ‘Show’s over for today – but Madame Adeline will come back tonight if you’re very good. Let’s get your hands and face washed, you’re all sticky sugar. Good Lord, you’ve even got it in your hair. Watch out – people will mistake you for a stick of spun sugar and gollop you up before you know it.’

  It was easy enough to jolly her back into a good mood, and she was very keen to scrub herself clean and brush her hair and put on her newly washed and ironed pinafore because she wanted to impress Bertie. I rather wanted to do likewise. I wished I had more clothes. My dress was looking so tired and limp.

  My only other outfit was my red riding jacket and breeches, and they were of no use to me now. I might as well throw them away. I couldn’t wear my wonderful glossy riding boots with frocks, but I was determined to keep them for ever, even if I never wore them again. Madame Adeline had given them to me and so they were doubly precious. I wished I still had the green dress I’d made out of curtains and gold braid. I had loved that dress so much – and Bertie had admired it too. But I’d had to cut it up to turn it into the mermaid’s costume. Thank goodness I need never wear that again!

  I put my grey sprigged dress on again and sighed at myself in the looking glass. ‘It looks so plain,’ I said. ‘I look so plain.’

  I felt worse when I saw Miss Gibson. She still wore her usual black satin, but with a different black jacket, cut like a blazer with very dashing red stripes.

  ‘Oh, Miss Gibson, you look a picture,’ I said. ‘I love the jacket!’

  ‘You don’t think it’s too bold a look, do you?’ she asked anxiously. ‘I’ve had it years, but scarcely had the courage to wear it. Still, I do think a picnic is the perfect occasion for a blazer.’

  ‘Absolutely. I wish I had one.’

  ‘Then perhaps you’d like to borrow one of mine,’ Miss Gibson offered generously.

  I hesitated. I didn’t like to point out that all her jackets would be vastly too big for me.

  ‘I’ve got a sample somewhere,’ she said. ‘I made it for a schoolgirl daughter of one of my clients, but for some reason it didn’t suit. Aha!’ She brought out a dashing green blazer with a silver-grey stripe. ‘Try it on, Hetty.’

  It looked wonderful. The green contrasted with my red hair, and the silvery stripe toned with the grey of my dress. It made all the difference in the world!

  ‘Thank you so much, Miss Gibson!’ I said.

  ‘You look lovely, Hetty,’ said Diamond. She sounded a little wistful.

  ‘Oh dear, I don’t think I’ve got any jackets small enough for you,’ said Miss Gibson. ‘But I know what will look very pretty in your hair.’ She rummaged in one of the long drawers in her cabinet and came out with a handful of satin ribbons. ‘Which would you like, Diamond? You choose.’

  Diamond looked at them all solemnly. She hesitated over a tartan ribbon, stroked a pink one with rosebud embroidery, but then picked out a shining sky-blue satin one. ‘They’re all beautiful, but I think I will choose the blue one. It will go with my dress perfectly,’ she said, like a little fashion-conscious lady.

  ‘It will go with your eyes too,’ I said, tying it for her.

  ‘My pa once gave me a blue ribbon,’ she said unexpectedly. ‘That was when I was his pet. But then he stopped liking me.’

  ‘Well, I’ll always, always, always like you, Diamond,’ I said quickly.

  ‘And I will too,’ said Miss Gibson.

  ‘Will Bertie always like me?’ Diamond asked.

  ‘Of course he will, silly,’ I said.

  Bertie certainly made a huge fuss of Diamond, picking her up and cradling her as if she really were a little doll. ‘How’s my little sweetheart, then? All ready to come on a picnic with Bertie? My, don’t you look a picture. Good enough to eat. We’ll be hard pressed to choose at the picnic – a slice of pie or a slice of scrumptious Diamond!’

  ‘I’ve made you a special pie, Bertie. A really juicy one,’ she said.

  ‘Aren’t I the lucky one! And I’ll provide a juicy plate of meat fit for a little princess,’ he said. There was a big canvas bag over his shoulder, with the handle of a black frying pan sticking out.

  ‘You’re going to cook?’ I exclaimed.

  ‘That’s the general idea. Unless you’d like your meat raw. I must say, you two ladies are a sight for sore eyes too. You look splendid in those stripes, Miss Gibson. And you look quite the ticket too, Miss Hetty. That’s a very saucy jacket.’

  ‘And you’re a very saucy boy, Mr Bertie,’ I said. He’d made an effort with his own appearance, wearing his stage straw boater and blazer and white flannels. His newly-washed hair was as fluffy as a dandelion clock, and his fingernails were clipped and clean. He used to wear far too much pomade to disguise the stink of meat, but now he just smelled pleasantly of soap. I was touched that he’d made such an effort.

  I was worried too. Here we were, the four of us, all dressed up like dogs’ dinners, with elaborate bags and boxes of food, setting off expectantly, as if we were about to step onto a magic carpet and picnic in an Arabian palace garden, with fountains flowing and servants proffering silver trays of exotic delicacies. We were probably going to some dismal municipal park where we’d squat uncomfortably and spill our picnic all down our finery.

  ‘Where exactly are we going, Bertie?’ I asked.

  ‘Aha! This is a special mystery trip. Have faith, little feathery one. I’m taking us somewhere special,’ said Bertie.

  ‘This way, ladies,’ he instructed when we got to the end of the road.

  There were shops and then houses as far as the eye could see. I peered hard, but couldn’t see a patch of green anywhere. I looked doubtfully at Miss Gibson’s tight little boots. They’d have to work very hard to support the rest of her.

  ‘I don’t think we can walk terribly far,’ I murmured.

  ‘We’re not walking all the way,’ Bertie told me. ‘I’ve laid on my own select charabanc to transport us.’

  For a moment I thought he’d actually hired his own carriage, but then I spotted the bus stop a few yards away.

  Bertie looked at his pocket watch. ‘It should be here any minute,’ he said cheerily.

  He must have consulted the omnibus timetables, because within seconds we saw the vehicle at the end of the street. Bertie had a pocketful of change and paid for all of us. We sat upstairs, the wind blowing in our hair as the omnibus gathered pace. I had to tie Diamond’s blue ribbon extra tightly, and Bertie had to cram his boater down on his head to stop it sailing away.

  ‘Oh, this is such fun! I’ve never been on an omnibus before!’ said Diamond, her cheeks pink.

  ‘You’re so sweet, Diamond,’ I said – though I’d only been on a bus a handful of times myself and found it equally exciting to bowl along looking into people’s top windows and peering down into their gardens.

  Then the houses gradually petered out and we were in the countryside. At first I thought we might be going back to the little market town where I’d first seen the Cavalcade poster, but I didn’t recognize the route. We must be going in the opposite direction. Soon there were woods on either side of us, and high hills far away.

  ‘I came this way on a Sunday school picnic long ago when I was a little girl,’ said Miss Gibson. Her cheeks were pink too, her ringlets escaping their rigid curl. ‘Bertie, might you be taking us to Ledbury Hill?’

  ‘There, you’ve spoiled my little surprise, Miss G!’

  ‘But it’s the most tremendous surprise! I’ve wanted to go back there all these years, and yet so