Little Stars Read online

  Another foster sister in another flouncy dress started boasting about the dainty food she had, talking like some lady of the manor. This was Nora, who for all her fancy airs and graces was merely a lady’s maid. She spoke in an affected voice, and when she was persuaded to try a morsel of malt loaf, she ate it with her little finger sticking out in a ridiculous fashion.

  I tried chatting to her, but she practically ignored me, though she did look a little enviously at my primrose dress, knowing more about high fashion than Eliza. I went back to the table for another piece of malt bread, elbowing the children out of my way. (I had learned to elbow very effectively at the hospital!)

  I heard Nora hiss to Eliza, ‘Why is she invited to Jem’s wedding? She was only one of the foundling babies, wasn’t she?’

  ‘I know, but she stayed on after Father’s funeral and wheedled her way into everyone’s hearts,’ Eliza replied.

  ‘Like him,’ said Nora.

  They both sniffed.

  ‘Mother dotes on him now.’

  ‘He’s totally taken over.’

  ‘She thinks more of him than her own kin. Goodness knows why! I mean, look at him. And he’s always seemed a bit simple to me.’

  They were sneering at Gideon! How dare they talk about my brother like that! He had devoted his life to Mother. I didn’t give a fig what they thought of me, but their unkind words about Gideon burned my ears like a branding iron.

  I had to run upstairs to see Mother to stop myself punching both my sisters in their smug silly faces. Bess was combing her hair into a neat bun, while Rosie held up a looking glass so Mother could see and approve. Bess looked the same as ever, but Rosie had grown enormous. It took me a second or two to realize that she was heavily with child. Mother had her back to me, but she must have glimpsed me in the looking glass.

  ‘Het-ty!’ she said. She slurred the word a little, but it was still clear.

  ‘No, Mother, she lives too far away now. I don’t think Hetty will be able to come to the wedding,’ said Rosie, rubbing her back.

  ‘Yes I can!’ I said.

  ‘Oh Lordy, you startled me! My goodness, Hetty, you’re quite the young lady now,’ said Rosie.

  ‘There, Mother, you were right,’ said Bess, amused. ‘You knew who Hetty was, didn’t you?’

  ‘Of course Mother knows me!’ I said, rushing forward and giving Mother a big hug.

  ‘Careful with her! You’ll make her topple!’ said Bess, though Mother’s large behind seemed firmly anchored.

  She was looking so much better! Her mouth was still twisted sideways, but her eyes were bright, and she even managed to lift her arms to return my hug.

  ‘Het-ty, Het-ty, Het-ty,’ she said. She took hold of a lock of my hair, which was already tumbling down. ‘Bright red. My bright girl!’

  ‘No, Mother, Hetty’s not one of your own girls. She was one of the foundlings.’ Rosie patted her huge stomach. ‘Imagine giving up your own baby. I don’t know how they can do it.’

  I felt as if she kicked me in my own stomach. ‘They don’t have any choice!’ I snapped. I patted Mother’s hand. ‘You look lovely, Mother. This must be a very big day for you.’

  ‘Jem,’ said Mother.

  ‘Yes, our dear Jem’s getting married.’

  Rosie and Bess bristled at my pronoun.

  ‘Where is Jem anyway?’ I asked.

  ‘He’s downstairs,’ said Bess.

  ‘No he’s not!’

  ‘Well, I saw him ten minutes ago, all got up in his wedding gear,’ said Rosie. ‘He was fiddling around with Mother’s chair because one of the wheels has started wobbling.’

  I ducked down the stairs again, noticing that someone had put a rail on either side of the stairwell to make it easier for Mother to be helped up and down. I found her chair in the corner of the living room, all the wheels intact – but no Jem.

  ‘Where’s Jem, Gid?’ I asked as he poured lemonade for the children.

  ‘I think he went outside to smoke his pipe,’ he replied.

  ‘He’ll be a bit on edge,’ said Frank. ‘And no wonder! It’s a big day in a man’s life. A turning point. Maybe he’s having second thoughts!’

  ‘Nonsense!’ said Eliza.

  ‘Just a joke, dear, just a little joke,’ he said quickly.

  I went outside, taking my suitcase with me. I didn’t want any of those unruly children peering inside. I looked up and down the lane. There was no sign of Jem. I walked round to the back of the cottage. No Jem again, but I found a new pig rootling in its pen. I scratched its back, remembering the pigs of my little girlhood. I had loved them all and wept bitterly every time one had to be slaughtered, though it didn’t prevent me from enjoying the bacon and ham.

  So where on earth had Jem got to? I went back to the front and walked along the dusty lane into the main village as far as the church. There were flowers in the porch, white roses and honeysuckle, their scent almost overpowering. I glanced inside, peering in the sudden gloom. A couple of families were sitting in the pews much too early, determined to get good seats for the wedding, but no Jem.

  Had he gone to Janet’s house? Wasn’t it supposed to be bad luck for the groom to see his bride before she arrived at the church? All the same, I walked along to the Maples’ house. There were trestle tables in the garden spread with white linen, with bowls of white roses in the middle, and place settings for the wedding breakfast. I knocked at the door and Mr Maple answered, still in his shirt sleeves, moving stiffly as if worried the sharp creases in his new trousers would concertina.

  ‘Hello, Mr Maple! Remember me? I’m Hetty. I once stayed with you,’ I said.

  ‘How could anyone forget you, Hetty,’ he said, smiling at me. ‘I expect you’ve come to wish Janet luck. She’s upstairs with her mother.’

  I couldn’t very well say I’d just popped by to see if Jem were there. I ran upstairs, marvelling at the quiet elegance of the house. I wondered if Janet would mind moving to a tumbledown cottage. She’d probably be happy living in a pigsty so long as it was with Jem. I remembered reading her diary and seeing just how passionately she loved him.

  I heard girls’ voices and knocked shyly on the bedroom door.

  ‘Come in!’ called Mrs Maple.

  I peered round the door. There was Janet standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by girls in pale yellow dresses, and her mother in a deep daffodil gown. Janet looked incredible. I’d always thought her rather plain, though I loved her gentle face and rounded figure and long fair plait – but now she looked serenely beautiful in her long white lace gown. She had white rosebuds woven into her hair and wore a simple pearl necklace.

  ‘Hetty!’ she cried, and held out her arms.

  I embraced her carefully, worried about treading on her gown or disarranging her hair, but she gave me a big hug.

  ‘Oh, Hetty, I’m so very glad you could come! And look, you’re dressed in yellow too, just like my bridesmaids. You’ll have to join in as we walk down the aisle!’ she cried. She introduced me to each of them – two vaguely familiar girls from the village and two little girls she’d taught in school.

  ‘You look a picture, Janet,’ I said, almost in awe of her.

  ‘So do you, Hetty. Your dress is beautiful. I wonder if you made it yourself? You became so nimble with a needle.’

  ‘My dressmaking friend made it for me,’ I said.

  ‘Ah yes, Jem said you had joined up with another lady in a gown shop. It sounds like a wonderful opportunity.’

  So Jem hadn’t even told Janet about my music-hall success!

  ‘Jem must be so happy to see you here for our big day.’ There was no edge to Janet’s voice at all. She was such a sweet lovely girl.

  ‘Well, I’m truly happy for both of you,’ I said. I hesitated. ‘I haven’t seen Jem yet, actually.’

  ‘He’s probably been shining his new shoes again and has got polish all over his shirt!’ said Janet. ‘You know what he’s like.’

  ‘Why don’t you ru