Opal Plumstead Read online

  ‘For goodness’ sake, give me a chance to speak! Yes. Yes, yes, yes!’

  ‘Yes, you like him? And you think he likes me?’

  ‘Yes to everything. I can see why you’re so charmed.’

  ‘Oh, Opie, I’m so happy. I wish he had a younger brother just for you, and then you could be happy too.’

  ‘I’m happy as I am,’ I said, not quite truthfully. ‘And I’d never ever be able to fib to Mother so fluently. I don’t know how you do it. Have you got today’s story all prepared?’

  ‘Oh, that’s easy enough. I just open my mouth and a great long story tumbles out,’ said Cassie. ‘You wait and see.’

  ‘Had we better separate? Mother will wonder why we’re together,’ I suggested.

  ‘No, no, we’ll say we simply met up by chance on the way home,’ said Cassie.

  We got to the front door and let ourselves in.

  ‘Hello, Mother,’ Cassie called cheerily. There was no reply, just a strange silence. Yet we could hear a series of thumps in the kitchen. We went in, and there was Mother ironing, her face as hard and steely as the iron itself.

  ‘Hello, Mother,’ Cassie repeated. ‘Have all the shop girls’ babies gone home? Oh dear, you do look tired. Sit down, and we’ll finish the ironing off for you, won’t we, Opie.’

  ‘Where have you been?’ said Mother, ironing hard.

  ‘Why, you know where we’ve been. I’ve been at Madame Alouette’s and Opie’s been to one of those boring old meetings,’ Cassie said. ‘Here, Mother.’ She took off her hat and coat and went to take the iron, but Mother clung onto it.

  ‘Get away from me,’ she said.

  ‘Mother, whatever’s the matter?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ve got a liar for a daughter, that’s what’s the matter.’ She thumped the table so hard it actually shook.

  ‘Do calm down, Mother, you’re getting in such a state. What’s upset you?’ Cassie was trying to sound casual, but she looked frightened now. I clutched her hand.

  ‘I had a visitor this afternoon,’ said Mother. ‘Madame Alouette.’

  I felt Cassie’s hand tighten on mine.

  ‘She came round specially, because she was worried about you, Cassie. It seems you had a bad toothache. She brought you a bottle of oil of cloves to soothe it. Wasn’t that kind, taking time away from the shop specially? I thanked her for all her past kindness, the many days you’ve spent at her house with her nephew Philip. It turns out that she can’t remember any visits whatsoever – and Philip himself is back in Paris continuing his studies.’

  ‘Oh Lord,’ Cassie murmured.

  ‘So would you mind telling me exactly where you’ve been, madam? And you’re clearly in on this whole deception too, Opal. How could you two girls let me down so badly?’

  ‘Opal hasn’t deceived you. She’s just been going to her suffragette meetings – until today. It’s all me. But I told you all those tales because I didn’t want to worry you, Mother. I’ll tell you the truth now. I have been seeing a wonderful gentleman called Mr Daniel Evandale.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you make up this nonsense about Madame Alouette’s nephew? What’s wrong with this gentleman that you had to keep him such a deadly secret?’

  ‘I didn’t, Mother. I told you all about him the very day I met him. He came into the shop and ordered a fancy hat and I modelled all our latest designs for him. Don’t you remember my telling you?’

  ‘But that was a much older man!’

  ‘He’s not a callow youth. He is a cultured gentleman in his prime.’

  ‘What does he do for a living?’

  ‘He’s an artist,’ Cassie said proudly.

  ‘An artist!’ Mother exclaimed, thumping the iron down fiercely, as if she wished to brand Cassie’s gentleman with it. ‘An artist. Oh, Cassie, when will you learn? Of all the disreputable professions! He’ll have you modelling for him next.’ She saw Cassie’s face and gave an anguished moan. ‘How could you sink so low? I suppose you took your clothes off too!’

  ‘Yes I did,’ said Cassie. ‘Daniel’s painted several portraits of me, and they’re all beautiful and may well be displayed in the Royal Academy. I’m so proud, Mother. Daniel is a fine artist. I know he’ll be truly famous one day and I shall be too, as his muse.’

  ‘As his muse!’ Mother spat, as if it were a filthy word. ‘Now listen to me, Cassie Plumstead. You are never to see that man again. I’m not going to let you out of my sight on Sundays. You’ll stay home with me and help with the chores. And on Monday you’ll go to Madame Alouette’s and beg her forgiveness for all the ludicrous stories you’ve been telling, though I’m not sure she’ll keep you on at the shop. She’s truly shocked by your deception.’

  ‘I don’t care if she doesn’t want me to stay on. I’m tired of working there anyway. Why should I waste my time sitting with a lot of silly girls making hats for other women all day long? I don’t even earn anything yet. Daniel’s painter friends are all keen for me to model for them and they’ll pay handsomely!’ Cassie shouted. ‘You can’t stop me seeing Daniel, Mother. I love him.’

  ‘What do you know about love?’

  ‘I think I know more about love than you do,’ said Cassie, her head held high. ‘Who are you to preach at me anyway? You ran off with Father when you were my age, or near enough.’

  ‘And look at me now. Look what it’s reduced me to,’ said Mother bitterly. ‘Shame and penury.’

  ‘Well, I hope to avoid both. Because Daniel is wealthy and I am proud to be seen with him.’

  ‘I’m warning you, if you see him even one more time, you’ll not set foot in this house again,’ said Mother.

  ‘Very well. I shall pack my belongings now,’ said Cassie, and she picked up her skirts and walked upstairs.

  Mother clasped the handle of the iron, suddenly helpless. She looked at me. ‘Can’t you stop her, Opal?’

  I ran up the stairs after Cassie. I thought she might be bluffing, but she was calmly and methodically going through her chest of drawers, selecting her best nightgown, her set of underwear embroidered with little violets, her new stockings, her velvet bag of hair ribbons, packing them all into the big carpet bag. We never went away so we’d always used it as a storage bag. Cassie and I had kept our dressing-up clothes in it when we were little. I saw a discarded heap of tattered costumes on the floor – the ‘princess’ rose-pink dress we’d always fought over, the white ‘ghost’ gown that had once been Mother’s wedding veil, the dark green velvet skirt that had been our mermaid outfit.

  ‘You’re not really packing your things, are you, Cassie?’ I asked stupidly, because it was plain she was doing just that.

  ‘I don’t have any option, do I?’ Cassie went to her wardrobe and rifled through her clothes. ‘You can have most of these, Opie. I haven’t got room to take them, and I’m tired of them anyway. I’ve got my green dress and I’ll take my black costume with the pink blouse. I’ll leave my cream one for you – and you can certainly keep the old elephant.’

  ‘Mother isn’t serious, I’m sure she isn’t. She can’t stop you seeing Mr Evandale. You could pretend you were somewhere else anyway.’

  ‘I’m tired of pretending. I’m going to live with Daniel.’

  ‘But – but what will he say?’

  ‘He’ll be jolly pleased,’ said Cassie, but she suddenly stopped looking so frighteningly grown up. She sat down on her bed and started biting her thumbnail. ‘He will be pleased,’ she insisted, as if I were arguing with her. ‘You see how he is with me. He’s wild about me.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll marry you?’

  Cassie nibbled at her thumb. ‘I think he’s still married to his first wife, though he left her long ago.’

  ‘Oh, Cassie! What if he leaves you?’

  ‘He won’t. But if he does, I shall just have to fend for myself. His friends really do want me to model for them, you know. And when I get too old and fat for modelling, I shall start up my own hat shop. I bet I make a better