Dancing the Charleston Read online

  ‘Don’t hide behind me! Let Lady Somerset have a good look at you,’ said Aunty, pulling me in front of her. ‘Nearer, now. Her eyesight’s not very good.’

  She propelled me forward until my tummy was pressed against the side of the bed. Lady Somerset looked worse close up, and I couldn’t help grimacing.

  ‘You!’ she said sharply. ‘Why are you pulling a face?’

  I didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Mona!’ Aunty hissed. ‘Speak to Lady Somerset!’

  I couldn’t possibly say that I thought she looked a fright. ‘I’ve got a pain,’ I lied.

  ‘You’ve got a pain?’ said Lady Somerset. ‘I’m the one on the brink of death!’

  A teardrop suddenly rolled from her eye. I think it was simply watering – but perhaps she was crying because she didn’t want to die. It made me stop being scared of her and feel sorry instead. It must be awful knowing that you’re going to die. Had my mother known? Had she been frightened? Had she lain on her back, dishevelled and distraught like Lady Somerset?

  I found I was crying too, in sympathy.

  ‘What are you crying for?’ asked Lady Somerset.

  ‘Take the kiddy away, Flo. I knew it would be too much for her,’ Ella said.

  But Aunty kept me pinned by the bed. ‘She’s crying because she’s sorry you’re ill, your ladyship,’ she said. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, Mona?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Odd little thing,’ said Lady Somerset, but she looked rather pleased.

  ‘She’s a good girl. A dear, clever little girl, top of her class at school. A girl to be proud of,’ said Aunty. I was amazed – she never praised me like that in case it made me big-headed. I felt myself going hot with embarrassment. Lady Somerset screwed up her eyes, perhaps to focus better.

  ‘So could I have your word that we may keep the cottage, your ladyship?’ Aunty persisted.

  Lady Somerset nodded, her chin grazing her chest.

  ‘Thank you,’ Aunty breathed. ‘Thank you so much. And if you could see fit to provide for her in any way—’

  ‘Flo!’ Ella hissed, horrified.

  Lady Somerset looked over my head at Aunty. She was frowning now. Aunty’s fingers were digging into my shoulders.

  The old lady opened her mouth, ready to say something – but then she coughed. It was a bad cough and she couldn’t seem to stop, her face going an ugly red with the effort.

  Ella ran over to help her sit up. ‘You must go now!’ she said. ‘You’re upsetting her, can’t you see! I’m calling for the nurse.’

  At last Aunty loosened her grip on me and we backed away, Lady Somerset still coughing and coughing.

  ‘Oh dear Lord,’ Aunty whispered.

  The nurse came running into the room in her stockinged feet, a large slice of cherry cake still in her hand.

  ‘That’s it, lift her up higher. There now, Lady S. Take a spoonful of your medicine if you can,’ she said, dropping the cake on the floor.

  I couldn’t help staring at it, though I knew I couldn’t possibly snatch it up for myself. Lady Somerset’s coughing fit subsided and she lay back on her pillows, exhausted. Her eyes closed and she fell asleep immediately, starting to snore.

  ‘Thanks so much, Nurse,’ said Ella. ‘Sorry to drag you away from your tea break, but I was scared she was really going this time.’

  She turned and saw that we were still in the room. ‘Buzz off, Flo, and take the kiddy with you. You’ve got a cheek, I must say, asking for favours like that,’ she said. ‘Not that it’ll get you anywhere. She’s in no fit state to call for a lawyer and change her will, if that’s what you were angling for.’

  ‘She asked for me,’ said Aunty.

  ‘And I was the mug who passed the message on,’ said Ella indignantly. ‘Why couldn’t you have put in a good word for me too! I’m the one who feeds her and washes her and wipes her! What’s going to happen to me when she goes?’

  ‘I wasn’t begging favours for myself. I have to think of Mona,’ said Aunty, tight-lipped.

  ‘Well, what’s she got to do with it? Her ladyship’s barely set eyes on her, and she’s never had a soft spot for children, apart from her own boys. I’ve been here since I was scarcely older than your Mona, and I’m pretty certain she won’t be making any provision for me. What am I going to do, eh? At least you can do dressmaking till your eyes give out. Who’s going to employ me as a lady’s maid now? They’ll want a girl half my age. I haven’t any savings to speak of. Where will I go?’ Ella’s voice was getting higher and higher.

  ‘You could stay with us at the cottage until you find a place,’ Aunty said.

  ‘Oh, stop that nonsense! You’ll be turned out quick as a wink when Lady Somerset dies. We’re all in the soup, Flo – you and the kiddy, me, old Mr Marchant, the other maids, even the gardeners. Likely they’ll have a clean sweep and bring in their own staff,’ said Ella.

  ‘Then we’ll all keep each other company in the workhouse,’ Aunty snapped, and she dragged me down the stairs, along the corridors, past Mr Marchant and out of the back door.

  We hurried through the grounds at such a pace I could hardly keep up. ‘Slow down, Aunty, I’ve got a stitch!’ I panted.

  ‘I’ve got a lot to do,’ she said, pulling me into the cottage and then bolting the door behind us, as if she thought the bailiffs were coming any minute. ‘You put the kettle on to boil and bring a cup of strong tea to my workroom. I’ve got a marathon task ahead.’

  I did as I was told. I cut us both a slice of bread and jam too. It didn’t look as if there was going to be any proper supper. I divided Aunty’s portion into tiny bitesized chunks. When I took them in, she was crouching over her big chest of materials, dragging out a roll of white and gold brocade!

  ‘You’ve got the right stuff already, Aunty!’ I gasped.

  ‘Of course I have. I thought of it the moment she said the word robe. It’s curtain material, and it weighs a ton, but she won’t be walking around in it, will she? It’ll be a bally nuisance lining it with silk, but I’ll manage,’ she said, heaving the bolt onto her cutting table. ‘Watch where you put that tea, Mona!’

  ‘There’s bread and jam too, Aunty. I’ve cut yours into little pieces. I could pop one into your mouth every now and then so you don’t get jam on the material,’ I suggested.

  ‘Thank you, dear,’ she said. ‘Very thoughtful.’

  She spread out the brocade and then fetched her big, sharp cutting scissors. After trying to engrave the headstone for Mother I’d been forbidden to touch them. Aunty said if she ever caught me with them again she’d cut off my fingers with the sharpened blades. I knew she wouldn’t really, but I still kept well away from the scissors, and their crick-crick cutting noise made me shiver.

  ‘Aunty?’ I said, tucking my hands into my armpits. ‘Aren’t you and Ella friends any more?’

  ‘Oh, I dare say we are. She’s just worried, that’s all,’ she replied.

  ‘Will we all end up in the workhouse?’ I asked. I hated even saying the word. It was a terrible building at the end of Rook Green. I always ran past it. The windows were so high up I couldn’t see inside, but once I heard a terrible scream, long and loud and utterly despairing. It echoed in my head for weeks afterwards.

  ‘We’re not ending up in the blooming workhouse,’ said Aunty. She usually spoke like a genteel lady, but now her voice sounded much harsher. ‘Lady Somerset will be so pleased with her robe that she’ll see us right, you mark my words.’ Her knuckles were white as she cut into the brocade.

  Ella came bursting through our door, red and breathless with running.

  3

  Aunty was still in her workroom when I woke up in the morning. She looked grey, and behind her glasses her eyelids kept twitching, but her hands didn’t pause: stitch-stitch-stitch.

  ‘Have you been up all night, Aunty?’ I asked.

  ‘No, I went to sleep, and the needle and thread stitched all by themselves,’ she said.

  ‘Hadn’t