Dancing the Charleston Read online

  It couldn’t be true. Maybe it was all a terrible dream … I tried opening my eyes as wide as I could, wanting to wake up into my own old life, with Mother safe in her grassy bed under the yew tree and Aunty sewing in her workroom.

  Families were jostling their way towards the exit, keen to get the children home before bedtime. So many families, all with a mother and a father, and they seemed to be staring at me, pointing, sneering, holding their noses in disgust like Cedric.

  I was desperate to get away. I tried pushing through the crowd, and bumped into a child, nearly knocking it over. The father seized hold of me and shouted, his face red and angry. I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying and only cried harder.

  He let me go, and I staggered into a little clump of bushes and sank down, hiding from everyone, my head in my hands.

  ‘Hey there, what’s the matter?’ Someone was scrabbling their way through the bushes after me.

  I tried to get up and toppled over.

  ‘I should just sit still and have a good cry, dear.’ It was a woman’s voice. She sounded soft and warm, like Mother – which made me sob even more.

  ‘There now,’ she said, and she settled herself down beside me, patting my back as if I was her child.

  I cried and cried, until at last the sobs slowed down. I sniffed hard and tried to wipe my face.

  ‘Here.’ The woman handed me a handkerchief and I mopped my face.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, my voice croaky. ‘Why did you come after me?’

  ‘Because you looked pretty desperate. I know how that feels,’ she told me.

  I looked at her, blinking through my tears. She was small and thin and quite old, but her hair was bright red, and her blue eyes were beautiful.

  ‘Sometimes it helps to have a really good cry,’ she said. ‘But sometimes it makes no difference. You cry and cry, and nothing changes, and you’ve just given yourself a splitting headache on top of all your woes.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, sniffling.

  ‘You haven’t hurt yourself, have you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It’s just hurting inside?’

  I nodded.

  ‘That’s the worst sort of hurt,’ she said. ‘What’s your name, my love?’

  ‘Mona.’

  ‘Pretty.’ She peered at me. ‘You came to have a peep at me, didn’t you? You were with that snooty miss with the bobbed hair. I stuck my tongue out at her.’

  I stared at her. ‘Oh my goodness, you’re Queen Elizabeth!’ I gasped. She looked so different in her short green dress and jacket, cut in the latest fashion.

  ‘Yes, I am, and it’s the worst job in the world, standing still like that for hour after hour, with only ten-minute breaks. When will I ever learn? I once had a job as a mermaid in a seaside carnival, and that was bad enough, but at least I was lying down.’

  ‘I dressed up as a mermaid for a ball! So did Esmeralda, but she looked much better than me. She’s the snooty miss,’ I said.

  ‘Is she a friend or a sister?’

  ‘Neither, really.’

  ‘Won’t she be wondering where you’ve got to?’

  ‘She won’t care. She doesn’t like me much,’ I said, my voice wobbling. ‘So if you’re here, are there only nine beauties left?’

  ‘My friend Diamond’s doing the evening shift – I’m meeting someone in the West End. She is a diamond too: she’s blonde and has to wear a red wig – it must make her itch like crazy in that hot glass cage. The ruff makes you itch too. I come out in a rash and have to powder my neck to disguise it.’

  ‘I’m sorry I’m holding you up,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, never mind. He can wait. I’m not sure I should be meeting him anyway. You’d think I’d know better at my age. I’m not lucky in love. Sometimes I think I’ve made all the wrong choices. Maybe I should have followed Queen Elizabeth’s example and kept men at bay. Still, she had a good career. It must be grand work being Queen.’ She chuckled.

  ‘Have you always worked as a model then?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ve done all sorts. I was actually on the stage at one time. You’re too young to have heard of me, but I was quite famous once. But then age caught up with me and the parts fizzled out. Perhaps I’ll be in demand again soon. A casting director will ponder, Now, who would be perfect to play the part of an ancient old crone? I know, send for Emerald Star!’

  ‘Is that your name? It’s beautiful,’ I said.

  ‘Well, I chose it carefully. I’ve had several names in my time. My friends call me Hetty Feather, my foundling name.’ She shrugged. ‘I think it’s pretty hideous, but I’m stuck with it now.’ She rummaged in her bag and found a tin of fruit drops. ‘Here, have a sweetie, Mona. My throat always hurts when I’ve been crying.’

  I took one gratefully. ‘What do you mean, your foundling name?’

  ‘Mama couldn’t keep me, so she was forced to put me in the Foundling Hospital. It was a horrible place, with the meanest matron in the world. We were brought up very strictly, and trained to be servant girls. Never be a servant, dear, it’s a dog’s life. Get yourself a good education if you possibly can,’ Hetty said, taking a fruit drop and sucking it with gusto.

  ‘I’m going to a girls’ high school in September,’ I told her.

  ‘Well, good for you! I knew you were a bright girl. Are you looking forward to it?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ I said. I hugged my knees. ‘Only everything’s turned upside down now.’ I swallowed hard to stop myself crying and nearly choked on my fruit drop.

  ‘Goodness, choke up, chicken,’ said Hetty, thumping me on the back. ‘So what’s gone wrong then?’

  ‘I’ve been brought up by my aunt. It’s always been just Aunty and me. She’s a dressmaker,’ I said, wiping my eyes again.

  ‘Ah, I’m not surprised. I’ve been admiring your pretty frock, dear. I’ve always made my own clothes, and I like to think I cut quite a dash, but I haven’t got that professional touch.’ She picked up the hem of my dress and clucked appreciatively. ‘Such tiny even stitches! She’s a brilliant dressmaker, your aunt.’

  ‘But I’ve just found out that she’s not really my aunt. All these years she’s been lying to me. She told me that my mother died when I was born, but now they tell me that she’s my mother,’ I said in a rush.

  ‘Who’s “they”? The snooty girl with the bob?’

  ‘Yes, her, and her cousin. Cedric said my aunty was a hussy and it was disgusting. He said I was disgusting, and held his nose as if I smelled,’ I said, shuddering.

  ‘Well, he sounds a right charmer. Do you think he’s telling the truth?’ Hetty asked, putting her arm round me.

  ‘Roland said it was true, and I know he wouldn’t lie,’ I said. ‘I never thought Aunty would lie. She was always so cross with me if I told the tiniest fib, but now I find out that she’s been lying all along. She’s a hateful hypocrite,’ I muttered.

  ‘Hey, hey, don’t be so fierce,’ said Hetty, and she gave me a little shake. ‘Why do you think she’s been lying all this time?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Of course you do! It was to protect you. Some folk can be very mean to children whose parents aren’t married. I should know. All us children in the Foundling Hospital had unwed mothers, and it was considered shameful. People pointed and sneered at us whenever we were allowed outside. Your mother didn’t want that to happen to you. She obviously wanted you brought up respectable. So she told a harmless little lie.’

  ‘It was a big, big, big lie,’ I insisted.

  ‘So she could keep you and bring you up herself. Don’t look so sorry for yourself, you silly girl. I’d give anything to have been brought up by my mother. For years and years I didn’t know who she was – and then I lost her, the person I loved most in the world.’ She shook her head. ‘You’ll have me in tears soon.’

  ‘But Aunty’s not a bit like a real mother. I was so sure I knew what Mother was like. I used to go and talk to her in the graveyard, and she talk