Dancing the Charleston Read online

  ‘Oh, Aunty!’ I said, and I threw myself at her and hugged her hard.

  ‘Careful, Mona! You’ll have us both over!’ she said. ‘What’s all this about, eh?’

  ‘I was so worried! I didn’t know where you were,’ I wailed. ‘Don’t be so silly! I was up at the manor, delivering Lady Somerset’s robe, of course. I promised I’d finish it in twenty-four hours, and I have! I thought I’d be back before you got home from school, but you’re early today.’

  ‘I didn’t stop at Maggie’s. I wanted to get back,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry I banged out of the cottage this morning and didn’t even say goodbye, Aunty!’

  ‘Well, I dare say I was a bit snappy with you. I was pretty exhausted. Still am! I think I’ll go to bed as soon as we’ve had a bite to eat,’ she said, sitting down at the table. ‘You’ve made a pot of tea. That was thoughtful, dear. And such pretty flowers too.’

  ‘I could start supper too. Is it vegetable stew or jacket potatoes?’ I asked, glowing.

  ‘Neither!’ said Aunty. ‘Look!’ She unwrapped the paper parcel. There was a loaf of bread, a slab of butter keeping cool in a dock leaf, a big wedge of cheese, two thick slices of pink ham, half an apple tart and two ginger parkins!

  ‘It’s a feast!’ I said, round-eyed.

  ‘It is indeed. Lady Somerset rallied a little when she saw the robe. She liked it, Mona! She said it was the best gown I’d ever made for her – and for once she realized how hard I’d worked. She told Ella to take me downstairs and make sure Cook gave me a hearty meal because I’d earned it. So I asked if I could take it home with me instead, and no one minded. She paid royally for the gown too – and she said she’d make sure we stayed here in the cottage for as long as we wished. Oh, Mona!’ Aunty’s sore eyes were brimming with tears now. ‘The relief!’

  I fetched some plates and we started our feast, washing it down with cups of tea.

  ‘This is the best meal ever!’ I said. ‘And you’re the best aunty.’

  She tutted and told me not to be such a soppy ha’p’orth, but I think she was pleased. She didn’t eat very much – just a sliver of ham, a slice of bread and half a parkin, but she let me tuck in until my stomach was gloriously full. There was still a big spread left for tomorrow, which I tidied away in the pantry.

  Then I massaged the cramps out of Aunty’s aching hands, and did my best to ease her shoulders too. Her head was nodding already, and she went to bed telling me I was a good girl. I went to bed too, and read The Story of the Treasure Seekers from start to finish. I’d borrowed it from Old Molly’s penny lending library, though I’d read it twice already. Old Molly didn’t charge me because I kept the books in order and counted up everyone else’s pennies and recorded the borrowings in her red account book.

  The Story of the Treasure Seekers was one of my favourites. I loved the part where Oswald explains that his mother is dead, and they all miss her terribly though they don’t often mention it. I loved it when the children tried to make their fortune too. Sadly none of them seemed at all sensible, and they were forever getting into scrapes. Albert-next-door’s uncle had to keep coming to the rescue.

  We didn’t have a next door, and I wouldn’t have wanted an Albert for a friend, but I’d have dearly loved his uncle. Uncles seemed far more jolly than aunties. I’d once asked Aunty if she’d never wanted to get married, and she said it wasn’t the sort of question you should ever ask a lady. I suppose that meant she’d have liked to, but no one had asked her. I tried to imagine her with a husband and a handful of children like Mrs Higgins, but it was impossible.

  If Mother hadn’t died and Father had come back from the war, I wondered if they would have had more children. I wished I had a sister or a brother. I was very good at imagining, and I was rarely bored so long as I had a book to read, but I often felt lonely.

  I was feeling lonely now. I was starting to picture Lady Somerset lying on her back in the manor, gasping for breath all night long, with death creeping nearer and nearer. I longed to have a sister to cuddle. If she woke up in the middle of the night with a pain, Maggie would slip into bed with her mother and father. I couldn’t imagine getting into bed with Aunty. She was always so private. She didn’t like me seeing her in her nightgown, with her hair plaited and her teeth missing, and she was so thin and bony she wouldn’t have been very comfortable to cuddle anyway.

  I didn’t fall asleep until two or three in the morning. Aunty shook me awake at eight, and gave me a ham sandwich for my breakfast, which was delicious. She put a ginger parkin wrapped in paper in my school bag.

  ‘You can share it with Maggie. I know Mrs Higgins is always giving you bites, so now we’ve a chance to give her Maggie a little treat,’ she said.

  At break time Peter Robinson wanted me to play Kiss Chase again, but I sat demurely with Maggie, and we shared our parkin, nibbling it in turns so that it lasted a long time.

  ‘Oh my, don’t it taste good!’ said Maggie, licking the crumbs off her fingers. ‘Sometimes Mum makes ginger cake for a special treat, but it’s not as good as this. Did your aunty make it?’

  ‘No, Aunty never has time for baking. They were from the manor,’ I said. ‘They’ve got a special cook.’

  ‘How I’d like to be the lady of the manor!’ said Maggie. ‘I’d have parkin for breakfast, parkin for dinner, parkin for tea, nothing but parkin.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want to be Lady Somerset – she’s past eating anything,’ I said.

  ‘So who will be the new Lady Somerset?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘There won’t be another Lady Somerset – she only had the title because of Sir William,’ I told her. Aunty had filled me in on all the details. ‘Roland will probably inherit as his father was the eldest son, but of course he’s not much older than us. Maybe he’ll come and live at the manor, with Barbara looking after him.’

  ‘I lose track of them all. Which one’s Barbara?’

  ‘You know – the loopy lady with the funny clothes and the long fair hair,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, that one. Well, it won’t be her – Mr Frederick’s dead now. I bet it’ll be the boot-faced one who gets the manor. Mr George’s wife. Do you think she’ll want your aunty making her clothes?’

  ‘Aunty says she gets her clothes made in London,’ I said.

  ‘Then your aunty better find herself some new customers quick,’ said Maggie.

  Where could she find them? I wondered. No one in Rook Green needed fine clothes, and they couldn’t afford them anyway.

  I clasped my hands round my knees and held on tight, trying to think what she could do. Maybe I could help out with my own job? Old Molly was getting more and more in a muddle, and she was so stooped she couldn’t reach the top shelves. Perhaps she could take me on part time and pay me a proper wage. Then, when Old Molly got even older, I could take over the shop. But I didn’t really want to become Old Mona. What else could I do when I was grown up? I definitely didn’t want to be a dressmaker like Aunty.

  ‘Maggie, what do you want to be when you’re grown up?’ I asked.

  ‘I told you, I want to be the lady of the manor and eat lots of parkin. Come on, Miss Nelson’s ringing the bell,’ she said, searching for one last crumb in the paper.

  ‘No, really,’ I said.

  Maggie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I don’t want to be a dairymaid like our Mabel – she gets cow dung all over her shoes. I suppose I might go into service like our Sarah-Jane, though she doesn’t like it much. She has to work so hard. I hope I can just stay at home and help Mother.’

  ‘What, until you’re an old lady?’

  ‘No, stupid! I’ll find a sweetheart and get married,’ said Maggie.

  I pulled a face.

  ‘Don’t you want to get married, Mona?’

  I tried imagining settling down with someone. Not Martin Bellamy with his big rubbery lips, obviously. Someone nice, like Peter Robinson. It wasn’t such a terrible idea. And I suppose we could always have Aunty come and live with us. She could make clo