Dancing the Charleston Read online

  I wished he had a grave in the churchyard too so that I could feel close to him. I knew he was buried somewhere in France, with lots of other soldiers. I had a sudden astonishing thought. When I was older I would have enough money to take a ship to France and visit his grave. One thousand one hundred pounds plus interest! I could go anywhere I wanted.

  I took my little china doll out of my treasure box and balanced her on the back of my hand. Then I steered her across the waves of my blue eiderdown, taking her to France, to Italy, all the way to America – to all the faraway lands in Miss Nelson’s atlas of the world.

  ‘Sail away, little Farthing,’ I said, and she waved her tiny china arm and slid all the way down the Niagara Falls of my leg.

  She wore a wisp of a dress, just crumpled muslin, so as soon as Aunty had finished the four-letter monogram I begged her to make my doll a new purple silk party frock out of a scrap left over from Mr Benjamin’s pyjamas.

  ‘I’ve got too much to do, sewing all the children’s clothes,’ said Aunty. ‘I shouldn’t have spent all today sewing the silk pyjamas, but I wanted to have them ready for when Mr Benjamin next visits.’

  ‘Haven’t you got enough little clothes now to take them to one of the big department stores in London? Mr Benjamin said to try Harrods,’ I reminded her.

  ‘I’m not sure he was serious. Harrods is a tip-top department store,’ said Aunty, ‘and London is a very big city. It isn’t just a matter of getting the train. I’ll have to take an omnibus too, and it’s all so noisy and confusing, and I’ll be lugging the suitcase full of clothes and getting so flustered I’ll hardly be able to say my own name, let alone persuade the buyer of the children’s department to take my little garments. It’s making my heart flutter just thinking about it.’

  ‘I’ll come with you, Aunty,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Mona. I’m not having you missing school.’

  ‘We could go on Saturday. Oh, please let’s. It will be such an adventure!’

  ‘I can’t afford the fare for me, let alone for you,’ said Aunty.

  ‘I can afford our fares,’ I said grandly. ‘We can go to the bank and draw out some of my money.’

  ‘I told you, we’re not touching a penny of it,’ she said.

  ‘You said we wouldn’t spend it unless there was a dire emergency. And it is, sort of,’ I said. ‘You need to sell the clothes and get orders for more.’

  ‘I’ll go to Hailbury and sell them there,’ said Aunty.

  ‘They won’t want quality stuff in Hailbury. Mr Benjamin said you’d be better off trying in London,’ I insisted.

  ‘Yes, well, it’s easy for Mr Benjamin to say that when all he has to do is call up his chauffeur and get driven wherever he wants,’ said Aunty.

  ‘We could ask him to take us in his car,’ I suggested.

  ‘Don’t be so silly, Mona!’

  ‘But he’s our friend now.’

  ‘Yes, but not so that we can ask him for any more favours! For goodness’ sake, child, we have to know our place,’ said Aunty.

  That was the trouble. We didn’t seem to have any place in society. We weren’t villagers. We weren’t gentry. We didn’t have our own gentleman to look after us.

  ‘I wish we weren’t always the odd ones out,’ I said.

  ‘So do I,’ said Aunty. She kneaded her forehead, frowning.

  ‘Have you got a headache?’

  ‘It’s nothing, child,’ she said, but she looked very pale.

  I ran to the kitchen, held the tea towel under the cold tap, and then wrung it out carefully.

  ‘Here, Aunty,’ I said, and I made her sit back in her chair while I stood behind her and pressed the cold towel to her forehead. ‘Is that nice?’

  ‘Yes. Lovely,’ Aunty murmured. ‘You’re a good girl, Mona. Bless you, dear.’

  ‘And we’ll go to London on Saturday, you and me?’ I begged. ‘I’ll run home from school quick as quick tomorrow, and we’ll go to see Mr Freeman at the bank in the village and take out the money for our fares.’

  ‘No, Mona!’

  ‘Yes, Aunty! Yes, yes, yes!’ I insisted.

  I went on saying yes, emphasizing the last letter so that I hissed like a snake, and eventually Aunty gave in. She really needed to sell the clothes and she could see that Mr Benjamin’s idea made sense. She seemed scared of going to London though. It wasn’t just because it was a big city. She didn’t really like going out anywhere, not even down to Rook Green. She always sent me to do the shopping or run errands. After we’d been to the bank with the cheque she had to have a lie-down. She always thought people were staring at her, even when they barely gave her a second glance.

  Poor old Aunty, I thought. I’d look after her when we went to London. I’d help her carry the case and we’d find our way to Harrods. If Aunty got tongue-tied, I’d speak up. We’d sell all those dinky little dresses and Aunty would be thrilled.

  The next day, the minute we were let out of school I started running.

  ‘Hey, Mona, wait for me!’ Maggie called indignantly.

  ‘Well, get a move on. I’m in a hurry,’ I said.

  ‘Why? Where are you going?’ she demanded.

  ‘Somewhere,’ I said. I couldn’t tell her about going to the bank because I’d promised Aunty not to talk about my inheritance. And I didn’t really want to tell her any more, even though she was my best friend. She was starting to get on my nerves a bit.

  ‘Tell me!’

  I held my nose and wiggled it in reply, indicating that she was being a nosy parker.

  ‘Don’t be horrid,’ said Maggie. She ran faster and caught hold of my arm. ‘Are you meeting up with Peter Robinson?’

  ‘No! Are you mad?’

  ‘Then are you seeing that fancy-pantsy Mr Benjamin?’

  ‘Don’t call him that!’

  ‘Well, he is. We all think he looks a right sissy in them clothes. I don’t know why you think he’s so wonderful.’

  ‘You just don’t understand fine clothes,’ I said, sniffing.

  ‘Oh, shut up, you swanky mare,’ said Maggie.

  I had to stop running because I was out of breath, but I walked as quickly as I could. Maggie kept pace with me, but we didn’t say another word until we got to her cottage. Bertha was tethered to the doorknob, toddling barefoot through the grass. When she saw me she shouted happily and held up her arms.

  ‘No, sorry, Bertha, I’ve got to run home,’ I said.

  ‘Aren’t you even coming in for your bread and dripping?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘Not today,’ I told her.

  Maggie flounced off, and went to pick Bertha up herself.

  I shifted from one foot to the other, wondering if I should try to make up with her. Then I thought of spending Saturday in London, and ran on without even saying goodbye.

  I was worried that Aunty would pretend she’d forgotten all about going to the bank. I was all prepared to drag her out of her workroom – but she was standing at the door waiting for me, wearing her coat and hat.

  ‘Wipe your face and get changed quick, dear,’ she said.

  I did as I was told, putting on my hat and my little white gloves too. Visiting the bank was as solemn a thing as going to church. We walked back down into Rook Green, Aunty scarcely glancing to left and right to avoid making eye contact with anyone. If someone greeted her, she gave them a quick nod but walked rapidly past. Most village women stood and had a natter whenever they met, but not Aunty.

  Old Molly was sitting in the doorway of her shop, her eyes still bright in her old wrinkled face. ‘Afternoon, Miss Watson,’ she said.

  Aunty nodded.

  ‘Where are you two going then, all dressed up to the nines?’ Old Molly asked.

  ‘I’m on business,’ Aunty answered curtly, and tried to hustle me past.

  Old Molly hooted with laughter. ‘On biz-niz! Who do you think you are, Miss High and Mighty?’

  Aunty walked on, pretending she hadn’t heard.

  ‘