‘Why don’t you sit on a chair, Beth? You’d be much more comfortable,’ I said. ‘Does Nurse Budd make you sit on the floor? Is it a punishment?’
Beth didn’t reply, and Nurse Budd gave a false tinkly laugh.
‘The very idea, Miss Rose! I’d prefer Miss Beth to sit up nicely in her chair too, but she likes that corner. It’s her own little place.’
‘Own little place,’ Beth murmured to Marigold.
‘You’re like little Jack Horner in the nursery rhyme, Beth,’ I said, sitting down beside her.
I chanted my way through it, and all the other nursery rhymes I could think of. She used to like to join in. I knew she was word perfect, but she didn’t even repeat the last word of each line. She simply held onto Marigold and rocked to and fro.
I tried rocking too. It was surprisingly difficult to keep up, and it hurt my behind. I started to feel giddy, the room seeming to whirl around me. I wondered if that was why Beth rocked. She wanted to be in her own world, not ours.
‘Don’t mock the poor child, Miss Rose,’ said Nurse Budd.
‘I’m not mocking her! I’m trying to understand her,’ I retorted.
‘Understand!’ she said, sniffing. ‘She simply needs the right handling and a regular routine.’
‘I suppose she is quieter than she used to be,’ I said to Clover.
‘I don’t think children should be quiet,’ she replied. ‘I wish I was allowed to look after Beth. Still, Nurse lets me care for Phoebe now. She’s such a sweet baby. I do hope your mama has another baby soon.’
‘I don’t think Mama would care for that! And surely you don’t want to spend the rest of your life looking after babies!’ I said. ‘Papa showed me your drawing, Clover. It’s so good! Papa thinks you’ve got real talent. Perhaps you could be an artist one day. Don’t look like that, some women are. You’d be free to paint all day and keep company with other artists. You could even go to Paris if you wanted. Mr Walker says it’s a wonderful city.’
‘I don’t care what Mr Walker says. I don’t like him very much.’
‘You don’t really know him.’
‘I know the type,’ said Clover, sniffing.
I felt irritated, but I kept my temper. ‘Anyway, in Paris you could stroll along the River Seine and drink wine at bars and stay up all night,’ I said.
‘I can stroll along the River Thames, but I would never drink wine because I’ve seen too many drunks in my life. I certainly wouldn’t want to stay up all night – I like my sleep,’ said Clover, being deliberately contrary.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, you don’t have to be so literal,’ I protested. ‘Don’t you have any ambition?’
‘I could have all the ambition in the world, but where would it get a girl like me, Miss Rose?’ she said.
We were dangerously close to quarrelling again so I kept quiet. Of course she’s right. It’s much harder for a girl from a poor background to achieve anything in life. It’s much harder for any girl. Perhaps that’s why Mama won’t let me go to school. She wants to keep me in my place.
I must be way behind Rupert now. Perhaps I could get him to tell me what he’s learned when he comes home for the Christmas holidays. We could pore over his textbooks together. I loved this idea!
But when Rupert came home at last, he was appalled.
‘Give a chap a break, Rose!’ he said as we sat together on the window seat. ‘It’s rotten enough having to concentrate on all that stuff when I’m at school. I’m so sick of Latin and Greek and mathematics! That’s the last thing I want to think about now it’s the holidays.’
‘Well, what do you want to think about?’ I said. ‘Your dear friend Pamela, I suppose!’
He went red.
‘You’re blushing!’
‘No I’m not. It’s just so hot and stuffy here at home. It’s freezing at school. We don’t have any heating in the classrooms, and the dorms are so cold you have to crack the ice in your water jug in the mornings. Look, I have chilblains!’ He waved his fingers at me.
‘Poor little rich boy,’ I said, mocking him. ‘That’s not a chilblain, that’s just a wart, and you’ve always had it. You’re blushing because of Pamela – and no wonder! You tell such lies about her. Imagine how she’d feel if she found out.’
‘I don’t talk about her any more.’
‘Don’t lie, Rupe. I can always tell when you’re lying.’
‘No you can’t, because I’m telling you God’s honest truth,’ he said. ‘Let’s change the subject because it’s becoming boring. Who’s the new little servant girl, the one with the amazing hair exploding out of her cap?’
‘She’s called Clover Moon,’ I said.
‘Where on earth did she spring from?’
‘Papa found her.’
‘What, she’s one of his little street children? I bet Mama had something to say about that!’ said Rupert.
‘She wasn’t pleased at first, you know what she’s like, but Clover’s wonderful with the children. Even Algie does as he’s told.’
‘Good Lord!’ said Rupert. ‘Maybe she’s bewitched him. She’s got the most astonishing green eyes, have you noticed?’
‘Of course I’ve noticed. She’s my friend,’ I said.
‘Your friend?’ said Rupert, raising his eyebrows.
‘Yes. She’s the dearest, kindest, most talented girl, even though she comes from some awful slum and has led a terrible life. Don’t you dare mock, Rupe,’ I said fiercely.
‘I’m not mocking. As a matter of fact I’ve got a friend who’s a servant too, this chap Jack.’
‘Jack Boots?’
‘No, not our Jack! This is someone at school, one of the gardener’s boys. Kilbourne has massive grounds, and I like to wander around them. I came across this chap cutting back the brambles and we got chatting. He’s good fun. His father’s a boxer, one of those fairground chaps. Jack’s teaching me to box too.’ Rupert clenched his fist and punched me lightly. ‘Apparently women box at the fairs too. There’s an interesting job for you, Rose! And a way of letting out all your aggression.’
‘Oh, very funny,’ I said. I was intrigued by this new friendship, though I knew that Rupert had never been a snob. ‘Are your friends learning to box too?’
‘I don’t hang around with those chaps any more, actually. They’ve started to get on my nerves.’
‘That’s a shame. Mama’s desperate for you to invite some of your school chums to tea over Christmas.’
‘Is she? Well, I’ll invite Jack, that’ll show her,’ said Rupert. ‘He’s actually a capital chap, Rose. I wish I could invite him.’
‘I wish you could too. But, seriously, Mama’s really keen to meet your school friends, the ones you write about in your letters.’
‘I write any old tosh in those letters. As a matter of fact I don’t have any particular friends at the moment.’ Rupert yawned and stretched as if the whole subject bored him, and then started talking about his eccentric mathematics teacher. I was interested, and longed to ask Rupert more about the subject, because I only knew the most basic arithmetic, but I was worried by his hasty change of subject.
‘What do you mean, you haven’t got any particular friends?’ I asked.
Rupert always had friends. Everyone vied to befriend him. He was the most popular boy wherever he went.
He shrugged.
‘You mean you’re friends with everyone?’
‘No, the exact opposite. I’m friends with no one. Or, to be precise, no one is friends with me.’
‘What about Hardy and Martin?’
Rupert shrugged. ‘They can’t stand me. They all despise me now. Don’t look so devastated! I have my new pal Jack if I want company.’ He was trying to pretend he didn’t care, but I saw that he was near tears.
I reached out and took his hand. He gripped mine back tightly. I tried to think of the right thing to say – but then Algie and Clarrie came clattering down the stairs to spend their token time with Mama in the drawing room.
‘You come too, Rupert, please!’ Clarrie begged, and Algie tried pulling Rupert’s legs to tip him off the window seat.
‘Play with us!’ he commanded.
‘Leave Rupert alone, you little horrors,’ I said quickly. ‘He’s feeling tired after his journey. He’s not up to any rough stuff just now. Tomorrow!’
They trailed off, complaining. A minute later Sebastian followed – with one of Clarrie’s pink satin ribbons in his long hair.
‘Sebastian!’ I exclaimed, momentarily distracted. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to wear that ribbon. Mama won’t approve and Papa will laugh at you.’
‘Nurse put it on me because I won’t let her cut my hair. She said if I wanted to look like a girl, then I might as well dress like one too,’ said Sebastian. ‘It’s to shame me.’
‘She’s so mean sometimes. She was always nagging me for being such a tomboy,’ I said. ‘Just take the ribbon off, Seb.’
‘But I like it,’ he told me. ‘I think it looks pretty. And it feels nice.’ He fingered the satin complacently and sauntered off.
‘I hope that poor little tyke doesn’t get sent to Kilbourne,’ said Rupert. ‘They’ll make his life hell.’
‘Why are they making your life hell, Rupe?’ I asked softly.
He sighed. ‘It was the Pamela thing,’ he said. ‘It started to get a bit out of hand. It became a game, and they started making up things about her themselves. Really filthy things. It got a bit too much. I remembered what you said and started to feel guilty. So I told them that she was a decent girl and would never do the things they were suggesting.
‘They thought it was because I was in love with her, so they teased me and called me the Lovelorn Swain and made kissing noises at me. I could cope with that, but then Hardy got a letter saying that his family have been invited to Lady Robson’s party, and the Feynsham-Joneses are all going too.’
‘Oh no!’ I said.
‘Oh yes! He said he was going to make a point of cosying up to Pamela. He seemed to think she’d fool around with him. I couldn’t bear the stuff he was saying, so I hit him,’ said Rupert.
‘Good for you!’
‘But he’s better at fighting than me. He bloodied my nose. I was sure he’d broken it! I doubled up, and Hardy pushed me over, and then my watch fell out of my pocket – and I didn’t see it and stepped on it and it broke.’
‘Grandpapa’s gold watch!’
‘I was so horrified I started blubbing right in front of them all. And they jeered, and now they call me Blubber Baby.’
‘Oh, Rupert. Do you think you can get the watch mended?’
‘It’s completely smashed. God knows what the parents will say when they find out.’
‘And are they still calling you that stupid name?’
‘Boys I don’t even know poke me or try to trip me up so I’ll blub for them,’ said Rupert.
‘Can’t you tell one of the masters?’
Rupert looked at me pityingly. ‘You never tell tales. The whole school would hate me if I ratted on them. Well, they do already. And it’s your fault in a way. If you hadn’t given me that little lecture, I wouldn’t have started to worry about Pamela’s feelings. It’s all very well for you, Rose. You tell me how to behave and yet you don’t have the slightest inkling what school is like. You’re so lucky. You can just loll about at home and do nothing.’
‘I don’t loll,’ I said. ‘As a matter of fact I’ve been sketching. Not just with Papa – with Mr Paris Walker.’
‘Paris! Dear goodness, what a name!’
‘I think it’s a beautiful name,’ I said stiffly.
‘Oh well, it probably suits him. These artist chappies are all weirdos.’
‘Papa isn’t! And neither is Mr Walker!’
I felt immensely sorry for Rupert, but he was starting to annoy me. How could he twist things and say it was my fault that those idiotic boys called him names? He should never have boasted about Pamela in the first place. And why did he have to be so horrid about Paris when he didn’t even know him?
He wasn’t particularly nice to Clover either – even though he knew that she was my special friend. He kept pretending he’d forgotten her name, and called her Daisy or Buttercup or Dandelion. The children roared with laughter, and Nurse smirked too.
I was furious with him. ‘How can you call her silly names when you know how horrible it is?’ I hissed.
‘She doesn’t mind. She laughs too,’ said Rupert.
I had to admit that this was true. When I crept up to her room that night, I apologized to her and said that Rupert didn’t mean any harm.
‘I know that. He’s just teasing. He’s a boy. They all do it,’ said Clover.
‘I know it’s no excuse, but he’s not having a very good time at school,’ I said. That sounded rather ridiculous. ‘I don’t suppose the boys from your alley still go to school at thirteen?’
‘No, they start at the factory at twelve and work a ten-hour shift,’ said Clover.
I felt terrible. What must she think of us all?
Thank goodness Papa is so sweet with Clover. The next morning he announced that he had to go on an important seasonal mission and needed to find the right person to accompany him.
Sebastian and Algie and Clarrie clamoured to be chosen, sensing that Papa might be buying Christmas presents.
‘No, chickies, I need someone who is an expert in this particular field. Someone who is especially interested in dolls,’ said Papa.
‘Sebastian!’ said Algie, screaming with laughter.
‘I quite like dolls, Papa,’ said Clarrie. ‘I like the little ones who live in their own houses. I wish I had a doll’s house and a family of little dolls,’ she added, putting her head on one side and doing her best to look cute.
Papa laughed and tousled her hair, so that her ribbon came undone.
‘Really, Edward, Nurse has just fixed the child’s hair,’ Mama said irritably.
‘Sorry, Clarrie. Naughty Papa. If I see Father Christmas on my travels, I’ll have a word with him about that doll’s house. But I need advice about big dolls.’
‘Beth has Marigold. I think she’s a splendid doll, but Beth will never let me play with her,’ said Sebastian wistfully.
‘Don’t be so silly, child, boys don’t play with dolls,’ said Mama. ‘Edward, you can’t possibly be suggesting that Beth goes shopping with you! I don’t feel she’s quite ready for that sort of outing.’
‘I tend to agree with you, my dear,’ said Papa. ‘I have someone else in mind.’
I thought he was looking in my direction, and smiled – but he was looking past me, to where Clover was deftly retying Clarrie’s ribbon.
‘Little Miss Moon, would you be kind enough to accompany me to the doll-maker’s?’ he asked.
Clover gave a gasp, and clasped her hands. Her green eyes shone. ‘Oh, yes please!’ she breathed.
Mama gave a very different kind of gasp. ‘Really, Edward, have you lost your senses? If you need a servant to help you carry parcels, I suggest you take Maggie, who’s a good strong girl – or Jack Boots, who is growing quite sturdy too. Clover Moon is so small she could barely carry a matchbox!’ she exclaimed. ‘She would be bound to drop something.’
‘I’ve seen the child carry our baby daughter on her hip half the day and she hasn’t dropped her yet. In fact, I’ve seen her haul young Algie around when he’s playing up, and that’s a task fit for a strongman in the circus. Show off the muscles in your skinny little arms, Clover!’ said Papa.
Clover hesitated, not sure whether he was being serious or not. She dropped a curtsy instead and said, ‘I am quite strong, missus, and I’ll be very careful.’
Mama winced at the ‘missus’. ‘You should address me as Madam, Clover – and only speak to me when I ask you a direct question,’ she said imperiously.
Clover’s eyes flashed, but she curtsied again meekly and said nothing.
‘Off we go, Clover. No time to waste,’ said Pap
a, and he whisked her off before Mama could object further.
‘Well, really!’ she said. ‘Your papa has no sense of propriety whatsoever.’
She was soon distracted, because Paris was coming for his last portrait-painting session before Christmas.
I thought Mama might cancel it so that she could make the most of Rupert, but it seemed she’d sooner spend the morning with Paris than with her beloved eldest son.
‘I have other plans anyway,’ said Rupert.
‘Aha!’ said Mama, wagging her finger at him. ‘Might that possibly involve a visit to the Feynsham-Joneses?’
Rupert went red, which made her squeal. ‘Oh, Rupert, you’re blushing, bless you! It must be love! How sweet!’
Algie made disgusting kissing noises, while Clarrie and Sebastian giggled.
Poor Rupert walked out of the room without responding, trying to look dignified, but Algie had left his spinning top on the floor. Rupert tripped over it, nearly falling flat on his face.
This made everyone laugh out loud. I burned all over and rushed after him.
‘Don’t mind them, Rupert, they’re all such fools,’ I said, catching hold of his arm. ‘You’re not really going to see Pamela, are you? If I were you I’d keep away.’
He brushed my hand aside. ‘When I want your advice I’ll ask for it,’ he snapped, and when he got to his room he slammed the door on me.
I was left feeling tearful and aggrieved. Sitting with Rupert on the window seat, I’d felt so close to him, but now he wanted to shut me out. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t fancy making paper chains with Miss Rayner and the little ones. Nor did I want to sing ‘Bye Baby Bunting’ to Phoebe ten times in a row. I didn’t want to brave Nurse Budd and sit with Beth, though I knew I should.
So I went up to the studio though Mama made it plain that she didn’t want me there.
‘Really, dear, you don’t need to come if you’ve lost interest in drawing,’ she said.
‘I’d like to set you a new task, Rose,’ said Paris. ‘Why not attempt a Christmas scene? Depict a typical family Christmas – in your own style.’
‘I don’t think I could,’ I told him.