The Girl who was a Gentleman (Victorian Romance, History)

by Anna Jane Greenville

  Because I was so entirely lost in thought I did not immediately notice the change of noise when I entered the dining hall. It was when I wanted to hand my plate to cook that I caught her staring at me. She froze, and looked at me as though she had thought me dead but here I was before her. The whole dining hall seemed to think me dead, in fact. There was a ghastly silence in a huge room filled with wild boys. Slowly, I turned around to face them. All four hundred eyes were on me.

  An agonising minute passed before a first year came running towards me. He stopped at a safe distance.

  'There is a gentleman waiting for you in the headmaster's office,' he shifted from one foot to the other nervously, 'is it true you are a girl?'

  My plate fell to the ground and shattered at the boy's feet. It was me this time who looked at the two hundred boys as though I had thought them all dead but here they were. Not for long though. My feet started working before my mind did. I ran from the dining hall, through the familiar corridors to the large, arched door that led to the headmaster's office. I remembered myself standing before this very door on my first day at Kenwood. How timid I had been then, how worried someone might find out I was a girl. It seemed a lifetime away.

  I entered without knocking.

  'Ryde,' thundered the headmaster.

  'Headmaster,' I began slightly out of breath but altogether collectedly and with unshakable resolve, 'there must be a tremendous misunderstanding.'

  Only then did I notice that somebody was sitting in the large arm chair facing the headmaster. A man rose from it.

  'You must be Joanna,' said the man smiling ambiguously through a neatly trimmed beard and whiskers.

  I did not recognise him but I hated him instantly. Who was he and why did he know my name?

  'I am Mr Ryde to you, sir,' I growled at him. It was surprising even to me that I continued to lie so very persistently when there was so little chance of leading them on.

  He chuckled despicably and rubbed his left whisker between his forefinger and thumb.

  'What a wild girl,' he stopped laughing and his face became a mask of authoritative arrogance, 'I have disciplined hundreds of grown men, one little girl should not pose too much of a challenge,' he turned towards the headmaster, 'I thank you for the smooth procedure, I am sure you will handle this delicate matter most discreetly. Everything else shall be handled by me', slowly he turned back to me, 'your sisters are eagerly awaiting us at home, dear sister-in-law.'

  'I did not know,' stuttered the headmaster.

  It was bewildering to see this great man, who had dealt composedly with Chester and many other boys, crumble at the knowledge that I was a girl.

  'Now Miss Joanna, will you leave with me, holding my arm when I offer it to you like a lady, or should I throw you over my shoulder and drag you to the carriage waiting outside?'

  'Sir, your words are an insult,' I barked at him.

  'Which will it be?' he raised his arm offering it to me. His face became even more disagreeable. He was not an ugly man but there was toxic poison in the air around him – not the friendly sort of poison that Hanson sometimes emitted – but deadly, rotten acid.

  The first time I had been to the headmaster's office I had noticed two crossed foils next to the door. They were behind me now. If I made a dash for them, I might reach them before Admiral Lowell could throw me over his shoulder. For some strange reason I felt excitement surge through my veins at the prospect of fencing this man. He was in his forties. Even if he were a great fencer, I had the advantage of youth and recent training. But what was it, I would be fighting for? What was there for me to gain? I could try and kill him, of course – make my sister a widow, and myself a murderer bound to be hanged. Or, I could be killed by him. In both instances, the outcome would be my death.

  The alternative was to take his arm, reunite with my sisters and allow this man, this stranger with the altogether dislikeable countenance, to 'discipline' me. He might marry me off to an old, and disgusting man, or make me work as a governess for a family with twenty screaming and wailing children, or send me into exile to a place where the sun never shone. He looked capable of any of the above, and would hardly strain his well-groomed head to find a gruesome penance for me.

  No matter how I looked at it, I could not think of a possibility which would make him see my reasons, and allow me to take the final examination. The desolate headmaster, who appeared to contemplate the consequences this affair would have for him, would hardly be willing to step up for me.

  One week.

  It was all that was left.

  One week and I might have had the chance to pass.

  But it was all over now.

  Again, I thought of the two swords on the wall. Violence was a path I would no longer take. I had not always been able to follow Hanson's advice to avoid battles – but I would now. The only light I could see in the darkness, was the fact, that Hanson was not here to witness my ruin. He could not take me on as an assistant – even if he was willing to overlook the fact that I had not passed the exam – because he could not risk to be associated with a scandal. It would affect not only the business he was trying to build, but that of his father, as well. And ultimately, it would harm Sofia. I did not want to cause the Hansons any harm – just like I had not wanted to cause harm to my own family. It was my sister who had caused harm to me in the end. She was not even here. She had not even sent a letter to inform me about her wedding. If she and I could have spoken – if I had spoken to her much earlier – I would not be in this position. It was my fault. I had acted on my own will alone, neglected my sisters' wishes, pretended to be their saviour, only to justify my selfish reasons. I had no right to be angry at my sister. She was probably only trying to save me. Irony upon irony.

  'I see no humour in this situation, Miss Joanna,' said Admiral Lowell astonished by my laughter. 'My patience is coming to an end. What will it be?'

  I looked him straight in the eye and said: 'Dear Admiral, please take good care of Elizabeth and Eleanor. Tell them that I love them, and wish them all the best.'

  'What nonsense is this,' uttered he and made a step towards me. But he was too slow, I was already at the door, yanking it open. Outside, all the students had gathered. At their head stood Rajesh Greenfield. The dense crowd of boys blocked my escape. The Admiral was but a few strides away.

  I threw my head back and howled like a wolf. Without a moment's hesitation, Greenfield joined in. The boys, not all but more than I would have thought, did the same. They made way for me, like a last act of honour to Jonathan Ryde who had been one of them, and closed the gap as soon as I had passed. Behind me, I heard the Admiral yell angrily at them. But wolves were wild animals that acted on instinct rather than reason. The Admiral should have know better than to waste his breath on a pack of wild beasts.

  Like many times before, I ran across the college green. For the last time, I breathed in the air which was stuck between the four school buildings – the Main Building, the Academic Building, the Fencing Hall, and the halls of residence – where I had gotten to know love, friendship, and rivalry. Even without the graduation certificate, my horizon had broadened. I had seen a glimpse of the privilege of knowledge, and, there was no reason why I should not continue to strive to learn more about the world. There were libraries, there were people I could talk to. All I had to do was find my place. It did not end with Kenwood. It was only the beginning.

  Suddenly, I was torn from my thoughts. Someone was running behind me. I heard heavy breathing along with heavy foot steps. How could the Admiral have fought his way through the crowd so quickly? With an acceleration of my heart and legs, I pushed on faster. He could not catch me. He could simply not.

  'Jojojonathan!'

  The Admiral did not know that name. And he could not speak with Terry's voice. I halted and whirled round.

  The red-faced boy was running at me under the full speed of his short and chubby legs. It was good to see that he was completely healed.


  When he reached me his throat was gasping for air most violently, but he took no moment to rest. He had something in his hands.

  'Here,' he handed me the bundle. 'I grabbed as much as I could, when I heard... about...,' he bend down holding his knees so as not to fall over from the heavy breaths he needed to take.

  I put my hand on his shoulder: 'Thank you, Terry. You are the best friend a man... girl can wish for.'

  He looked at me with wet eyes, and, with a strength I did not think him capable of, he threw his arms around me, and squeezed me tightly in an embrace.

  'I will miss you, Jo,' he sobbed. 'Please, let me know where you are staying, and if you need any help, at all. I can marry you, if you need me to. I owe you a great deal. I will do anything to help.'

  It was me this time whose eyes were becoming moist.

  'I promise,' I said fighting down a sob, 'I will contact you when things have settled down.'

  He released me and I saw over his shoulder that the door to the main building was opening. The Admiral came into view. Some twenty boys were still sabotaging his efforts to chase me, but he had managed to fight off the others. There was little time left.

  Terry and I nodded at each other, and I was on my feet again, running for dear life. Behind the fencing hall was a trap door that I hoped to find in the high grass. It was the only way for me to escape for the school was surrounded by a tall fence with sharp ends. Even if I climbed it, the Admiral would have a good chance to catch me. He certainly would run after me through all of London if he had to. If I took the path through the secret labyrinth underneath the school and climbed through the well at the other side, I had a chance to escape.

  With adrenaline surging through my veins, my senses were on edge, and my arms and legs worked quickly, pushing apart the grass along the wall of the Fencing Hall. There it was. The trap door. I opened it with some strain and jumped into the damp and stuffy air. The rotten door fell shut behind me with a loud thud. The darkness embraced me.

  My deep breaths penetrated the thick silence. Though I could not see my surroundings, I knew I had no time to loose. The Admiral might find the trapdoor. I had to keep moving.

  With one hand, I held the bundle close to my chest, with the other I felt my way along the wall. I did not allow my mind to consider the eventuality of getting lost in this cold and damp place.

  On and on, I went. Deeper and deeper into the tunnel. There were crossings along the way. I tried to smell where fresh air was coming from. Panic was building up within me, as I had to admit, that there was very little air, at all, and that there was no distinct smell that could guide the way. Then, I employed my memory, and tried to remember which route Redford had taken, when he had rescued Terry and me. I pretended to remember, if only to fight the panic. If I got lost, Hanson would save me, I told myself. It was a thought that did help. I imagined him learning about what had happened. He would be furious, or maybe he would shake his head, and say he knew all along that this would be the outcome.

  I remembered how we had sat in his room that one night, how we talked, how he wanted me to stay, and how happy it had made me. One day, I would look for him. Not now, of course, the risk to involve him would be too great. But some day, when he would run a proper hospital, and might even be married and have children. Then, I would earnestly wish him all the happiness that the world had the capability of giving, for I would not harbour these feelings of love for him, forever. They hurt too much. The air suddenly disappeared completely. I stumbled with my back against the wall, and dropped to my knees. Tightly, I squeezed the bundle Terry had given me to my chest, and felt the tears run down my cheeks in silence. My chest hurt from the feelings that where trying to burst from it. I fought the sob for as long as I could. When it did escape me, it echoed loudly through the tunnels. I sobbed once more, and then noticed how in one of the tunnels there was a different kind of echo, one that ended abruptly while the others continued. I picked myself up and went into the direction of the short echo. When I turned a corner, there was a dead end. But there was light. Light that streamed through the well above my head.

  I wiped the tears from my face, and dusted the dirt from my knees. For the first time I took a look at the bundle in my hand. Terry had grabbed what he could from the wardrobe in my room and stuffed it into the little sack, with which I had arrived at Kenwood. There was one pair of beige trousers, one white shirt, two jackets, one beige, one green, one ornamented waistcoat, and a pair of fancy leather shoes. They were all clothes that Miss Durdle had given me. I felt the sack for a little patch I had sown onto the inside of it. It was near the bottom. Clever, clever Terry. Genius, indeed. How good of him to have chosen to bring me the sack, as well as the clothes. I tore off the patch and retrieved from it a twenty pound note. It was the first money Mr Sears had ever given me. The very one my sisters had refused so fervently.

  I lay everything down, and began taking off the jacket, waistcoat, and shirt I was wearing. Admiral Lowell would be looking all over town for me, describing me as a girl who wore a Kenwood school uniform. I would not give him the benefit of knowing what I was really wearing. On top of that, I knew parts of London where he would never dare look for me. I would outwit him in every respect until he got bored of looking. He might have disciplined hundreds of men – but hundreds of men where nothing compared to one girl!

  Chapter 29

  JOANNA AND JONATHAN

  London was a huge town where many different people lived. Anonymous crowds stormed from one end of the city to the other on a daily basis. Wild traffic ruled the streets and bridges, in the mornings and evenings cattle being led to and from the markets filled the gaps that were not otherwise taken up by humans or vehicles. It was easy to disappear in this sea of living things. To passer-bys I was but a well-dressed lad going about his business; son of some middle-class man or other. I was someone to sell goods to, someone to accommodate at one of the many coffee shops, or, if I refused to be a customer, I was someone to be disregarded. None of the eagerly shouting shop ladies or market sellers knew that I was homeless, and an orphan. Those were strange facts for me to acknowledge myself. Two days ago, my paramount concern was to pass an exam, now I feared to be murdered if I walked into the wrong part of town at night. I had not slept for thirty-nine hours. The past two nights I had spent walking about, trying to keep out the cold by rubbing my palms against one another. I was agitated, tired, and scared. If I stayed awake for another night, I would drop dead from exhaustion. Furthermore, I had not eaten anything since I left Kenwood, either. When I attempted to buy a pastry from a bakery, the woman looked strangely at me when I offered her the twenty pounds – she must have either thought that the money was not genuine or that I had stolen it. She probably tried to estimate if my clothes and general appearance suited the numbers on the paper I held, and eventually said that she did not have enough change. I felt her eyes on my back long after I had left her store.

  Following this unpleasant experience, I was too anxious to try any other shop. It was too conspicuous to pay with a twenty pound note. With the Admiral looking for me, I did not want to burn my image into the minds of the local shop owners. How distressing to have money but no way of using it. My mind was not functioning properly to find a solution, because I was using up all of my strength for my feet. In addition, my paranoia was growing, too. Twice already I had seen a man in a carriage who looked like the Admiral. One time I saw him in the street.

  There was a commotion near the river bank just as I was passing. Thames had choked up another body. There were a couple of them lined up along the shore each morning. Usually, I tried not to look at them for fear of having their images remain permanent memories. Unfortunately, this time, I could not keep myself from gazing at the corpse because it lay straight ahead. I saw instantly why the scene caused people to stop, and lower their hats in shock. There, on the greenish brown, stinking sand, washed up by the waves of the deep river, lay the body of a girl clutching the body of a baby. Her fa
ce had been eaten by the fish. No. It was not the fish. It was Syphilis that had disfigured her features.

  I found myself standing beside her and observing the disease. Strangely, it did not shock me, the way it should. Maybe I had grown immune to shock, or maybe I would have been a perfect doctor, myself – with a sober look on patients' ailments. I had seen enough gore while under Dr Hanson's medical guidance. I would have liked to find a cure for this girl.

  'Do you know her, lad?' asked a man who was about to put his hat back on.

  'I have seen her sell matches and... other things on Southwark bridge,' I admitted with less emotion in my voice than was in my heart.

  'Pity. Such a young one.'

  'Pity, indeed.'

  I left when someone arrived with a barrel and tossed the bodies without respect or mercy. I could not bare to watch and was glad that Hanson would not learn of the Syphilis girl.

  'Mr Ryde,' somebody yelled my name suddenly, and I was about to run before even looking to see who it was. It was the merry way in which it was uttered however, that stopped me.

  'It is you, indeed.'

  'I told you it was.'

  'What a pleasant surprise.'

  'Whatever might you be doing here?'

  'When it is a school day.'

  'Such a beautiful, sunny day.'

  'Don't you find?'

  Lucy and Daisy stood before me, and chatted on like it was their wont. My mind took a long moment to produce an adequate reply.

  'Oh, but you look ghastly.'

  'Look at the circles under Mr Ryde's eyes!'