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

by Anna Jane Greenville

  'Her skin is transparent.'

  'Mr Ryde are you unwell?'

  'Of course, she is.'

  Was my mind playing tricks on me, or did Lucy just say 'she'?

  'Mr Ryde, would you like to come home with us?'

  'We have only just come from work.'

  'We have leftover cake from the hotel's restaurant.'

  'Would you like to join us for tea?'

  'You have no idea how much the gentle folks throw away.'

  'What they don't want, we shall enjoy.'

  Tea and cake were the key words that sent my gears in motion. I nodded to the girls, and said a few incoherent words to express my gratitude. Lucy and Daisy surrounded me, and tucked their arms into mine. Like this we walked down The Strand, crossed Waterloo Bridge, and were soon in Southwark. The twins chatted on and on, as I focussed to keep a steady stride. It was not far to their home, but halfway there my legs began to wobble. Summer heat brought with it new smells that my nose was not accustomed to.

  'Oh, Mr Ryde, I only just remembered.'

  'So did I.'

  'He is looking for you.'

  'Mightn't we tell him you are with us?'

  'He will be so pleased.'

  'He has been looking everywhere.

  'And asking everyone.'

  'No, do not tell him,' I interposed firmly.

  Thinking about the Admiral made me sicker than the stink, that lay heavily on the narrow side street. They talked without even the smallest of pauses and it was the best of noises to fall asleep to as we finally arrived at their home. At first, I dreamt of nothing. It was as though a lamp had been turned off, and there was nothing but darkness to be seen. At some point, however, through my sleep, I began dreaming of Hanson. We were in the same room, but he was unaware of my presence. He was talking to somebody. The other person I could not see. The room was strange. It had no furniture, no walls, no floor, and yet it was a room. Unlike everything else, I could see Hanson clearly, hear his voice clearly.

  'I believe congratulations are due,' said the other person. I could distinguish a silhouette but there was no face to go with it. Hanson smiled – that I saw clearly. It was as though the light shone on him in an otherwise dark room.

  'Why might they be due,' he asked with a voice and face that betrayed hidden sorrow. The kind of sorrow he would always cover with a sad smile. Sometimes he smiled at Sofia that way, when she was not looking. I remembered him giving me such a smile, when I was being bullied by Chester and his wolves.

  'Well, you are engaged to be married. Is it not cause for celebration?' The other party, it transpired, was uncertain, and careful.

  Neither appeared to think there was indeed a cause for celebration, and was expecting the other party to state the opposite. It could only mean, that Hanson had finally proposed to Abigail Johnson. No sane person could express heartfelt happiness on such an occasion. I had prepared myself for it, and maybe this dream was like a final warning – I knew I was dreaming but I felt my chest tighten regardless.

  'I suppose it is,' said Hanson thoughtfully.

  'Abigail Johnson is a fine young lady of handsome wealth,' the invisible person said in a desperate effort to build up enthusiasm.

  'Mrs Banks,' said Hanson accusingly. When he uttered her name, Mrs Banks stepped into the light that was encapsulating Hanson, and I was able to see her face, too. 'Of all people you certainly know the reason why I proposed to Abigail Johnson. I shall not fool you, if you do not attempt to fool me.'

  Mrs Banks sighed a long and dreary sigh.

  'Are you not going too far? Is there no other way?'

  'I am afraid not. If there was, I would have taken it. But there is no need to worry, everything will be fine.'

  'Oh, well,' she sighed again. 'I suppose if you are so sure about it, then there is no reason why I should doubt you.'

  'Indeed there is not. Now,' said Hanson as a way to introduce a new subject, 'what should we do about our sleeping beauty, here? She needs to wake soon, or I will begin to worry.'

  In my dream I could not see who he was talking about. It made no sense to me. There was probably someone else in the room, too, but I was suddenly too tired to comprehend it. My head hurt, and was buzzing like a wasps' nest. I felt like crying, because I did not want Hanson to marry Abigail. I wanted him to be happy, but not with her. Why did it have to be her?

  'Oh, look,' exclaimed Mrs Banks.

  I wanted to run away from Hanson and her. I wanted to run back into the blackness of my dream. It was my dream and they had outstayed their welcome in it. But I ran not quickly enough. Someone held me by the hand, and I could not move. It was a warm and soft hand. It could only be Hanson's. I was afraid to look at him. I did not want him to see me right now.

  'Joanna, are you awake?' he asked shaking me slightly.

  I realised, that I really was awake, and had listened to their real conversation, only I had been still dozing. The reason why I could see his face so clearly without opening my eyes, was because I knew him well. I could feel his expressions by the way he spoke, and by the way he remained silent. It also meant that I was really crying, and that it was my crying which had exposed me. My face was wet, and the pillow too. Without opening my eyes, I covered them with my hands, and turned towards the pillow. I could not place the exact reason why I was crying. In fact, there were too many reasons.

  'Oh, come here,' he said like I was a small child that had taken a fall. He took me by the shoulders with both hands, and made me sit up so that he could hug me while I cried on his shoulder. His embrace, though a little too firm, offered inexplicable comfort – and soon it would be reserved for Abigail alone.

  'This time,' he said quietly, 'you really scared me, Joanna.'

  His embrace tightened to a point that was no longer comfortable, he was beginning to hurt me.

  'I was imagining all sorts of horrors that could have happened to you in those two days you were missing. Why didn't you come to me, Sofia or Mrs Banks immediately?' he sounded as though he could not bring himself to express the full extent of his anger due to the worry I had put him through. The only thing he could do, was squeeze me tighter.

  'I am sorry,' I wheezed under the pressure of his arms. Even though he hurt me I did not want him to let go. What if this was the last time he would ever embrace me? 'I did not want to involve you in my scandal... and I did not think...'

  'You did not think we would be willing to take you in?' he demanded with a trembling voice that almost resembled a growl. 'How can you think that, Joanna?'

  I dug my finger into his jacket, and mumbled how sorry I was. The tears started flowing from my eyes with renewed strength. His hold softened, and he began patting my back and head, until there were no more tears left to cry.

  When I regained my composure and wiped my face. Hanson informed me that there was food and news waiting for me. I was eager to receive both.

  While I ate the fresh rolls of bread with a thick layer of butter on them, and drank my tea greedily, Mrs Banks watched with delight. I had slept for thirteen hours, after the twins had brought me into the house. Lucy and Daisy had told Mrs Banks that I had asked them not to let Hanson know that they had found me, but she would have none of it, and sent the girls for him right away. Hanson looked accusingly at me. I explained that it was not Hanson I had been talking about, but the Admiral. I had thought it was him that the girls had meant. Hanson's expression did not change however. He repeated that I should have come straight to him, and the fact that I did not, was proof of my lack of trust in him. To this, I said nothing, for it was not a lack of trust in him, but a lack of trust in myself that had kept me away. But to admit it to him would have been the same as screaming in his face that I loved him.

  'You should not worry too much on my behalf from now on,' I said eventually. Holding my tongue had never been a strength of mine. 'You have someone else to think and worry about.'

  I said it with more regret than I would have wished to voice.


  'Eavesdropping, Joanna, is unbecoming,' observed Hanson disapprovingly. 'However, my engagement is none of your concern, and I should ask you not to waste too many sleepless nights over it.'

  'That is cruel,' I said without thinking, and slapped my hand over my mouth but the words were out.

  He gave me a vile look. I would look at myself the same way if I were him.

  'Under ordinary circumstances I would tell you about my intentions and plans,' he bent down on his elbows towards me across the table. 'But because of the way in which you have behaved towards me, and because of the misery you have put me through – Oh, you have no idea! I have been all over London and by the river, hoping with all my heart that I would not find your face among the drowned – I shall not provide you with any knowledge of my motives whatsoever. Worry your little head all you want.'

  Hanson's eyes became evil slits that sparkled like a snake's. I had never seen him like this. There was sadistic enjoyment in the way he spoke.

  'Imagine me kissing her on our wedding night, how does that make you feel?' he leaned closer to me.

  I had a piece of roll in my hand which now dropped to the floor. My face heated up to the temperature of glowing iron. Mrs Banks muffled a chuckle with her hand and pretended to cough.

  'Soon Abigail will be in my arms, and no one shall ever come between us. Abigail Hanson, does it not sound grand?'

  I thought there were no tears left in me, but I was disabused of that notion when new ones built up, but I would throw myself into Thames, tied to a rock, if I let even one of them fall. Another urge I felt was to run out the door, but the only destination I could think of was the bottom of the river, therefore I remained where I was, gaped at Hanson like a half-wit.

  'You knew about,' I cleared my throat because my voice was practically non-existent, 'about my... my... fee-'

  'Of course, I did. I know everything. You cannot hide anything from me. Therefore, don't do it, because I find out eventually,' he sat back satisfied.

  I was close to the bottom of the river. His words echoed in my mind – and I realised something odd.

  'Find out eventually?' I repeated. 'It means you did not know. You were suspecting, and I almost admitted it.'

  'No, not almost. You did admit it, just now. Mrs Banks is my witness. What I knew or did not know before does not matter, because I know now.'

  'You are an imposter,' I claimed rising from my chair, 'you know nothing, and I admitted to nothing.'

  'You asked if I knew about your feelings.'

  'I did no such thing. I asked weather you knew about my fees.'

  'This makes no sense.'

  'Yes it does, I meant to ask whether or not you knew about the school fees. Since I was expelled, will my fees be refunded in part?'

  'Liar,' he yelled and rose from his own chair, and stepped around the table to approach me, but I walked away from him. We circled the piece of wooden furniture clockwise. Mrs Banks was giggling like a little girl. I was not sure if either of us was serious, but I would not be the one to show a smile first.

  'You wanted to say 'feelings'.'

  'You cannot prove that I did. What I said was 'fee'.'

  'Is that so?'

  'Yes, it is.'

  'Then why do you not stop walking away from me, and say it to my face.'

  'No, thank you.'

  'Stop,' he turned around and changed direction. Our pace remained steady as I changed direction, too.

  'No.'

  'You are being a child.'

  'You are the one coming after me.'

  'I have a reason to come after you.'

  'Which is?'

  'Stop walking away from me, and you will find out.'

  'You can tell me from where you are.'

  'Alright,' he began walking a little quicker, and I did too. 'I want to kiss you.'

  Mrs Banks exclaimed a vowel of delight as though she was the one he wanted to kiss, and, excited as she was, she kicked another chair accidentally against my foot. I fell flat to the floor. When I propped up on my hands, Hanson was squatting down in front of me, his face dangerously close to mine. He looked into my eyes with an expression that I could not help but love.

  'Can I?'

  'Do you intend to marry Abigail?'

  'No.'

  'Are you engaged to her?'

  'Yes.'

  'Then, no,' I rose to my feet that had become weak from my own resolve. Hanson rose to his full body height, and I wished he would choose not to listen to me, and just kiss me anyway. He was so much bigger and broader than me, I would not be able to stop him, but I would pretend to, of course. It was a matter of principle, after all.

  He made a step back.

  'Very well,' he said slightly disappointed but with a serious, unwavering expression. 'I suppose, you are right.'

  I had never been any more wrong in my entire life. Did he not see it? The man I loved had asked to kiss me, and I, the biggest scandal in the history of scandals, chose to be one virtuous scandal. Oh, I could slap myself.

  'Bravo,' said Mrs Banks and began clapping her hands. She was so taken with our performance that she gave standing ovations. My face discovered a new shade of red.

  'One more thing, Miss Ryde,' said Hanson. There was this hateful 'Miss Ryde' again. 'I believe you have a very important examination coming up. So, why are you here and not in the library. As your headmaster, I am afraid to say, it is my duty to see that every student is on the school premises studying.'

  I stared at him in disbelief and stuttered a number of questions that I failed to finish.

  'The former headmaster unexpectedly resigned. I believe, there was an incident with a girl who had dressed as a boy – I do not know the details. He was greatly distressed over the matter and chose to retire prematurely. Next school year there will be a new headmaster, but this term Mr Ferring, Mr Walsh, and the other teachers appointed me as acting headmaster. As this is my last term I am not afraid to be demoted for making a mistake, or allowing a girl to take the examinations. We all agreed. The other teachers would be as disappointed as I if our favourite student failed the exam.'

  'But... have I not been expelled?'

  'The former headmaster has resigned before arranging your expulsion, and the current headmaster has no intentions on the matter,' reported Hanson proudly.

  'But... what if Admiral Lowell comes looking for me?'

  'Kenwood will be the last place he will look for you.'

  Indeed, Admiral Lowell would have to be completely mad to step foot onto Kenwood grounds. But even if he did go so far as to come back I would run away again. It was a risk worth taking.

  I threw my arms around his neck and yelled 'Thank you!' an uncountable number of times.

  Chapter 30

  PROMISE AND PROPOSAL

  The day I came back to Kenwood, Rajesh Greenfield greeted me with a handshake, which he made sure was seen by as many of the other boys as possible. He whispered in my ear that misfits had to stand by each other. From that moment on, I was welcomed with nothing but respect. Many acknowledging nods were directed my way, whispers of admiration and sometimes confusion followed me through the corridors. The special treatment was discomforting, but it did not last long. With only a few days left until the final examination, the third years focused on their work rather than me, and the first and second years all left Kenwood to enjoy their summer holidays at home.

  For the remainder of my school days, I blended in with the landscape of blue uniforms perfectly, after all I was but another student, and all of my effort, the struggle, and the hardships were not in vein – I passed and graduated. Hanson and I celebrated together in his office on the third floor of the Academic Building. All his books were packed up in boxes, the shelves were naked and glum. Another teacher would move in soon but he could never fill the rooms with as much life and meaning as Hanson had.

  Despite the bottle of red wine that Hanson had brought – which we gazed at thoughtfully rather than drank –
it did not feel much like a celebration, we hardly talked and there was sadness as well as joy in my heart. I would not have thought it possible – I already missed the boys, and the school, and everything. Most of all I missed Terry – dear Terry had given Hanson a letter for me. So big was the boy's faith in me that he had included his congratulation in that letter which he had written several days before the actual exam, furthermore he promised to visit me and emphasised that his offer for my hand in marriage was still in effect, though he realised that my situation had improved since he had first voiced his proposal. It made me laugh and I could not help but feel the strongest of affections – though not of a romantic kind, of course, over my romantic affection Hanson held sole possession, and there was hope in that respect. Abigail had learned that Hanson wanted to spend her fortune on a hospital, but she did not want to be a doctor's wife and released him from his promise. To mend Hanson's broken heart – as she naturally assumed that his feelings must have been stronger than hers – she invested one thousand Pounds into the hospital. Though there was no evidence that Hanson had planned it, there was also very little evidence that he had not. In any case, he did not seem too disconcerted with the arrangement.

  With Abigail Johnson's name on a cheque Hanson obtained a number of permissions from a number of offices – a dreary procedure, and rented a house made of solid stone walls and big windows near Waterloo Bridge, which we filled with twenty-five beds.

  Hanson made a list of the medicine and supplies which would have to be stocked, he bought utensils, and a carriage, so house visits could be made at any time of the day or night. The entire one thousand Pounds and all of Hanson's savings were gone – we were now at the mercy of our patrons.

  The hospital opened on the 27th of September, 1874. Summer had remained in London, as if waiting for that very day. Autumn and the cold winter months were precisely the time when our services would be needed most.

  Throughout all the struggles and problems I was by his side, and would remain there as long as he needed me. Already, I was making myself useful by taking care of the accounts. Hanson easily got lost with numbers, while I enjoyed keeping ahead of them. He had never liked numbers even though he had been a teacher of mathematics and science. No wonder most of our curriculum at Kenwood had consisted of science with only a little bit mathematics on the side.