by Gaie Sebold
Eveline struggled to stay awake until Mama came upstairs, but ended up asleep on the floor next to Charlotte’s cot, when she felt herself picked up, and tucked into bed.
Mama stroked her cheek, and got into bed herself.
“Mama? Was it a nice party?”
“Not very, Eveline. But it’s over. Go to sleep now.”
She had hoped to hear about Dog Man, but before she could ask, she fell asleep again.
EVELINE WAS STRUGGLING with some figures Mama had set her to do. She tried not to interrupt when Mama was working, but Uncle James had no such qualms. Eveline could hear them arguing again, through the wall.
“If you present it yourself, even if your name is on it, Madeleine, you can imagine the reaction.”
“But it’s my work, James.”
“Of course it is, my dear, but it might cause... well, questions. Not only the fault, but even the appearance of the fault should be avoided. Caesar’s wife, you know... or sister, in this case, must be above suspicion.”
Uncle James had left the house in a temper, to go to one of his meetings.
“Mama, who’s Caesar?”
“Darling, have you been listening at doors? You know that’s not proper.”
“I wasn’t listening, I just heard. Who’s Caesar?”
“A very important man in olden times.”
“Oh. Important like Uncle James?”
“Uncle James certainly thinks so. Darling, are you happy here?”
“I’d rather be at home.”
“Oh, my dear, so would I, but there’s no money, you see. But you don’t mind Mama doing some work, do you?”
“I like it when you work. I like the sounds. They make me happy. And Charlotte hardly ever cries when you’re working, especially when you have that thing on, with the rabbit-ear on top, and the other one, the pretty box with the brass handle that goes whoom.”
“It’s true, isn’t it? She doesn’t.” Mama paused, holding a pencil in the air, and staring at Charlotte. Then she nodded vigorously and made notes in one of her books. “Thank you, darling, that’s very helpful.”
Over the next few weeks she worked harder than ever, waking with the maids and going back to her workroom after she’d put the girls to bed. One night she came in while Eveline was still awake, and was humming to herself under her breath, something she hadn’t done for a very long time.
“Mama?” she whispered.
“Oh, did I wake you, my pet?”
“No, Mama. Has something happened?”
“Yes, poppet. Something has. Your mama has made a breakthrough. It’s the combination of sounds, that’s what does it. The right combination. Oh, my pet, we’re finally getting somewhere.”
And for a little while, Mama had a lighter step and a brighter eye. But Uncle James’s voice came through the wall more often, loud and bullying.
Then one day Eveline saw some of Mama’s devices being loaded into Uncle James’s carriage. “Mama, why is Uncle James taking your things? Don’t let him!”
“Now, Eveline, it’s all right. I’ve given my work to Uncle James for him to get people to look at, important people who might give some money for more equipment and things I need. Do you understand?”
“Then they’ll know how clever you are, and give you money, and we can go home and not live with Uncle James any more?”
“Well, no. They’ll think Uncle James is clever. He’s not giving them my name.”
Eveline had frowned, so hard she felt the tension in her forehead. “Why?”
Mama’s head drooped and she rubbed her eyes as though she were very tired. “Because it’s the way of the world, my darling. Now, never mind, let’s go for a walk. We could all do with some air.”
The only place that was nice to walk was all the way out of town, where the houses petered out among fields and woods. Charlotte could hardly toddle more than a few steps, so they took her in the baby carriage, and she squinted at the sunlight and tried to grab butterflies out of the air, and Mama smiled at her, but – for almost the whole walk – said nothing at all. It was only when they were rattling along the pavement back towards the tall stony house that she said, “Eveline, you mustn’t mention this to anyone, you understand? About my work, and Uncle James. If you do, you might get Mama in trouble. And if Mama gets into trouble, they might take you away from me, you and Charlotte. So you must be good, and never speak of this, not to Uncle James or anyone.”
“Yes, Mama.”
SOMETIMES EVELINE TOOK out the crystal that Aiden had given her, and dangled it from her fingers. He had said he would come if she really wanted him.
“What’s that?” Mama said.
“Aiden gave it to me. Remember?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, I’d forgotten. There aren’t any Folk here, are there? I think they dislike the factories. Certainly the noise, maybe the smells too. Do you miss him, Eveline?”
“Sometimes,” Eveline said. But that made Mama look sad, so she put the crystal away and didn’t mention it again.
It wasn’t the volume of the next argument that sent Eveline creeping out of their room and pressing her ear to the door of the workroom; it was the tone. She had never heard Mama sound quite so angry.
“James. What is happening to my work? What are you planning?”
“Don’t be silly, my dear, I’m doing exactly what we discussed.”
“I saw the notes. This is not what I intended and you know it! It was never meant for such a use!”
“Only because you did not have the imagination, the... drive to see it as I see it. You may have contributed to the research...”
“Contributed? James, it is my research.”
“But it is the application that will gain recognition. All these factory disputes, workers demanding this, that and the other thing – it’s a disgrace, and bad for the country. Something that could encourage good, productive behaviour, though... well, it’s just what the doctor ordered!”
Eveline heard her mother use a voice that she had never before heard, a voice so cold, and so full of something terrible, that it barely sounded like Mama at all.
“James, that would be an utter perversion of everything I have worked for. I will write to the Royal Society myself. I will not permit this.”
“Madeleine, that would be very foolish.”
“Please leave my room, James.”
“I remind you that it is not your room. You – and your daughters – are living in my house, on my generosity.”
“And in return, you plan to steal my work and turn it into this... this abomination! I will not have it, James. If I have to leave and take the girls with me, I will do so. We will make our way. Now please leave.”
Charlotte woke and started to whimper. Eveline crept out of bed and went to Charlotte’s cot, where she was sitting up, her eyes huge in her chubby face, her breath hitching on the verge of sobs. “Hush, now,” Eveline said. With some effort, she lifted Charlotte out of the cot. “Hush. Mama... Mama is just playing a game. A special one for night-time. Let’s play our own. Pat-a-cake!”
She held Charlotte on her lap, warm and solid, and played pat-a-cake with her, one ear cocked for any more sounds from the other room.
But there was silence. Mama would be coming to bed soon – Eveline didn’t know what time it was, but it felt late – and would be upset if they were still awake.
Charlotte’s head was already drooping again. Eveline hauled her into the cot and got back into the bed she shared with Mama. She shut her eyes so Mama would think she was asleep. She heard the door open and close, but no-one came in, and eventually pretended sleep became real.
The next morning Mama was not in her bed. Eveline left the room quietly, so as not to wake Charlotte, and crept along in her nightgown to the workroom. Mama was seated at the table, writing.
“Mama?”
Mama jolted, the pen in her hand spattering ink. “Oh, Evvie!”
“Are you writing a letter, Mama?”
�
��Yes. Yes, I am. To the Royal Society, though I don’t know it will do much good.” Mama’s hair was coming down from its pins, and she looked terribly tired. “Once I’m done I shall take a walk and post it. Would you like to come with me?”
“It’s raining.”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it? Never mind, I shall go on my own; I don’t want you or Charlotte to catch cold.”
“You’ve dropped some of your papers, Mama.” Eveline could see a triangle of paper poking out from under the table.
“Have I?” Mama glanced down. “Oh, that was stupid.” She pushed her chair back and stood up. “Eveline, come here.” She knelt down on the floor. When Eveline got closer she could see that the scrap of paper was not lying on the floor, but poking out between two floorboards. Mama took her letter-knife and levered the board up. Underneath was a biscuit tin, sporting a picture of a boy holding a dog on the lid. The boy wore blue breeches and a blue jacket with a lace collar. His cheeks were so round and rosy they made her want to bite into them like apples. The dog was black and white with floppy ears. The dog looked nicer than the boy. Mama opened it, and shoved the scrap of paper into it. “This is Mama’s hiding place. You mustn’t tell anyone, Evvie, do you understand?” She slid the box back into hiding, and put the board down – there, it was all concealed again. Now you couldn’t tell the board from all the others, except for a slight splintered place along one edge where the letter-knife had gone in.
“Why are you hiding papers, Mama?”
“Because I don’t want Uncle James to find them.” Mama looked distracted, turning the letter-knife over in her hands. “What he’s taken already shouldn’t be sufficient... I made sure the essentials weren’t there, but it looks plausible enough if one doesn’t know the underlying principles...”
“Mama?”
“Never mind, Evvie. Just remember that these are Mama’s notes and Uncle James mustn’t know of them, nor anyone. Not even Charlotte.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Now come here and give Mama a kiss. Is Charlotte awake? I think it’s time for some breakfast, don’t you?”
AFTER THAT THINGS were quieter for a while. Mama even smiled one day, telling Eveline that Uncle James had invited a man to the house to speak with her. “I do believe he’s attempting matchmaking, Evvie, imagine! How foolish. As though I could ever find a man as understanding as your dear papa. And what a curious fellow he was – so many questions! I was polite, of course, but answered him very shortly, and left him in no doubt I was a thoroughly dull bluestocking! I think I have poured sufficient cold water to dampen any romantic thoughts. He came out of Uncle James’s study as I was coming upstairs, looking very grim.”
“Why would he talk to Uncle James?”
“Because, darling, Uncle James is my only male relative, and if anyone wished to marry me it would be considered proper for them to ask his permission.”
“What if I wanted to marry someone?”
“Then they would have to ask me. Why, is there someone you want to marry?” Mama smiled.
“No, not at all. I don’t know any boys.”
“You don’t know many people at all, do you, my poor pet?” Mama looked worried again, and Eveline felt she had said something wrong, but wasn’t sure what it had been.
A week later Uncle James had invited another man. Eveline, who felt a personal interest in potential stepfathers, hoped this one might be someone Mama could like. Anything, surely, would be better than this horrible unfriendly house and wretched Uncle James who made her so unhappy.
She decided to eavesdrop. Mama said she was a noticing girl, and often asked her opinion; perhaps she would ask Evvie about her beau.
Eveline managed to conceal herself under the ottoman in the drawing-room, but it was not a very good hiding place: all she could see of the gentleman was a pair of highly polished shoes and the tip of an equally polished cane.
After the usual pleasantries, this man, too, started asking questions.
“Councillor Lathrop tells me you have been somewhat troubled.”
“James is overly concerned, Dr Bower. He thinks I have a weak constitution. I assure you I am quite robust.”
“But I understand you have a hobby involving mechanisms, on which you spend a great deal of time. Do you not find that leaves you fatigued?”
“Surely, if something is only a hobby, it is a source of amusement and relaxation, not fatigue?”
“Mechanisms are an unusual pastime for a lady.”
“Yes.”
“You have two children, I understand.”
“Daughters.”
“And have they, too, shown such an inclination?”
“The youngest is barely two, she is a little young to be showing an inclination towards anything.”
“And the older?”
“Oh, Eveline is a bright girl, she manages to keep herself occupied. She can figure well enough, but she shows no signs of following in my footsteps.”
“I see. It must be a great strain on you, bringing up two daughters alone.”
“Living here, surrounded by servants and under my brother’s constant supervision, I would hardly say I am alone.”
“You feel surrounded?”
“Only occasionally. More tea?”
The conversation was dull. Eveline dozed off in her hiding place, only waking to the scrape of chairs. “Well, this has been a most enlightening conversation, Mrs Duchen,” the man said. “I am sure we will have the pleasure of meeting again.”
“Good afternoon, Dr Bower.”
Eveline waited until it was safe, and crept out, dusting down her pinafore. On her way back to her room, she heard Dr Bower’s voice coming from Uncle James’s study, but she couldn’t hear the words. Was he asking Uncle James for permission to pay court to Mama? Eveline hoped not. She hadn’t taken to him, despite the shininess of his shoes.
EVELINE WOKE THINKING Charlotte had cried out, but the little girl was sleeping quietly. A moment later she heard the shift-change whistle at the mill. It was later than they usually rose. Mama’s bed was empty. Maybe she had worked all night. Sometimes she did, but she always came in to rouse the girls for breakfast.
The door of her workroom was locked. “Mama?” Eveline knocked. “Mama, are you there? Do you want breakfast?” But there was no answer.
Eveline went downstairs.
But neither Mama nor Uncle James was anywhere to be found. She saw the servants pausing to watch her as she passed. Creeping dread started to churn in her stomach and weaken her legs. One of the maids was brushing the carpet in the dining-room. Eveline planted herself in front of her. “Have you seen my mama?”
“Oh, dear...” The maid looked over her shoulder as though afraid of someone, and said, “No, well, a carriage left this morning...”
“Girl! Are you gossiping with your betters?” Uncle James’s manservant had appeared in the doorway, and was looking down his thin nose at them both. “Get back to your work at once,” he said.
The maid scrambled to her feet, clutching the dustpan to her apron, and scurried out of the room.
“Miss Eveline, your uncle wishes to see you,” the manservant said.
“I don’t want to see him, I want to see Mama.”
“Well this is your uncle’s house and you are obliged to do as he says. Will you go, or shall I carry you?”
“If you try to pick me up, I shall bite you,” Eveline said. “Where is my mama?”
“If you want to find out, you’ll go see your uncle. He’s in his study.”
Eveline lifted her chin and walked past him. As she did so he bent down and said, “I would advise you to mind your manners, young lady – unless you want to end up in the poorhouse.”
The walk to Uncle James’s study seemed very long. And there were servants everywhere – the hall and stairs need extra special cleaning this morning, it seemed. Even the cook had emerged from ruling over the kitchens to stare. He and the manservant nodded meaningfully at each other. “Wel
l I wasn’t at all surprised,” the cook said, hardly bothering to lower his voice. “The child’s a positive savage. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
And then she was in Uncle James’ study, and Uncle James was sitting behind his desk.
“Ah, Eveline.”
“Where’s Mama?”
Uncle James sighed, looking down at his hands, as they took a pen out of the inkwell, put it back, turned over a piece of paper... as though his hands were nothing to do with him, acting entirely on their own. “Uncle James?”
He frowned at her. “This is very difficult for me, Eveline. This whole thing is extremely distressing.”
“Uncle James?”
“Your mama has been behaving in an increasingly erratic manner, Eveline. Making wild accusations. She was even talking about leaving, attempting to set up some sort of business in the town – one can easily imagine how that would have ended, and my reputation would be ruined.”
“Where is she?”
“Madeleine has had to go away.” Uncle James heaved himself out of his chair and stood with his back to Eveline, staring out of the window. “Really, it is all dreadfully awkward.”
“But where is she?”
“In a place where her eccentricities can be dealt with.”
“But when is she coming back?”
“She will come home if her behaviour can be controlled, if she can stop making these ridiculous claims.”
“I don’t understand. Who has she gone to see?”
Uncle James reached for the bell-pull and yanked viciously. “No-one. She is being treated.”
“Is she sick?”
“Yes. She is mentally unwell. Suffering from hysteria, and delusions.”
Eveline did not know what either of those words meant, but they sounded worse than the croup or even the scarlet fever, that Mama had been so afraid either of them might catch. She must be dreadfully ill. What if no-one was looking after her properly? “I want to go see her!”
“Certainly not. Children are not permitted in such places.”
“Why not?”
“It isn’t suitable. Where is that wretched maid? Flirting and gossiping no doubt, I really will have to speak to...”