Kate's Story, 1914

by Adele Whitby

  As we marched, the sun warmed my face; my steps kept time to the rousing sounds of the brass band as the claps and cheers of the crowd rang in my ears. Plenty of faces in the crowd frowned at us; I caught more than one man shaking his head in disgust. But it seemed to me that just as many people grinned to see us marching . . . or at least watched us with interest. A few eager supporters even threw the Garden Club’s blooms back to us! I wasn’t sorry to miss out on watching the rest of the parade—it was much more fun to be part of it. And no one enjoyed the parade more than Great-Grandmother Katherine, waving, calling out greetings to everyone she saw, encouraging others to join us behind the Suffragette Sisterhood banner. I felt a surge of pride as I marched along beside her. I already knew that I would never forget this moment for as long as I lived.

  And best of all, the Fourth of July celebrations were just beginning!

  After the parade, Mayor Watson took to the platform in Town Square to read the Declaration of Independence in his deep, booming voice. The solemn words always gave me a thrill. But today I glanced sideways at Beth. I hoped she wouldn’t be offended, especially by the parts that talked about the tyranny of King George. Luckily, Beth didn’t seem upset. She was listening with her eyes closed, a look of respect on her face.

  After that, there were a few rousing speeches, and then the brass band struck up again, playing “My Country, ’Tis of Thee.” We all sang along, except Beth—though I noticed the hint of a smile playing across her lips. “I know that tune,” she said to me when the singing finished. “But in England, it has very different lyrics. We call it ‘God Save the King.’ ”

  “But what if there’s a queen on the throne?” I asked.

  Beth grinned. “Then we call it ‘God Save the Queen’ instead!” she replied.

  We walked back to Vandermeer Manor together, following my parents, with all the servants trailing behind us.

  “I quite enjoyed your Independence Day,” Beth said enthusiastically. “Can you believe we marched in a parade? I wonder what Shannon will have to say about that. At home, everyone would have been scandalized—but it mustn’t have been too bad if Great-Great-Aunt Katherine did it. It seemed as though the whole town adores her.”

  “Oh, they do,” I said. “Everyone loves her. How could they not? She’s always in the middle of everything—helping, organizing, arranging. Great-Grandmother Katherine makes good things happen. I can’t imagine what Bridgeport would do without her.

  “Wait till we get home,” I continued. “Mrs. Hastings has fixed a picnic of American foods that you’re going to love. And tonight, there will be a clambake and fireworks over the ocean!”

  “What fun,” Beth said, her eyes shining. “It seems the excitement never stops in America.”

  “Don’t you—well, I suppose you don’t celebrate the Fourth of July, of course,” I said awkwardly.

  “No, we don’t,” Beth replied. “But we have Guy Fawkes Night in November. He was part of the Gunpowder Plot to blow up Parliament and murder King James in 1605. But it was foiled, and we’ve celebrated every year since. It’s a grand time, with bonfires burning on every corner and fireworks lighting the night.”

  “Fireworks are my favorite,” I said.

  “Mine too,” Beth said. “Do you think we might pop by the kitchen—in case Mrs. Hastings has any more of those biscuits? Or cookies, I should say.”

  I glanced around for Alfie, but didn’t see him. “Yes, but we’d better hurry,” I replied. “Because if Alfie knows about the cookies, there won’t be any left.”

  Beth and I ran toward the house, laughing all the way. But our laughter faded as soon as we stepped inside Vandermeer Manor. Mother and Father were waiting for us, with grim expressions on their faces. I could tell right away that something was wrong.

  “Come into the parlor, my dears,” Mother said gently. “There’s been a telegram from England.”

  Beth stayed rooted to the spot. All the color drained from her face, leaving her ashen and trembling. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “What happened? Is it—is it Mother—or—?”

  “No, no, no, nothing like that!” Mother said at once as she wrapped her arm around Beth. “Your family is just fine—as well as can be.”

  A tremendous sigh of relief shook Beth’s shoulders. “Then why did they send a telegram?”

  “Please, Father, read it,” I said.

  He cleared his throat. “Europe unstable—stop—talk of war—stop—send Beth home at once—stop—confirm passage on earliest steamship to London—stop—Lord and Lady Etheridge,” Father read from the paper in his hand.

  Send Beth home at once.

  In the silence that followed, those words reverberated, as if Father kept repeating them.

  “Go home?” Beth said numbly.

  “No!” I cried. “No. She just got here!”

  “Kate,” Mother began.

  “Why does she have to leave?” I demanded. “The war hasn’t started. There might not even be a war! And even if there were, Beth is safe here. Safer than she would be overseas!”

  “Kate,” Mother said again. “This is not our decision to make.”

  “You’re right, of course,” I said. “It’s Beth’s decision.” I turned to my cousin. “What do you want to do, Beth? Would you prefer to go home?”

  She shook her head vehemently. “No, Kate, never!” Beth exclaimed.

  “Please,” I begged my parents. “Please don’t send her away. We’ve waited so long for this—and she’s only just arrived—it’s not fair—”

  Father and Mother exchanged a troubled glance.

  “You know, Eleanor, the girls do have a point,” Father said as he stroked his beard, like he always did when he was deep in thought. “I see no reason why Beth couldn’t stay at Vandermeer Manor for the duration of the war . . . should such a thing come to pass.”

  “Lord and Lady Etheridge could not have been clearer,” Mother argued. “I can imagine myself in Liz’s shoes—if Kate were halfway across the world and war brewing—and I know that I would want my daughter by my side, safe beneath my roof, no matter what it took to bring her back.”

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” Father announced. “We’ll send a telegram to the Etheridges and assure them that Beth is safe here and welcome to stay until cooler heads prevail on the Continent. Most likely, they didn’t want to impose on us. All right with you, Eleanor?”

  In the moment before Mother answered, I held my breath. Beth did the same.

  “Yes, of course,” she replied at last. Then she fixed Beth with a welcoming smile. “We are honored to have you here and will see if we can keep you here for your fully planned stay.”

  “Thank you!” Beth and I cried at the same time as we swooped toward Mother, wrapping her in such a fierce hug that she nearly lost her balance. Father laughed as he used his strong arm to steady us all.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have a telegram to compose,” Father told us. “And then I think we all have a bit more celebrating to do. From what Mrs. Taylor tells me, Mrs. Hastings has outdone herself with a special Fourth of July picnic. I, for one, cannot wait to have some of her delicious cherry pie.”

  The next morning, there was a telegram waiting for Father at the breakfast table. Beth’s parents had responded before dawn.

  INSIST BETH RETURN HOME IMMEDIATELY STOP CONDITIONS UNSAFE STOP PASSAGE BOOKED 6 JULY EVENING

  “My poor dears,” Aunt Katie breathed.

  “Again the wide ocean will separate two girls who should be together,” Great-Aunt Kathy added sorrowfully. Great-Grandmother Katherine was unusually silent.

  At last, I found my voice. “Six July?” I said in shock. “July sixth? But—that’s tomorrow! My birthday!”

  “I won’t,” Beth said stubbornly. “I won’t leave on Kate’s birthday, and I won’t miss her party.”

  “I’m afraid we don’t have a choice,” Mother said. “Lord and Lady Etheridge stand firm in their decision.”

  “But—” I ar
gued.

  “Anton, bring Hank,” Father said over his shoulder. Then he turned to me. “Young lady, I understand that you’re disappointed, but there is simply nothing else to be done. I can’t say I blame Lord and Lady Etheridge. If a war broke out, I’d want my children safe at home.”

  “I’d go fight,” Alfie spoke up.

  “Shut it, you!” I snapped.

  “Kate!” Mother reproached me.

  Hank appeared in the doorway, wearing his uniform. “Yes, sir?” he said to Father.

  “Change of plans, Hank,” Father said. “Beth and—and—”

  “Shannon,” Beth spoke up.

  “Yes, of course, Beth and Shannon will need to go to the train station at daybreak tomorrow,” Father continued.

  Hank flinched. “Beth and Shannon?” he repeated.

  “Yes, they’re returning to England tomorrow evening,” Father said. “It will be a long and grueling day of travel for them, I’m afraid, but at least Kate and Beth will be able to spend today together.”

  A heavy silence hung over us. At last, Beth spoke.

  “Is there nothing else to be done?” she said. “Is there no way I might stay?”

  “No,” Father said, his voice gentle and firm at the same time. “I’m sorry.”

  Beth turned to me. “Then we’d better make the best of it, Kate,” she said, her face stiff with determination. “I only wish . . .”

  “What?” I asked.

  Beth’s smile was sad. “I only wish I’d been able to see you receive the Katherine necklace.”

  “And so you shall.” Great-Grandmother Katherine finally spoke, with a steely glint in her eyes. “We might live by tradition in this family, but we don’t die by it. You won’t be twelve until tomorrow, Kate, but you’ll receive the Katherine necklace at tea today.”

  Despite my sadness, I felt a sudden thrill. “Today?” I asked, hardly daring to believe I’d heard correctly.

  Aunt Katie’s fingers fluttered to the pendant hanging around her neck. “Yes,” she said. “I’ve been looking forward to this since you were born, sweet Kate.”

  After we were excused from breakfast, I took Beth on a tour of Vandermeer Manor. The long, empty corridors were perfect for quiet chats that no one else could hear. On the second floor, we settled ourselves on a plush bench beneath the large picture window that overlooked the ocean. Beth stared at the rolling waves.

  “I had hoped to go to the seashore,” she said wistfully. “I wanted to look out at the waves to see if they were different on this side of the ocean.”

  As her voice trailed off, Beth frowned and leaned closer to the window. I thought at once about the ghost I’d seen. My pulse quickened. “Do you see—is someone out there?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she replied right away. “It’s Shannon! Where is she going?”

  We watched Shannon run from the house.

  “Is she afraid?” I wondered. “She seemed upset when she first heard about the . . . haunting of Vandermeer Manor. Maybe she wants to get away for a spell.”

  Then Shannon turned her head to glance behind her. Who was she running from . . . or to?

  “What is she doing?” Beth asked. Then she leaped off the bench. “Come on,” she cried. “Let’s follow her!”

  We ran through the hall toward the stairs, keeping an eye on Shannon through each window we passed until she disappeared through the hedge that led to the rose garden.

  “Rats,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “We won’t find her now. By the time we get downstairs, who knows where Shannon will be?”

  But Beth didn’t answer me.

  I turned around to see her kneeling next to a door in the wall. With a sinking feeling, I realized exactly where we were.

  “Kate, do you see this?” Beth asked. “It’s a door! This is just how the secret passage looks at Chatswood. Does Vandermeer Manor have a secret passage too?”

  “No, it’s not a secret passage,” I said. “This door leads to the East Wing. It’s closed; we have no need of these rooms. And no one ever goes inside.” I reached for Beth’s hand. “Come. Let’s go down to the rose garden and see if Shannon’s there.”

  Beth’s eyes were shining with excitement. “Kate,” she said urgently. “Why didn’t we think of this sooner?”

  “Think of what?”

  “If no one ever goes in there, it’s the perfect place for me to hide!” she exclaimed. “I won’t have to leave Vandermeer Manor. I won’t have to leave you!”

  “No, Beth,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s a good idea—a great one, even—but there’s something you don’t know about the East Wing.”

  “What’s that?”

  I swallowed hard. “It’s—it’s haunted. There was a . . . a ship’s captain lost at sea, long ago, and his ladylove waits for—”

  Beth’s laughter pealed through the hallway. “Oh, Kate, you goose,” she said. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

  “But everyone says—”

  “I’m not a bit afraid,” Beth said. “And even if your ghost captain and his ladylove did appear before me one day, I would point in the direction of the sea and send them on their merry way.”

  A small flame of hope flickered inside me. “I suppose . . . if you really want to stay . . .”

  “I do,” Beth said firmly. “I absolutely do.”

  “Then it just might work!” I exclaimed. “We would have to . . . tonight, while everyone’s sleeping . . .”

  “I’ll hide away,” Beth finished for me.

  “There will be such a fuss in the morning when nobody can find you! Will you tell Shannon?”

  For the first time, Beth looked troubled. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I trust her, and I know she can keep a secret . . . but if your parents question Shannon, she might tell them everything. Then again, I wouldn’t want her to worry about me.”

  “We don’t have to decide that right now,” I said. “In fact, we’ll need to spend the rest of the day pretending that you’re leaving tomorrow as planned. So act sad!”

  “That won’t be easy,” Beth said with a huge grin.

  “I’ll need to bring you food,” I said thoughtfully. “Mrs. Hastings keeps a close eye on her kitchen, but perhaps I can sneak extra food for you at each meal.”

  “I’m not picky,” Beth assured me. “I don’t care what I have to eat, as long as I stay right here until I’m supposed to leave next month.”

  Scritch. Scritch. Scratch.

  Beth and I stared at each other with wide eyes.

  The noise was coming from behind the door.

  “Did you—” she whispered.

  Scraaaaaaaaaaaaatch.

  I grabbed Beth’s hand. “Run!”

  “It was just a mouse,” Beth whispered as we raced to my room. “I’ve heard them in the walls at Chatswood. They make that noise when they scurry around. And I’m not afraid of mice, either.”

  “If you’re sure,” I whispered back. And then there was nothing more we could say about it, because Nellie was waiting for us.

  “I was just about to send out a search party!” she exclaimed. “Come. We’ve got to get started, as I’ll be attending to you both today.”

  When Beth looked at me with her eyebrows raised, I knew we were thinking the same thing. “Where’s Shannon?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

  Nellie turned away from us as she reached for a hairbrush. “Oh, she’s packing for the journey,” she said—but her voice sounded odd. “She thought you might want to wear your blue taffeta dress to tea, Lady Beth?”

  “Yes, I think that would be lovely,” Beth replied. “Shannon is so stylish. I’d wear anything she suggests.”

  But from the look on Beth’s face, I could tell that she didn’t believe that Shannon was packing.

  Nellie buzzed around as busy as a bee, first helping Beth change into her gown, then helping me with mine. My tea dress was made of white cotton fabric with tiny red dots, trimmed with shiny red ribbons. I even had a m
atching satin hair bow. Beth and I sat close together on the bench in front of my vanity table while Nellie fixed our hair. Try as we might, we couldn’t look sad; every time our eyes met in the mirror, one of us would smile, then the other, and then we would both start giggling so hard that we made it nearly impossible for poor Nellie to attend to her tasks.

  “Please hold still, Miss Kate,” she begged me. “Your hair is not easy to manage under the best of circumstances.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “Straight and slippery—the worst of all worlds.”

  “But that’s what makes it so beautiful,” Beth said. “I’ve never seen such shiny hair.”

  I smiled at my cousin in the mirror and noticed the light dance off her Elizabeth necklace. With a thrill I realized that I had to wait only a little longer for the Katherine necklace to sparkle around my neck.

  “There,” Nellie said at last. “You both look as pretty as a picture.”

  “Thank you, Nellie. Is it time, then?” I asked, feeling all fluttery inside.

  “Yes,” Beth said as she tucked a prettily wrapped present under her arm. “I’m so excited for you!”

  We walked to the dining room, careful not to muss our dresses on the way. Everyone else was assembled—Mother and Father, Aunt Katie and Great-Aunt Kathy, Alfie with dirt smeared on the cuff of his shirt. He’s been busy catching frogs again, I thought.

  And Great-Grandmother Katherine was there, of course. She stood at the front of the room with her hands clasped.

  “Kate,” she said warmly. “The fourth Katherine Vandermeer. The moment you’ve waited for has finally arrived. Come here, dear girl.”

  I walked forward to join my great-grandmother. When I reached the front of the room, Aunt Katie rose with a velvet box in her hands.

  “The time has come for the Katherine necklace to grace another,” Aunt Katie announced. “As part of this tradition, with a heart full of love for my dear niece, I return the Katherine necklace to its original owner.”

  Great-Grandmother Katherine took the jewelry box from Aunt Katie and held up the Katherine necklace. Suddenly, I saw it with new eyes: the graceful swoops of the half-heart pendant dangling from a delicate chain; the rubies, sparkling with fiery light; the warm glow of the gold.