Song of Songs

by Song of Songs (retail) (epub)

  I wore my badge of shame all week, until it was time to visit Grandmama; then she took it off. I sang to Grandmama that afternoon, but my voice felt rusty and strange.

  Robbie hardly ever spoke now, and when he did he stammered. Mamselle mimicked him, and laughed in his face until he cried, then she would proclaim triumphantly: ‘Robert is a coward, a coward. Helene is a liar, Robert is a coward - and what are you, Edwin?’ Eddie looked back at her with hatred in his eyes, but he dared not speak. ‘I think you are a coward also, Edwin, are you not?’ And she laughed.

  One morning Robbie had wet his bed. ‘Dirty boy, dirty, dirty boy! You smell, how you smell!’ His eyes were wide and frightened - and despairing. At the breakfast table he put forward one small, trembling hand, then withdrew it. He had forgotten which was his right and his left again. He did not dare pick up his mug or his spoon; he stared helplessly at his milk and his porridge, unable to touch them. And she laughed. I lowered my eyes and gripped my own spoon until it hurt.

  We were set to our endless copying. Robbie seized the pencil - he did not dare do otherwise - and the ruler descended. She laughed as he fumbled desperately for the pencil, and knocked it so that it rolled off the table on to the floor. She did not seem to care about me and Eddie now: it was Robbie she watched, like a fat dark bird, ready to swoop and peck and destroy… And as I watched the ruler hang poised to slash down again. I was off my chair and running round the table, and I caught the hand with the ruler and held it back with all my strength. And she laughed her ugly screeching laugh and with her other hand she seized the fold of Robbie’s soft neck and began to pinch and twist until his breath came in short hunted gasps - and all the while her bulging black eyes jeered at me. So I bent my head and sank my teeth deep into her mottled brown hand until I hit bone, and hung on.

  She prised my jaws apart at last. My hot anger had fled now, I was cold and shaking, I knew I had done a terrible thing. She wrenched me forward by the arm and dragged me out of the room.

  I stumbled on the stairs, and began to fall, but she hauled me up. She pulled me on, opening doors, looking in, then slamming them shut again - until she came to Mama’s bedroom. Then it was the big wooden cupboards she was opening, one after the other, until I heard her grunt of triumph - she had found what she was looking for. It was Mama’s furs which filled the cupboard; her fat hand began to rifle through them. Then she pulled one out; I cringed back from the sharp pointed teeth, bared in a snarl. Hard shiny eyes winked evilly at me.

  ‘You bit me, Helene, you dared to use your teeth on me, like a lee tie animal. Now here is a leetle animal which will bite you.’ She thrust the head suddenly forward; I cowered back, eyes fixed on the wicked little snout.

  ‘I will put you in the cupboard, Helene, and I will place my leetle animal over your head - oh so gently will I hang him over you, ready to pounce. And if you move, if you make one tiny, tiny little move - then he will bite you!’

  I tried to pull back, but she was too strong for me: she thrust me contemptuously forward into the soft menacing darkness. I tumbled on to the wooden floor.

  ‘He is there above you, Helene, waiting for you.’ The door shut with a click and I heard the key turn as I crouched in rigid terror.

  Time passed, but I dared not move: fear held me fixed and still. My knees began to hurt, my legs throbbed, but I dared not move. I must not move. My eyelids drooped in the darkness - I felt my body about to jerk forward – I panicked as I fought to control it. Something shifted above me, I froze - and crouched grimly on. I had forgotten everything now, my brothers, the schoolroom, even Mamselle had receded and left me - alone in the darkness with the terror above my head. I had to stay still, I must stay still. But the insistent pressure in my belly was growing: it mounted and mounted, it was a pain now. I knew, dully, that further disgrace was about to befall me. I must not - but I could hold out no longer; the warm liquid began to run down my legs as the tears of shame trickled down my cheeks. Motionless, I began to sob.

  There was a loud bang outside, I jumped - I had moved! The furs above me slithered; I waited in terror for the sharp teeth to meet in my helpless neck.

  Then I heard the voice, a high-pitched: ‘It’s a mouse, I swear it’s a mouse - I’m feared o’ mices.’

  There was a low reply - and the key began to turn. I screwed my eyes up in pain and fear as light flooded in, but I did not move.

  ‘Whatever - it’s Lady Helena!’

  Dimly I recognized Jem’s voice - but I was beyond reason now: terror held me fixed. I felt a hand on my shoulder, but as it touched me the furs shifted and I opened my eyes wide and saw the evil pointed teeth swooping down on me and now I screamed and screamed and threw myself back into the corner of the cupboard. I could not look away from the sharp animal teeth and the vicious blinking eyes.

  Then a large hand reached out and covered the face and snatched it away from me. It was thrown down outside and and Jem cried out: ‘Look, Lady Helena!’ And I saw his large boot come down hard on to the evil little head and grind it into the carpet. My rigid legs gave way, I fell in a heap on the cupboard floor, and feeling the damp wood was engulfed in shame.

  ‘You’ll catch it when her ladyship gets back and sees what you done to her necktie, Jem Barnett.’ The maid’s voice was shrill. ‘And look what she’s been up to in there - all among my lady’s furs!’

  My cheeks burned. I turned my face away.

  ‘Sod ’er necktie, and sod ’er furs! It’ll serve ’er right for engaging a bitch like that “Mamselle”!’ He spat the word. ‘Ena’s been worried sick these past weeks, the way she’s always going for the littl’uns.’

  The maid said, ‘Well, she’ll go for ’em even more now, her wetting ’er drawers like that.’

  I began to shake.

  Jem was shouting. ‘I’ll be damned if she gets ’er ’ands on ’er again!’ Then his voice came very close to my ear. ‘Come along sweetheart, come to old Jem, then.’ But I was too ashamed to move. I hid my face. ‘Now, now, anyone’d ’ave a little accident, shut up all this time, ’tis only natural. Come along then.’

  His warm, sweaty, comforting body came closer and closer, and at last I turned and flung my arms round his neck. My head buried itself under his chin as I clung desperately to him. I was safe now, I would never let go.

  I felt his body jolting as he carried me downstairs, and I clung even tighter. Dimly I heard Mrs Hill’s voice; she tried to coax me from Jem’s arms, but I would not let go. At last we set off again: limpet-like I clung to my rock. There was the jingle of harness and I knew Jem and I were in the governess cart; I could hear Mrs Hill’s voice, giving orders to the groom. I heard the ‘Whoa’ as the cart pulled up, then Jem was carrying me carefully down the steps and crunching across gravel.

  Doors opened and closed; we were inside again, but still I hung on Jem’s neck. It was Grandmama who was speaking now; Jem’s replies resounded angrily in my ear, but the anger was not for me.

  ‘Helena, Helena.’ My arms tightened as Grandmama addressed me. I kept my face hidden. ‘Put her down.’ Jem tried to ease my arms apart, but I would not let go. Then Grandmama spoke to me again, slowly and sternly, ‘Helena, unclasp your hands, I order you.’

  Slowly my aching fingers disentangled themselves, and Jem put me gently down on the carpet. I swayed against him, and gripped the thick cloth of his trouser leg. I felt his reassuring hand touch my shoulder, and at last I raised my eyes to Grandmama’s ivory face.

  ‘Helena, why did Mademoiselle shut you in the cupboard?’

  At last I whispered, ‘Because - because I bit her.’

  ‘I see. And why did you bite her, Helena?’

  Tears filled my eyes. ‘Robbie, she hurt Robbie. She hit Eddie and she hurt Robbie.’ Grandmama’s face was impassive. Desperately I said again, ‘She hurt him, she hurt him.’

  It was Jem who spoke for me. ‘My lady, Ena, the nursemaid, said as how she seemed to turn against Master Robbie - she wouldn’t leave ’im alone. �
��E’s lefthanded, you see, and a bit slower, so she tormented ’im.’

  I trembled in gratitude against Jem’s warm leg, and nodded speechlessly.

  Grandmama murmured to Mrs Hill; Mrs Hill rustled to the door and left us.

  Then Grandmama turned back to me. She spoke slowly and clearly, ‘Helena, young ladies do not bite.’ I stared dumbly back at her. ‘I have sent for Mademoiselle, when she comes you must apologize to her, do you understand?’

  I sagged helplessly against Jem’s leg. Grandmama told him to fetch me a footstool; I sat crouched on it, staring at the fat red rose on the carpet, the smell of my soiled drawers filling my nostrils. I was beyond tears now.

  At last Mrs Hill came back - with Mamselle. Her cheekbones were an angry red, but she bobbed politely to Grandmama.

  ‘Lady Helena wishes to apologize to you, Mademoiselle Vigot.’

  My eyes fixed on the swollen red rose, I managed to whisper, ‘I’m sorry, I - I bit you, Mamselle.’ And waited, hopelessly. I could feel her sneer of triumph.

  But Grandmama spoke again: ‘We will not require your services any longer, Mademoiselle. My butler will give you a month’s salary in lieu of notice. That will be all.’

  I could not believe it. Mamselle spoke angrily. ‘It was Lady Pickering who engaged me - if she is satisfied…’

  Grandmama raised her hand. Mamselle’s voice stopped, abruptly. ‘My daughter-in-law may be satisfied, but I am not. I will inform my son of your departure. Mrs Hill, please see that Mademoiselle’s belongings are packed and sent down. She will be spending tonight at the Dower House. Tell the nursemaid to sleep with the children.’

  As soon as we were in the governess cart again I climbed on to Jem’s lap and he rocked me to sleep against his chest.

  Ena’s gentle hands undressed me, and as she took off my smelly drawers she gave me a warm hug of forgiveness. Washed and clean again, I was led through to the night nursery and tucked up in bed with a whispered: ‘Don’t wake your brothers, now.’ But I knew they were not asleep.

  As soon as the door closed Eddie whispered, ‘Hellie?’

  I pushed back the bedclothes and crept over between their beds. ‘She’s gone, she’s gone - Grandmama sent her away.’

  Robbie began to whimper.

  ‘Don’t cry, Robbie. She won’t come back ever again.’ I pulled back the sheet and climbed into his bed. Putting my arms round his small, shaking body I held him tight. After a moment Eddie’s feet pattered over the floor, his arms came round my neck and his warm damp cheek pressed against my back. And so we fell asleep, together.

  Chapter Six

  Mamselle had gone, but still Robbie did not speak, and every time the nursery door opened his body froze. All day he sat crouched, waiting, like a small frightened animal. Eddie fetched box after box of gaily painted soldiers and tipped them out at his feet: ‘All Robbie’s, all Robbie’s.’ Robbie tentatively put out one hand, then the other; both began to shake and he pulled them quickly back as though he had been stung. Ena picked him up and sat him on her lap; his head lolled against her shoulder, his face set and still.

  At teatime Ena held the cup to Robbie’s lips, but he turned his head away. Ena’s face was pale and anxious; Eddie and I watched dumbly, frightened. When the door clicked behind me I thought it was Rose; I did not even glance up until Robbie began to cry great, heaving sobs. I looked up, startled - and there was Nanny. Still in her coat and hat she limped painfully over to Robbie and held out her arms to him; he flung himself into them, and clung to her, sobbing, sobbing. Eddie and I scrambled down and threw ourselves against her safe, camphor-scented body, and wept with Robbie.

  Robbie would not let her go. He screamed when she tried to put him in the bath that evening, so she washed him on her lap like a baby. That night, when the small snarling animal came to bite me again and I screamed, it was Nanny’s calm voice which woke me. ‘There, there, Lady Helena - you must be a good brave girl now, so as not to wake your brother.’ And in the glimmer of the night light I saw Robbie, still fastened to her neck as she lay in bed. I dropped back on my pillow, shaking a little; but I would be a brave girl - now Nanny was back.

  For days Robbie clung to her, while Eddie and I played at her feet, or squabbled over the small piece of her lap left over from our brother. Jem brought a strange little bowl with a spout, and while we sat at the table and ate our bread and jam, Robbie slowly sucked from the spout, his head pressed into Nanny’s swelling bosom. As he slept, Nanny spoke quietly: ‘Remember that, Ena, when you’ve a place of your own - a child who won’t eat’ll often take nourishment at the breast—’tis only natural. A nice fresh egg beaten in milk, with a touch of brandy and sugar, that’s the thing.’ She sighed, and gendy stroked Robbie’s dark head as he snuffled in his sleep and pressed closer. ‘But oh, Ena, I never thought the day would come when I’d have to let my own flesh and blood go into the workhouse infirmary - it fair broke my heart, it did - but when I got her ladyship’s letter, what could I do?’

  I looked up, to see two large tears trickle slowly down Nanny’s red-veined cheeks. Nanny crying! The world would never be the same again.

  Robbie was still clinging to Nanny when Grandmama came up to the nursery. Her breath came in short harsh gasps, and she leant heavily on her stick and on Mrs Hill’s arm. Ena rushed forward with a chair, and Grand- mama dropped stiffly down on to it.

  ‘Sit down, Mrs Whitmore, I’m sure the child is heavy.’ She spoke slowly: ‘Children, a new governess will be coming next week.’ Eddie and I reached for each other’s hands. ‘She is a very kind lady.’ She emphasized each word. Robbie’s face was white and Eddie looked as doubtful as I felt.

  He said suspiciously, ‘Nanny go?’

  ‘Certainly not, Mrs Whitmore will not be leaving you again. Nanny will stay in the nursery; Miss Ling will take you up to the schoolroom for a few hours each day.’ We stood mute and apprehensive. Grandmama said with a note of finality, ‘Miss Ling is an English lady.’ She took hold of the silver knob of her stick, levered herself slowly upright, and limped out.

  When I sang to my brothers that night Robbie’s dark eyes gazed up at me from Nanny’s arms, and as I finished and bent down to kiss him goodnight he gave me a small, sad smile. I felt ten feet tall as Ena lifted me down and led me off to my bed.

  Next morning he slid off Nanny’s lap and walked unsteadily over to where we were playing. We made room for him between us, and Eddie handed him his favourite giraffe. With a shaking left hand Robbie put it carefully inside the Ark.

  One afternoon the new governess arrived. Miss Ling was very tall and broad; the light glinted on her small round spectacles as she bent down to ask us our names. Robbie did not answer, but she seemed not to mind when Eddie spoke for him. She said she would come to fetch us in the morning. Nanny looked after her, frowning.

  We hung back at the schoolroom door, but Miss Ling ushered us firmly in. We sat very still at the hated table while she read us a story about a little girl called Lucy. I did not listen, because my eyes were on the pencils and rulers by her hand.

  She set me to copy, then Eddie; then she held out a pencil to Robbie: he cringed away from it, staring glassyeyed as if at a snake.

  ‘Robbie don’t want to write.’ Eddie was belligerent.

  Miss Ling looked at Eddie silently for a moment, then said, her voice very calm, ‘Perhaps you would like to watch your sister, then, Robbie.’ We breathed out again.

  I had moved on to the hangers when we heard a creaking sound outside the door. Miss Ling looked puzzled. After a few more minutes there was a shuffling noise; she got up, went swiftly to the door and pulled it open. Outside in the corridor bent nearly double, was Nanny! Nanny began to slowly creak upright, her face very red.

  Miss Ling spoke quickly. ‘Why, how nice of you to come along to see us, Mrs Whitmore, the children will be delighted - do come in. Helena, show Mrs Whitmore how neat your copying is.’ Nanny shuffled over to the table, her cheeks still very pink. Miss Ling reach
ed for the bell. ‘There, I’ve rung for our milk and biscuits, you must join us, Mrs Whitmore. Eddie, be a little gentleman and pull up another chair.’

  That afternoon Nanny and Miss Ling took us for a walk. Nanny spoke urgently; Miss Ling nodded as she listened. After we got back in, only Eddie and I returned to the schoolroom; Robbie stayed down in the nursery with Nanny.

  Next day Nanny brought her mending up to the schoolroom and sat by the fire while we did our lessons. Miss Ling said perhaps Robbie would like to help me to write, and his small hot hands clung to mine while I carefully traced pothooks and hangers. That evening I heard Nanny tell Ena that Miss Ling was a lady, ‘Not like most governesses I could mention - I never had any time for that Miss Walker - but Miss Ling is a lady, a real lady.’

  By the time Mama and Papa came back Robbie had learnt to read. And I, I had learnt to play the piano. Miss Ling sat down in front of it one day: her fingers moved quickly over the black and white keys and I heard ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’ - just as Ena and I sang it! It was a miracle. Miss Ling smiled at my amazement and said that I could learn to do the same as her if I were a good girl and worked hard. And just as letters in books made words, so did the little black notes make tunes - and I began to learn their language.

  Now I watched the schoolroom clock every day as I copied, longing for my piano lesson; letters only made words, but notes made tunes. I began to learn the names of the sounds; Miss Ling made me stand with my back to the piano while she pressed a key, and soon I felt the bliss of triumph as I learnt to name each one correctly.

  The leaves were turning golden and swirling in the wind when Mama and Papa came back. Mama came up to the nursery after tea with a tall thin gentleman with fair hair and a drooping moustache. She smiled and said, ‘Children, this is Mr Barbour.’

  The gentleman held out his hand to me, and I shook it, feeling very grown up. He said, ‘We’ve met before, Helena, when you were in your perambulator - I remember that you pulled my moustache until I begged for mercy.’ I blushed.