by Brown, T. J.
Cristobel climbed up the gate to get better access to her horse, no doubt forgetting about her newly remade dress. She didn’t look at Rowena, but she could tell that the girl was listening intently.
“I let myself be paralyzed by grief, and someone I love ended up being hurt because of it . . . ” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard.
“Why are you telling me this?” Cristobel asked, her voice low.
Rowena walked over to the stall next to Grenadine’s where a pretty chestnut mare stood quietly. “I don’t know. Maybe to let you know that other people have suffered and felt the whole world shift, too.”
“It’s different,” Cristobel whispered fiercely. “Your father didn’t want to leave you. Mine killed himself.”
She kept her face away from Rowena, and Rowena knew the girl was crying.
“I know what it’s like to be angry with him for leaving,” Rowena said.
Cristobel wiped the tears from her face and turned back to Rowena. “Will you really take me hunting this summer?”
Rowena smiled and held out her hand. “Of course. When I’m not flying, that is.”
Cristobel picked up the lantern and they exited the barn. The chill darkness hit Rowena and she shivered. Cristobel latched the barn door behind them.
“Is Jon really teaching you how to fly an aeroplane?”
Rowena tilted her head back and looked at the stars in the winter sky. “Yes. Soon I’ll be able to fly in the sky all by myself.” She smiled. “I can’t wait for that day.”
CHAPTER
TEN
Prudence hung her husband’s shirt up to dry on a line strung from one end of the cellar to the other. She shared the cellar with the four other families who rented rooms above the greengrocer and the hardware shop. Only on Tuesdays was Prudence able to come down here and do her washing.
A large basin split into two separate sinks sat in the back of the cellar under the one dingy window. Attached to the rim of the divider was a hand-turned wringer that in theory was supposed to wring the soap and dirt out of the clothing, but in reality did neither very well. Prudence had developed a rash after wearing underthings washed in the cheap laundry soap she had bought, and now she had to do all her finer clothes in the bathroom basin upstairs.
The cellar itself was a place from hell where Prudence imagined rats made their home, though she hadn’t seen evidence of them. One of the tenants kept the basement, the stairs, and the hallway clean in exchange for a rent deduction, and whoever it was seemed to be fairly conscientious about it. It wasn’t the filth that sent shivers up her spine, it was the lack of light and having only one way in and out. If there were a fire . . . Prudence shuddered and picked up her pace. Because of the boiler that heated the entire building, the cellar was warm enough, and in the winter the clothing dried fairly quickly. In the summer, she would no doubt join the rest of the East End and use the ropes and pulleys that ran out her bedroom window to a wall on the other side of the street. If she weren’t so conscious of every penny she spent, she would splurge and buy herself one of those new electric machines that emptied in the sink.
She wasn’t the only one conscious of their money. It had become an obsession with Andrew to see how little of her money they actually had to use. She put her foot down when he wanted to work an extra day a week. “You need the time to study,” she told him firmly, and he had to concede that she was right.
Prudence filled the right sink with water and then carefully measured out the bluing Muriel had given her to whiten their whites. She sprinkled it into the water and then added their sheets and Andrew’s undershirts. Because of the cheap laundry soap, the sheets had taken on a dingy, yellow cast. She would let them soak for a bit to get them really white. Rubbing her lower back, she carried the load she’d just wrung to the line and hung it up. Then she took the basket upstairs with her. She had lost her first basket after leaving it down here, and though no one admitted to taking it, she knew it had to be someone who had a key. By unwritten rule, the clothing was never touched, but anything else was fair game.
Prudence let herself into her flat, ready for a cup of tea. Andrew was home today, working in the front room, where she had made him a makeshift desk. The little desk in the bedroom was too close to the bed, he told her. It was too tempting to set down his books and crawl in for a cozy nap. This afternoon, he would go work for an hour with Professor Gilcrest, a retired professor from Cambridge, who now made extra money tutoring people in his King’s Cross flat. Prudence put the water on for tea and checked her supplies. They had leftover ginger biscuits from her last attempt at baking and some bread that she had bought down the street, having decided that her skills weren’t up to bread yet. Muriel, as encouraging as she had been, agreed. So bread and butter and biscuits for tea would be good.
She poked her head through the sitting room doorway. Andrew was sitting in his chair with his stocking feet propped up on the window seat, reading a book on animal husbandry. After spending so much of his time in livery, he loved having his own home, where he could dress as he pleased, and usually padded around in trousers, stockings, and an undershirt. He could still be dressed nicely at a moment’s notice, but he was like a big child about being informal. Prudence, having rarely seen Sir Philip in anything more casual than a smoking jacket and then only on special occasions like Christmas morning, thought it one of the most endearing things about her rather shy husband. “Would you like your tea now?”
He glanced up, his reading spectacles low on his nose. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
She pulled out the bread and then paused at a knock on the door. She wondered whether she’d imagined the sound. Katie had only been over once and they had yet to make any friends in London.
When she answered the door after a second knock, she froze, unsure of whether to cry out or just cry. Victoria stood in front of her, wearing a beautiful black Diane coat and small toque with almost an entire bird’s worth of black feathers. Her hands were pressed in front of her and her blue eyes were filled with both joy and trepidation, as if she were deeply unsure of how she would be received. Katie stood behind her, grinning.
“Miss Victoria wasn’t sure you would want to see her, but I saw how the three of you doted on one another and knew you wouldn’t be able to resist, no matter what sort of water has gone under the bridge.”
And Katie was right. Prudence’s heart surrendered moments before her arms opened wide to receive her friend. Victoria rushed into them and Prudence gathered her close. How could she have thought that she could live without Victoria? Even though a scant two years separated them, Victoria had been almost a child to Prudence, who watched over Victoria’s flights of fancy when she was young with a certain sense of awe.
Prudence remembered too late all the stories she had told Susie concerning her home and way of living. She just couldn’t imagine letting anyone at Summerset know how different her new life was. Did Victoria expect a glamorous flat? Servants? Prudence hid her laundry-reddened hands behind her back. “Welcome to my home,” she said in as dignified a manner as she could manage. Perhaps Susie hadn’t mentioned her foolish stories to Victoria. And if she had, there was nothing she could do about it now.
“What are you doing in town?” Prudence asked as Victoria and Katie entered the flat.
“Oh, there’s so much to tell you! I came here to be a writer for a botanist magazine and instead have secured a position as a clerk and spokeswoman for the Suffragettes for Female Equality!”
Prudence took Victoria and Katie’s coats. She couldn’t take her eyes off the young woman standing in front of her, looking very adult in a zebra-striped street dress hemmed just above the ankles and leaving the bottom of the skirt split for six inches up the front. When did Victoria grow up so? “But how did this all come about? Does Rowena know what you’re doing, because I know your aunt Charlotte can’t approve . . . ”
Victoria waved her hand. “Oh, pooh! I want to know about you. There’s
plenty of time for me later.”
Prudence noticed Victoria looking around the flat, with wide curious eyes and flushed. Her home suddenly looked so small and shabby. “I’m just making tea,” she told them. “Please join us.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t want to be an imposition,” Victoria said, taking a seat at the table. “Oh, look! You’re using our old gaming table as a dining table. How clever!”
Prudence’s cheeks heated further. If only she hadn’t spent the last two months lying, she could enjoy having Victoria here instead of wondering how much Susie had told her.
Katie handed her a box she’d been holding. “Mum sent us over with sponge cake.” She smiled. “I don’t think she thought you would have anything to feed us, though she does say you’re making progress.”
Prudence frowned and made a motion with her head toward the front room. “Andrew’s here and he doesn’t know I’m taking lessons on how to run a house,” she whispered.
“You’re what?” Victoria asked, her voice rising in astonishment. “Whatever for? Why don’t you just hire a servant or two for goodness’ sake?”
Prudence bit her lip and, without answering, opened the box and took out a perfectly baked cake swirled with pink French cream frosting.
Victoria groaned. “That looks delicious!”
“I’ll never be able to bake like this.” Prudence shook her head, relieved that Victoria had been sidetracked. “Just when I think I’m making progress, I see this and realize I’ve got so much to learn.”
Prudence fetched plates and called Andrew in to tea. His eyes widened. “I was so lost in my book, I didn’t even hear the door,” he said. “Oh, look at that cake!”
“Katie brought it for us,” Prudence said. “This is Katie, a dear friend of mine, and of course you know Victoria.” To Prudence’s surprise, Victoria and Andrew greeted each other coolly, almost formally. She wondered whether the sense of class was so strong that they would never become friends, or whether it was something else. Victoria was anything but class-conscious.
A quiet settled over the table where there had been chatter before. Prudence cut the cake and handed a plate to everyone. There weren’t enough chairs at the table, so Andrew moved to the oversized, ugly plaid chair near the stove. “This is my favorite seat anyway,” he said, giving Prudence a grin. She blushed, remembering their first night here alone.
“I simply can’t believe you don’t have any help, Prudence,” Victoria said, after taking a bite of her cake.
“Oh, pooh,” Prudence said, embarrassed by Victoria’s blunt way of speaking. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after Andrew and myself.”
“Wouldn’t you rather be teaching French or piano than trying to learn how to do laundry and roast a goose or whatever things you have never known how to do?”
“Victoria!” Prudence groaned, and put her hands over her face.
“You don’t know how to do laundry?” Andrew asked, his expression shocked. Prudence froze, realizing that she had been caught in her lie. She slowly shook her head.
“Why on earth would you hide that from me? I could have taught you.” The betrayal and hurt in his voice pierced her heart and she wished Victoria would just hold her tongue. But then, Victoria wasn’t known for her discretion.
Prudence gave Andrew a weak smile. “It was nothing, really. And Victoria, I don’t want to teach lessons to other people’s children. I love what I’m doing.”
Victoria’s face fell. “All right then.” She brightened. “Oh, I have a better idea! Why don’t you ask Susie to visit? She could at least help you settle in!”
This was a disaster. Victoria had created a disaster. Prudence didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But Victoria had one thing right. She would love for Susie to come visit. With Andrew gone so frequently, the thought of having company made her smile with relief. She needed to start Victoria on another subject to allow Andrew enough time to ponder the notion of a houseguest. He wasn’t one to make rash decisions. Marrying her was probably the hastiest move he had ever made.
“You still haven’t told me about the job!” Prudence said.
Victoria grinned and Prudence knew Victoria well enough to know that trouble was coming. “Well, as I said, I’m working for the Suffragettes for Female Equality. For the moment, they want me to compile a list of women’s emergency services so we don’t get too scattered. For instance, right now, we’re not only trying to gain women the vote and educate women so we know how to fight for our own rights, but we are trying to help women who need jobs find safe nurseries for their babies, and help abused women get away from the men who hurt them. Trying to find money to pay for rent so people don’t end up in the workhouses is a constant battle. But all of these things take time and resources away from our original intention, so I’m compiling a list of groups that help women besides us, so we can narrow our focus to the vote for now.”
Victoria finished her speech with a flashing smile and dug back into her cake as if she had said nothing astonishing. Prudence had always been amazed by Victoria’s ability to speak her mind without holding anything back, but this was the first time Prudence was left without a response.
She glanced at Katie, who smiled as if this were all very normal, and then at her husband, who kept eating his cake, a surprised smile playing about his lips.
“Well, that’s nice,” she finally said.
“Nice?” Victoria waved her cup in the air. “It’s more than nice, it’s stupendous! I think I will be wonderful at it and I am finally doing more than changing my clothes for tea. I’ve been longing to do something important my whole life, and this may be it, this may be my chance.”
Katie giggled at that and Prudence gave a tentative smile. “How long have you been dissatisfied with your life? You’ve never said anything before.”
Katie and Victoria both laughed this time. “I was taking a secretarial course before Father died. Katie and I both were.”
Prudence’s brows rose. “I had no idea.”
“Well, back then, I was doing it in order to help Father with his work. I always thought I would be a botanist like Father. Or maybe write like one.” Victoria chewed on her thumb and a shadow crossed her pretty face. “But I can’t be a botanist until women have the right to work in any field they choose. Then I met a friend of a friend, Martha Long, who is the head of this small organization, and suddenly I found not only a job but a mission, a real purpose.”
Victoria picked up her cake and began eating again, but her enthusiasm had dimmed considerably. Prudence’s heart constricted. Whatever had hurt Victoria had gone deep, and Prudence hadn’t been there to help her at all. But then, maybe it was better that way? Look how grown-up Victoria had become.
Andrew stood abruptly and put his plate and cup in the sink. “I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat, ladies, but I have an appointment.”
“He works with a maths tutor twice a week,” Prudence explained, pride in her voice. “He is studying to take the Royal Veterinary College examinations this spring.”
Andrew gave her a grateful look as he went back into the bedroom to finish dressing. He nodded to everyone as he left and Prudence turned to Victoria.
“You still haven’t told me what your aunt Charlotte or Rowena have said about this new venture.”
“Well, they don’t know yet,” Victoria explained patiently, as if talking to a child. “I just got the position. I’ve only worked at it for a couple of days. Martha knows I don’t live in London, but I can work from Summerset until I move back to London.”
Something struck Prudence. “You’ve been staying with Katie?”
“The last few days, yes,” Victoria said.
Katie caught Prudence’s thought immediately. “Now don’t be angry with Ma for not telling you. Victoria said she wanted to surprise you and see you face-to-face. Surely this was better, right?”
Prudence’s eyes filled with tears and Victoria was next to her in a moment.
“Don’t cry, da
rling Prudence. I missed you, too. Let’s not worry about the past anymore, all right?”
Prudence sniffled. “That’s easy for you to say,” she said, thinking of Rowena.
Katie produced a handkerchief for Prudence. Prudence blew her nose and then rested her head against Victoria’s shoulder. For the first time Victoria’s arms felt strong and comforting around her, as if she could lean into them. There was so much she wanted to tell her, but it was all tangled up inside.
“So what do you think about my idea?”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Prudence said. “Do you think your aunt will actually let Susie come?”
Victoria wiped her eyes and resumed her seat. “I will work on her. I’m pretty persistent.”
Prudence narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “So when and what are you going to tell Rowena and your aunt?”
Victoria shifted in her seat as if she were suddenly sitting on a cushion of rocks. “I’m not sure I am,” she said. “I’m fairly certain it will be far more trouble than it’s worth. So I think I will keep it my little secret. I’ve been told we are all coming here for Easter anyway. I will simply visit all of my friends until then.”
Prudence looked away. Rowena had kept telling her that if she could just hang on until Easter, life would go back to normal. And then she’d discovered that Rowena had been lying the entire time. Tears rose up again, but Prudence blinked them back fiercely. She had cried enough over Rowena’s betrayal. She would waste no more tears on her.
“When are you going home?” she asked.
“Tomorrow.” Once again, a shadow crossed her face, but Prudence didn’t ask about it. Somehow this new Victoria was much more intimidating than the old one had been, and Prudence guessed it would be a bit until they fell into their old patterns. If they ever did. Perhaps Victoria had grown beyond them.