Rose on Wheels

by Lucia Masciullo

  Rose wanted to throw her arms around him and give him a big hug, but he stood so stiffly, his mouth in a tight line, that she knew he’d just push her away. ‘That’s not fair. You should tell Father.’

  ‘What good would that do?’ Edward said. ‘He’d just tell me to stand up for myself. How am I supposed to do that? There are four of them, and they’re all bigger than me! A ragged sob burst from Edward and he turned and ran, leaving Rose to sink back to her seat, feeling sick with worry.

  No wonder Edward said that he hated school. Perhaps that was why he was so mean to her? How dreadful he must feel, scared to go to school in case he was beaten up. She had to do something to help him! But what?

  ROSE put her box away, bent to gather up Edward’s bat and ball, and headed back to the house. As she passed the stables, Tommy’s chirpy voice came from the doorway. ‘Do you play cricket?’

  Rose turned. ‘Yes, but only when Mother can’t see me.’

  ‘How about a quick hit then?’ he asked. ‘I’ll let you bat first. You don’t play like a girl, do you?’

  Rose tried not to grin. ‘Well, I’m trying to get better. I’ll bowl first.’

  Down on the back lawn, as Tommy helped Rose put the wickets in, he said, ‘I saw Master Edward just now. He’s got himself a real shiner.’

  ‘Yes,’ Rose said. ‘Some boys at his school are bullying him.’

  ‘He should give them a thick ear. That’d soon fix’em.’

  Rose sighed. ‘I don’t believe he knows how. He’s never fought anyone before – well, not that I know of. I feel so sorry for him, but I’m not sure what to do.’

  ‘Yer a girl,’ Tommy said. ‘You can’t do nothing. But John used to be a boxer. He could show Mr Edward a trick or two, I reckon.’

  ‘Really?’ Rose thought for a moment. ‘But Edward’s so stubborn. He’d say no if we suggested it.’

  ‘Well, if you want, just ask John.’ He gripped Edward’s bat, banging it on the ground. ‘Ready when you are.’

  Rose rolled the ball in her fingers, then gripped it with her right hand and ran up to bowl. The ball curved through the air, dropped, bounced and Tommy hit it, only just connecting with the side of the bat. It spun off under the bush nearby.

  Tommy’s eyes were popping. ‘Cor, you’re really good! Where did you learn to do that?’

  Rose shrugged. ‘Father took us to a few cricket matches, and I watched how they did it. Then I tried it at home with Edward. It’s not that hard when you see how the bowlers hold their fingers around the ball.’

  ‘You’re better than any boy I know,’ Tommy said.

  ‘Really?’ Rose blushed with pride and embarrassment.

  ‘You should come and play with me and me mates one day,’ Tommy said. ‘We have a bash at the park on Sundays.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Rose sighed. ‘If my mother even knew I was playing with you now, she’d be angry with me.’ She thought Tommy might tease her about that, but he just nodded.

  ‘Well, you are a lady, and shouldn’t be playing with the likes of me, I guess.’

  ‘But —’ Rose stopped. She wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter, that they could be friends and play cricket and do all kinds of things together, even ride bicycles. The truth was, though, that they couldn’t. Not really.

  But she could still sneak out to play with Tommy when Mother wasn’t home. Until a new governess was found, Rose would have plenty of time alone to do as she wished. Mother might try to make her learn French verbs, but she was always out at her meetings these days, and setting schoolwork would be last on her list of important jobs.

  Rose stretched her bowling arm out and flexed her fingers. ‘Ready to be bowled out?’ she said.

  ‘You can try,’ Tommy said, laughing, ‘but I’m wise to you now.’

  Tommy was a much better player than Edward – he watched the ball with sharp eyes and followed it all the way to his bat, and he often hit her balls up and over the flower beds. But Rose also managed to bowl him out three times. Each time, she yelled, ‘How’s that?’ like she’d heard the men players do, and he laughed and bowed and said, ‘Well bowled, Madam.’ He was much more fun than Edward, and his skill meant she had to try even harder to bowl her best spinners.

  Suddenly, John appeared from behind the rose bushes. ‘There you are. Tommy, I’ve got work for you, and Miss Rose, your mother is looking all over.’

  ‘Oh, goodness,’ Rose said. She tried to smooth back her hair and brush down her dress. Her stockings were around her ankles but two quick pulls upwards fixed that. Her cheeks felt hot and sweaty, but maybe she could manage to wash her face and her dirty hands. She said goodbye and ran towards the house, using the back door and the servants’ stairs again – they were very handy! In her bedroom, she tidied herself up, put a horrible bow in her hair that she knew would please Mother, and checked her boots were clean.

  Then, taking a deep breath, she walked slowly down the main staircase and into the drawing room.

  ‘Where were you, Rose?’ Mother said. ‘I’ve been calling for hours.’

  ‘Sorry, Mother.’ Rose sat on the chair by the door.

  Mother put her spectacles on, peered at the piece of paper in her hand, and took them off again. ‘I have a new governess coming on Monday for an interview. If she is suitable, and she certainly has excellent references, then she will start in the position immediately.’ Mother frowned at Rose. ‘Sit up straight, don’t slump like that.’

  Rose did as she was told, sticking out her chin, her face in a scowl. ‘Why can’t I go to school, like Martha?’ she asked. ‘It’s boring learning on my own.’

  ‘I don’t like that so many schools are being run by women like this Vida person,’ Mother said.

  ‘Martha’s school is good,’ Rose said. ‘I could go there. Or I could go to Edward’s school.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ Mother said. ‘Only state schools take both girls and boys.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Now, when this person visits, I expect you to be tidy and wearing one of your new dresses.’ Mother leaned across the table and rang the bell for Sally. ‘I hear that several other families are vying for her as a governess, and if she is as wonderful as it appears, I want her here to teach you. She is an expert in etiquette and the art of conversation.’

  ‘But I can already talk to people,’ Rose said.

  ‘Not in a manner that makes you sound both intelligent and entertaining. You have to remember, Rose, how people judge you on good manners, and how quick they are to form opinions.’

  Rose wrinkled her brow, recalling how Mother had been treated unfairly herself when she was young and in love. Sally came in with the afternoon tea and for once, Rose was allowed to take tea with Mother and eat coconut macaroons and tiny ham sandwiches. After her game of cricket, she was so hungry!

  At dinner that night, Father and Aunt Alice talked all about Adelaide, which made Rose uneasy. Surely Aunt Alice wasn’t going to leave her? As soon as Rose had eaten, she asked to be excused and went upstairs. But for once, books didn’t interest her. IfAunt Alice left, life would be terrible, Rose thought, blinking back tears.

  That Sunday, the family went to church as usual.

  As Rose sat on the hard wooden pew, she imagined herself back in the garden playing cricket. While the minister droned on, she pretended she held a cricket ball in her hand, and tried out new finger positions, wondering how the ball might turn in the air. Next to her, Edward dozed, his head nodding, and Rose’s thoughts turned to Tommy’s suggestion about helping him. But how could she persuade Edward to learn boxing from John? It was such an excellent idea and suddenly Rose knew exactly who to ask for help.

  After Sunday lunch, Aunt Alice excused herself and went out to the verandah to read, and Rose followed her, ready to put her plan to help Edward into action.

  As she listened to Rose’s idea, Aunt Alice frowned. ‘I saw Edward’s black eye but he told me he’d been hit by a cricket ball.’

  ‘We have t
o help him,’ Rose said. ‘He’s so miserable all the time.’

  ‘I’ll need to talk to John first,’ Aunt Alice said. ‘Perhaps he should at least be able to defend himself.’ She smiled. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll find a way.’

  But Rose wanted Edward to start boxing this instant, and then fix those mean boys straight away! Grown-ups seemed to take forever to do anything.

  ON Monday morning, the doorbell rang at eleven o’clock sharp – the governess had arrived. Rose stood at the top of the staircase, listening to murmuring from the drawing room, her arms tightly crossed, her hands clammy. Would this person be better or worse than Miss Parson?

  Just then, Mother came out and saw her. ‘Rose, come along, please. Miss Higginbottom is in the drawing room.’

  Miss Higginbottom’s black hair gleamed like a crow and her dark, stony gaze slid up and down Rose as she entered. She sniffed scornfully.

  ‘Her posture is certainly lacking in grace. And that hair is so … unruly.’

  For the first time in her whole life, Rose saw her mother shrink in front of a servant – but Miss Higginbottom wasn’t acting like a servant or even a governess. She was acting as if she were royalty!

  ‘Rose has been in need of guidance and training for some time,’ Mother said, almost pleading. ‘It’s so difficult to find a governess of the right quality.’

  Miss Higginbottom’s lip curled as she looked Rose up and down again. ‘She’s not wearing gloves. Her hands look quite rough.’

  Rose stared down at her hands – they looked fine to her.

  ‘We do hope you will take the position.’ Now Mother was grovelling! ‘I’m sure you could work wonders with Rose.’

  ‘She needs a miracle,’ Miss Higginbottom said. ‘But I’m sure I could whip her into some semblance of delicacy and charm.’

  Her tone left Rose in no doubt about what that would mean. Life was about to become completely unbearable. Not a moment for cricket or reading exciting books, no tram rides, no riding bicycles, and plenty of punishment.

  Rose stammered, ‘I … I … I think I’m going to be ill.’ She turned and ran up the stairs and down the hallway, hardly seeing where she was going. She banged straight into someone, who caught her by the arms.

  ‘Rose!’ It was Aunt Alice. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Chest heaving, Rose gasped, ‘The new governess is the most horrible, terrible person in the whole world. She’s like a big scary witch.’

  ‘Surely she’s not that bad,’ Aunt Alice said, stroking Rose’s hair.

  ‘She is! She will make my life a misery. I can’t bear it.’

  ‘Come with me and wash your face, and let’s talk.’

  But nothing Aunt Alice said would change Rose’s mind. Miss Higginbottom was her worst nightmare, even worse than a corset.

  ‘Very well,’ Aunt Alice said. ‘I’ll try to persuade your mother to find someone else. Wait here.’

  Rose hunched miserably on her bed. What could Aunt Alice do? Mother was obviously so impressed with Miss Higginbottom that she’d let her do whatever she liked, even if it involved Rose getting a whipping! She couldn’t sit there a moment longer. She crept down the stairs to the sitting-room door. Angry voices could be clearly heard.

  ‘Who do you think you are?’ Mother said. ‘I know what is best for Rose, not you.’

  ‘But Rose is very upset. And this woman will squash her into a mindless ninny.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! This is just like you, Alice, deliberately trying to undermine me for your own benefit.’

  Aunt Alice snapped, ‘This is not about me. This is about what’s best for Rose.’

  ‘You’ve been bent on making trouble since the day you arrived. Keep your interfering nose out!’

  There was a long silence, and Rose held her breath, feeling sick. Something bad was about to happen. Oh, why hadn’t she kept quiet?

  ‘I have had all I can bear from you, Elizabeth.’ Aunt Alice’s voice was quiet but steely. ‘I think I shall take up Vida’s offer and go to Adelaide. Will that make you happy?’

  ‘Ecstatic!’ Mother cried. ‘In fact, I don’t want you under my roof a moment longer than necessary.’

  ‘Fine,’ Aunt Alice said. ‘I’ll leave first thing in the morning.’

  Rose had heard enough. She ran out the front door, around the house and into the garden, down to her secret spot under the willow tree, her mind whirling. It was all her fault, and now things were a hundred times worse. She had to stop Aunt Alice from leaving.

  Why did other people always make decisions about her life, and never ask her? Was this what Aunt Alice meant about voting – that you had a say in what happened to you? Rose ripped fronds from the tree and shredded the leaves, throwing them to the ground. All was lost! Who would listen to her now?

  Martha had another headache, and Rose hated to disturb her.

  A thought struck her. What about Father? He adored Aunt Alice and would hate for her to leave. Father had listened to Rose before, and he had helped her. But if Rose waited until he came home in the evening, Mother would take over like she always did. Rose wouldn’t have a chance to explain properly. She needed to talk to him somewhere on his own.

  Then Rose had a daring idea. What if she went into the city and visited Father at the Emporium? She would need to get there and back before anyone noticed she was gone. Perhaps if she left this instant …? Yes, that was it!

  But how could she get to the city? It was too far to walk, and she’d never be allowed to take a carriage. There was the tram, of course, but the nearest stop was more than a mile away.

  And then it came to her – Aunt Alice’s bicycle! If only she were better at riding it. She’d had just the one lesson but Tommy had insisted that all she needed was practice.

  Back in the house, Rose discovered that Mother had already gone out for most of the afternoon.

  ‘A luncheon at St Kilda. She’ll be back at three,’ Sally said. ‘Are you all right, Miss Rose?’

  ‘l’ll be better soon,’ Rose called as she sprinted up the stairs. The first thing she needed was trousers. Her skirt and petticoats were a nuisance and made it too hard to sit on the seat properly. In Edward’s room, she tried on a pair of tweed trousers that was too big, but she grabbed one of his belts and pulled it tight. He had such useful clothes! She put on an old jacket that almost fitted, and stuffed her hair under a cap. As she passed the mirror, she laughed out loud.

  There was no time to lose. She bolted down the servants’ stairs and ran to the stables, brushing the dust off the bicycle saddle and wheeling it outside.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Tommy’s voice made her jump and she lost her grip on the handlebars. It fell sideways and he ran over to help her. ‘Why are you dressed like that?’

  ‘I’m going to ride Aunt Alice’s bicycle, all the way into the city,’ Rose said. ‘And you can’t stop me.’

  ‘Why couldn’t you wait and go shopping with your mother?’

  ‘I’m not going shopping!’ She saw the hurt look on his face. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. But it’s important. I have to talk to my father, right now.’

  ‘It’s a long way,’ Tommy said. ‘You haven’t even ridden past the garden.’

  ‘Well … no, but it’s urgent. I have to go now, before Mother comes back.’ She huffed out a breath. ‘Are you going to help me or not?’

  ‘I suppose I’d better,’ Tommy said. ‘Here, give me the bicycle. You can’t ride it on the cobblestones, they’re too uneven. We’ll take it out onto the road.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’ Rose swallowed hard and followed him around the side of the house. The road. Where everyone could see her. What if she fell off?

  No, I won’t fall off! She gritted her teeth. I won’t. That’s all there is to it. I can’t.

  Once past the front gate, the road was steep, dipping down and then rising up again. She remembered that the other side of the hill was a long slope down – that would be easier. If she couldn’t get up the first bit, she�
��d have to walk and push the bike.

  ‘I can do it,’ she muttered.

  ‘Right, then,’ Tommy said. ‘Ready?’

  Her stomach clenched in a huge knot, but she reached for the handlebars. ‘Ready.’

  Tommy helped her climb on, and her feet just reached the pedals. ‘I’ll get you started and then you have to keep pedalling. If you stop, don’t forget to put your feet down.’

  ‘Yes, fine! Just push me off. Please hurry!’

  He kept hold of the bike, guiding it, running alongside until she’d got up enough speed and started pedalling. He let go and immediately she wobbled.

  ‘Hold it straight,’ Tommy yelled.

  She forced the handlebars straight, her arms rigid, and almost forgot to pedal, then gradually her feet remembered the rhythm and she was away.

  ‘Thanks, Tommy!’ she called.

  She made it up the first slope, and at the top, she took a deep breath and launched off again, coasting downhill.

  Sweat coated the back of her neck and she was glad of the cap holding her hair up. The bicycle picked up speed – one moment it was still wobbling slightly, the next the hill had taken it and sent it shooting forward. Rose gripped the handlebars, the metal cold and slimy against her palms. The world spun past, faster and faster, trees a blur of green, the air whistling past her ears. She splattered through a pile of fresh horse dung, smelling it briefly, heavy and earthy, before it was gone.

  ‘Oy, watch out!’ a buggy driver shouted at her. His horse loomed, eyes rolling. She wrenched the bike to one side with a loud gasp and skimmed past, hearing a panicked snort from the horse. Wind battered against her skin, her nose was a point of ice, her fingers numb. She caught glances of astonished faces, heard someone yell, ‘Stop that boy!’

  Then she reached the bottom of the hill and started up the other side. Despite her pedalling, the bicycle began to slow, its wheels creaking. The world stopped being a blur and became fences and bushes and road again. At last, the bicycle came to a stop and Rose was so relieved that she forgot to put her feet down and it toppled sideways, dumping her into the dust.