Emily's Dream

by Jacqueline Pearce

  “I thought I’d left it in the drawing room, but it’s not there.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t have it with you when we went out?” Mrs. Piddington asked.

  “Of course I’m sure. I noticed the case was missing as soon as I went to get a cigarette.” Mr. Piddington sounded annoyed.

  Up in her room, Emily smiled to herself.

  12

  Unease

  “You haven’t seen Mr. Piddington’s cigarette case, have you Emily?” Dede asked the next morning.

  “No.” Emily busied herself buttering a slice of bread and did not meet Dede’s eyes.

  After breakfast, Dede drove the Piddingtons to church in the phaeton, while Emily and the others walked. The morning was already warm, and the sun silvered the blades of grass as the four of them cut across the field behind the house. Emily and Dick dropped behind Alice and Lizzie.

  “Dede asked me about Mr. Piddington’s case,” Dick told Emily in a whisper.

  Emily glanced at Dick’s face. He looked pale and worried.

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I said that I saw Mr. Piddington with it yesterday morning, which wasn’t a lie,” Dick said. He looked Emily in the eye. “I don’t like lying–especially on a Sunday.”

  “Pah!” Emily said. “Sunday shmunday. You sound like Lizzie.” She gave Dick a playful nudge. “Don’t you think the horrible Piddington deserves it?”

  Dick had to grin in agreement.

  “Besides,” Emily added. “I’m doing everyone a favor by hiding those stinky sticks.”

  She and Dick wrinkled their noses and laughed. But despite her careless words, Emily felt a worm of unease squirm in her stomach.

  Dick’s face grew serious again.

  “If you get caught you’ll be in real trouble,” he said.

  Emily couldn’t help wincing at the thought of the riding whip nipping the back of her legs.

  “It’s not like I stole anything,” she said quickly. “I’ll just let Piddington stew a bit, then I’ll leave the thing somewhere he can find it. He’ll just think he misplaced it.”

  “What are you two whispering about?” Lizzie demanded. She had stopped and turned to glare back at them.

  “Do catch up!” Alice pleaded. “We don’t want to be late for church.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. Her pious sisters always started out so early Sunday mornings there was little chance of them being late no matter how much she and Dick dawdled.

  The church service was long and dull, as usual. The minister, Dr. Reid, droned on and on, his thick white beard rising and falling almost hypnotically. One of the smaller orphans who sat near the church stove snored softly. Emily nudged Dick and pointed at an orphan boy who sat in front of them. His brown hair stuck up in ragged tufts on top his head, and he was holding a hymn book up to the boy next to him, using his body to hide it from the view of the matron who sat at the end of the row. Emily and Dick had a clear view of the book between the two boys. Scrawled in the margin was a childish drawing of Dr. Reid, his beard extra long with what looked like a bird poking its head out of the long flowing white mass. Sniffs of laughter escaped Dick and Emily, and Lizzie gave Emily a sharp poke.

  Emily turned her attention back to the front of the church and tried to concentrate on Dr. Reid’s words. With Emily’s luck, Dede would probably quiz her on the sermon when they got home just like Father used to do. After a while Emily’s attention wandered again, and she leaned forward to try to catch a glimpse of the Piddingtons who sat at the end of the Carrs’ row. Mrs. Piddington faced straight ahead, her expression vacant. She was probably thinking that women’s hats were much more stylish in England, Emily thought. Mr. Piddington looked bored, as usual. His heavy-lidded eyes seemed to be staring up at a corner of the ceiling behind Dr. Reid’s head. Then, as Emily watched, he absently patted the empty pocket of his coat where his cigarette case usually rested, and his bored look hardened into a scowl. Suddenly, he turned, and his eyes met Emily’s. She looked away quickly and drew back in the row. Her heart thudded. Did he suspect her of taking the case?

  Eventually, the service ended, and Emily and her family emerged from the church, blinking in the sunlight. Dick caught Emily’s eye as they watched the Piddingtons climb into the phaeton.

  As they walked home, Emily watched the side of the road for signs of the weeds her canary liked to eat. She picked a few sprigs of a plant with small yellow flowers that Father had once told her was related to the dandelion. The thought of her canary pecking his food and singing made Emily’s heart feel lighter.

  13

  Missionaries

  Since no work was done on Sundays in the Carr house, the noon meal was the usual cold meat and dishes prepared the day before. The Piddingtons sat at the table while Emily helped her sisters bring in the food. As she set down a basket of buns, Emily noticed Mr. Piddington pick up the teacup in front of him and look at it with distaste. It was covered with wobbly hand-painted roses that had faded to an ugly brown color and had been a gift to Dede from one of her Sunday-school students. It wasn’t usually used for guests and must have been set out by mistake.

  “Good God, this is ugly,” Mr. Piddington said, hardly making an effort to lower his voice. “It’ll taint the taste of the drink.”

  Emily glared at Mr. Piddington, and Mrs. Piddington waved her handkerchief at him.

  “My dear Mr. Piddington,” his wife said. “I do think misplacing your cigarettes has put you out of sorts.”

  Mr. Piddington grunted in agreement.

  “And no shops in this God-forsaken place are open on Sunday,” he grumbled.

  God-forsaken? Emily’s temper rose. She had half a mind not to return his horrible cigarette case at all.

  Just then, Mr. Piddington seemed to notice that Emily was in the room. Her face flamed as he looked at her. She turned away and hurried back out to the kitchen.

  During the meal, Emily was careful to sit on the same side of the table as Mr. Piddington, so that he could not look at her directly. She did not like the way his eyes darted to her whenever the missing cigarettes were mentioned.

  Soon after they’d finished eating, Emily was relieved to see the Piddingtons leave in a hired carriage. Unfortunately, they were replaced by two new visitors, missionary women with plain stern faces and dark unadorned dresses. Emily and Dick were forced to sit stiffly in the drawing room along with their sisters and their guests.

  Teacups clinked softly, and women’s voices droned. Dick rose from his chair.

  “Excuse me, Dede,” he said weakly. “Would you mind if I went to lie down for awhile?”

  “Are you not feeling well?” Dede asked with concern.

  Dick nodded, his eyes downcast.

  “Yes, do go and lie down. I’m sure our guests will excuse you.”

  Emily looked anxiously at Dick. He had seemed so well earlier. Was he getting sick again? As he turned to leave the room, Dick winked at Emily. Relieved, she had to hold back a laugh. What a good idea. She wished for a moment that she hadn’t always been so strong and healthy. Dede would never believe her if she tried the same rouse.

  Once Dick had left, Emily sat back in her chair and sighed, resigning herself to a boring afternoon.

  But the afternoon did not turn out to be boring, after all.

  “The totem poles are heathenish,” one of the missionaries was saying. “And the forests are so thick and wild you can’t even walk in them.”

  Emily’s ears pricked up.

  “You’ve visited the Indian villages?” Emily asked, leaning forward in her chair.

  “Why yes, dear. We just spent a year in a village on the north coast of Vancouver Island.”

  “How wonderful!” Emily exclaimed.

  The missionary ladies looked pleased with Emily’s interest, mistaking it for religious zeal. But Emily was remembering the exciting stories her father had told years ago after he and a group of local businessmen had hired a steamship to take them all the way aro
und Vancouver Island. It had taken them ten days to get around the island. They’d passed mysterious Indian villages where tall poles carved with animals and supernatural figures stood. They’d seen whales and dolphins leaping in the water and had glimpsed bears and other wild animals at the edge of the forests. Her father had marveled at the magnificent trees, their closeness to each other, the strangling undergrowth and the great silence of the forests.

  Once, when the boat was tied up for three hours, Emily’s father and another man had tried to cut their way into the thick forest with axes. By the time the ship’s whistle blew for them to return, they were exhausted and dripping with sweat, but they’d barely made a mark on the forest. These stories about the wild West Coast were much more interesting to Emily than the stories people told when they’d come back from a trip to England and Europe, bragging about all the great and important buildings and museums they’d seen. She longed to see the forests and the totem poles.

  “What was it like?” Emily asked the missionaries eagerly.

  “It was always wet,” said the smaller of the two women. “And there was nothing but fish to eat.”

  “It is difficult to live so isolated from Christian civilization,” the taller missionary added. “But one can endure many hardships when one knows one is doing God’s work.”

  Emily noticed that Lizzie was nodding her head vigorously as the guests spoke.

  “But what about the forest and the people?” Emily asked.

  “Oh, we never went into the forest,” said the smaller missionary, sounding shocked at the suggestion. “It was much too dangerous.”

  “And we had no reason to,” added the other.

  Emily could think of many reasons why she would want to go into the forest–just to see what it was like, for one.

  “The people must have been very grateful to have you bring them the word of God,” Lizzie said.

  “I don’t know if grateful is the way I would describe their attitude,” the tall missionary said. “But I believe we have made some headway in their acceptance of our Lord.”

  Emily turned away to hide her disgust. The missionaries were just as snobby as the Piddingtons. It seemed like they hadn’t bothered to learn anything about the people or the place they had visited.

  14

  Poor Mr. Piddington

  It wasn’t until the missionary ladies were on their way out that Emily had a chance to slip Mr. Piddington’s cigarette case under one of the stuffed chairs. She pushed it back far enough that it couldn’t easily be seen. She doubted that Mr. Piddington had gotten down on his hands and knees to look under the chair already.

  After supper, the Piddingtons had still not returned. It was so pleasant to have the house to themselves again–to be able to relax and not worry about tripping over the Piddingtons or any other guests–that Emily forgot about the case waiting under the drawing room chair.

  Dick had made his way back downstairs. He, Emily and Alice sat reading in the sitting room, while Dede played hymns on the drawing room piano and Lizzie sang along. The music was sober and heavy as it vibrated through the house, but it was also familiar and comforting.

  Feeling in good spirits, Emily put her book down suddenly and ran lightly up the stairs to her room. She came back down, carefully carrying the canary’s cage. She placed it on the small table between her chair and the window and sat back down with her book. Both Alice and Dick looked up and smiled. It had been a while since Emily had brought the bird down to join them. Soon the canary’s whistling voice was joining in with the piano, adding a more cheerful melody to the booming chords.

  It was almost time for bed when Emily heard the carriage pull up in front of the house and the front door open. The memory of the Piddingtons and the cigarette case crashed down on her like a sour piano chord. She’d have to wait until they were out of the hallway before she could sneak past them and up to bed. She wanted to be far away when Mr. Piddington discovered the case under the chair.

  The next morning it was obvious that the case had not yet been discovered. Mr. Piddington was making plans to head into town to buy more cigarettes as soon as the shops were open. How was Emily going to get him to find the case before he went out?

  “Milly!” Alice called. “Are you ready to leave for school?”

  Emily hesitated. It would be perfect if the case could be found while she was away at school. But how was she going to get someone to look for it?

  Emily noticed Dede heading to the sitting room with the feather duster. Perfect. She would be making her way to the drawing room next. Maybe she’d find the case before Mr. Piddington left for the shops. But she’d be dusting the tops of things, not the bottoms. What if she didn’t look under the chairs?

  Emily grabbed her coat from its hook in the hallway outside the drawing room and paused in the drawing room doorway to put it on. Her eyes searched the room, unsure of what she was looking for. Then, she saw it–Dede’s needlework. She glanced down the hall to make sure Dede was still out of sight and ducked into the drawing room. Carefully, she placed Dede’s needlework on the floor as if it had fallen between the table and the nearby plush chair. She listened to make sure no one was coming, then she bent down and looked under the chair. The cigarette case was still there. She moved it slightly, so that it would be visible to anyone reaching down to pick up the needlework. Then she left the room and hurried to join the others leaving for school.

  “You’ll never guess,” said Lizzie when Emily and the others arrived home after school. “Dede was dusting in the drawing room this morning, and what do you think she found?”

  “What?” Emily asked, though her heart was pounding.

  “Why, Mr. Piddington’s cigarette case,” Lizzie announced, sounding as pleased as if she had found it herself. “It was right under his feet all along.”

  Emily and Dick exchanged a quick look.

  “Oh, I am glad for Mr. Piddington,” Alice said. “He must be pleased it’s been found.”

  “Yes,” Lizzie said. “But he would have been more pleased if it had been found before he went out and bought another.”

  Emily felt a stab of guilt. But she was distracted when Dick suddenly pulled away from them and hurried up the stairs, clutching his stomach. Alice and Lizzie paid no attention, but Emily was concerned. Was he ill?

  She caught up to him at the landing at the top of the stairs.

  “Dick, are you all right?” she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm.

  Dick turned to her, and as his eyes met hers, his face split into a laughing grin.

  “Poor Mr. Piddington!” he whispered with a puffing exhalation of breath.

  15

  Close Call

  The next day, Emily walked back to the house after another happy ride with Johnny. As she opened the side door, she caught a flash of something small and yellow moving through the air in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Quick Emily, shut the door!” Alice cried. “Your canary is out.”

  Emily ducked into the kitchen and shut the door behind her. She looked around quickly and saw the canary flap against the window above the sink. Then, as Alice lunged toward him with her hands open, he flew up out of reach and back across the kitchen into the breakfast room.

  “Stop chasing him,” Emily commanded. “He’ll never settle if he’s scared.”

  Emily followed the bird into the breakfast room, trying to move calmly, so that she wouldn’t frighten him further. Inside her chest, her heart was jumping. What if she had let the canary out when she opened the door to come in? What if he’d flown away and been lost?

  “I’ll close the door to the hall and get his cage,” Emily told Alice. “If we can keep him in this room, and he calms down, he might just fly back into the cage.”

  Emily slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She sprinted down the hall and started up the stairs to her bedroom. Dede stuck her head out of the drawing room.

  “Slow down, Emily,” she hissed.

/>   Emily ignored her sister, hitched up her skirt and took the stairs two at a time. She skidded to a stop in the middle of the bedroom floor. Where was the birdcage?

  Emily began to clatter back down the stairs, but Dede stood near the bottom of the stairs, hands on her hips, her mouth a thin angry line. Emily slowed.

  “It’s my canary,” she told Dede, hoping Dede would understand the urgency of the situation. “He got out, and I’m trying to find his cage.”

  “The cage is in the sitting room,” Dede said grimly. “Perhaps if you kept better track of where you left your creature in the first place, he wouldn’t have gotten out.”

  Emily didn’t bother to argue with Dede. She hurried to the sitting room and found the cage sitting on the table by the window. What did it matter where she left the bird, as long as he was in his cage and the cage door was shut? She always left the cage door closed securely. The only way the canary could have gotten out is if someone had opened the door when she was out riding Johnny.

  Emily carried the cage to the breakfast room and knocked lightly on the door.

  “Alice, it’s me. Is it safe to open the door?” The door opened a crack, and Alice waved Emily inside the room.

  “He’s sitting on top the cupboard,” Alice whispered, pointing.

  Emily set the cage down in the middle of the breakfast table and faced the open cage door toward the canary. Then she refilled the bird’s water dish.

  “I’ll just go out quickly and pick some of his favorite weed, and then maybe we can lure him back to the cage,” she told Alice.

  It didn’t take Emily long to find a sprig of the yellow flowering plant. She reentered the room cautiously and made her way back to the table. The bird was still sitting on top of the cupboard. He cocked his head sideways at her approach and began to preen his feathers.

  Emily set the weed inside the cage and gestured for Alice to stay back. She whistled softly. The bird stopped his preening and looked up. He gave a tentative return twitter. Then he raised his wings and launched himself off the cupboard straight for the open cage door.