by Adele Geras
About The Historical House
This series is a unique collaboration between three award-winning authors, Adèle Geras, Linda Newbery and Ann Turnbull, all writing about one very special house and the extraordinary young women who have lived there throughout history.
Adèle Geras
Lizzie’s Wish
Cecily’s Portrait
Linda Newbery
Polly’s March
Andie’s Moon
Ann Turnbull
Josie Under Fire
Mary Ann & Miss Mozart
About Lizzie’s Wish
Lizzie loves plants, and her biggest wish is to be a gardener, a bold choice for a Victorian girl. When her strict and miserable stepfather sends her to stay with relatives in London, Lizzie misses her country garden and struggles to adapt to her new life of stiff manners and formal pastimes.
Lizzie lives for the daily letters from her mother, and is looking forward to news of her new baby brother or sister. But suddenly the letters stop, and when Lizzie sets out to discover the truth she finds herself on a rescue mission.
A compelling story of one girl’s determination to defy the stifling conventions of Victorian life.
To Debra Armstrong
Floor plans of 6 Chelsea Walk in 1857
Download the floor plan from Lizzie’s Wish at the Usborne Quicklinks website
Contents
About The Historical House
About this book
Dedication
Floor plans of 6 Chelsea Walk in 1857
Chapter 1
In which Lizzie Frazer prepares for a journey
Chapter 2
In which Lizzie meets her cousins again
Chapter 3
In which Lizzie writes a letter home
Chapter 4
In which Lizzie struggles to become more ladylike
Chapter 5
In which Lizzie and Hugh disagree
Chapter 6
In which the family visits Kew Gardens
Chapter 7
In which Uncle William speaks his mind
Chapter 8
In which Uncle William converses with Lizzie
Chapter 9
In which Lizzie and her mother are reunited
Chapter 10
In which Uncle William takes action
Chapter 11
In which Lizzie’s mama receives a letter
Chapter 12
In which Lizzie has a sleepless night
Chapter 13
In which the Frazer family learns to live with an infant
Chapter 14
In which Clara comes into her own
Chapter 15
In which Lizzie has two surprises
Author’s note
About the author
Usborne Quicklinks
Collect the series
Copyright
Chapter One
In which Lizzie Frazer prepares for a journey
Lizzie was packing her valise, ready for her visit to London. Even though she knew how much she would miss Mama, she was looking forward to the journey; to seeing her cousins again and to living for a time in the fine house in Chelsea about which she had heard so much, and which she was sure was a great deal larger than their cottage. Uncle Percy was the owner of a prosperous draper’s shop, and the house, so Mama said, was decorated in the most up-to-date style. Uncle Percy was the richest of the three Frazer brothers, and Lizzie didn’t mind that, but it had always struck her as somehow unjust that her beloved father should have been the one brother to die young. Uncle Percy was the eldest, and Uncle William was a soldier who had fought in the recent war in the Crimea, and both of them, in Lizzie’s opinion, should therefore have been much more likely to leave this earth before their time than her papa, John Frazer.
He had died when Lizzie was only five, from a fever resulting from a bad chill, but even though seven years had passed since then, she remembered her father well, or thought she did. She could summon up memories of walking with him through the woods near their small house, where he would point at the plants and flowers, and tell her their names. If she shut her eyes, she could see a picture in her mind of herself, scarcely more than a baby, sitting on his broad shoulders and looking down at the world, with her head (that was what it felt like) almost touching the clouds.
More and more often lately, Lizzie needed to remind herself of those happy days. Her mother was now married to Mr. Eli Bright, a curate at the village church. He had moved into their cottage, not having a great deal of wealth of his own. Mama explained to Lizzie that now she was married to Mr. Bright, her money and possessions quite naturally became his. This seemed most unfair to Lizzie, and in her opinion Mama’s new husband had turned their home into a chilly sort of place, where laughter was frowned on and every kind of comfort denied. Her mother scarcely ever played the piano as she used to, and the lamps seemed to glow with a far dimmer light than they had in the days when Papa was alive. How it was that her mother, Cecily Frazer, who was so lively, pretty and gentle, could find it in her heart to love someone as gloomy, strict and unfeeling as Eli Bright was beyond Lizzie’s understanding, and she dared not ask, for fear of reminding Mama of everything she was missing. She resolved not to think about such matters for the moment, but instead to look forward to her journey to London.
Lizzie had decided to take all three of her dresses with her. One was made of blue wool and had lace trimmings at the cuffs and collar. Another was brown serge; Lizzie thought it sadly plain and only suitable for school. Her Sunday dress was moss-green velvet and rather old. She hoped she would not grow too tall for it before it was quite worn out. She was also taking two white pinafores: the ones that had been mended less often than the others. She had chosen a book or two to accompany her on her travels and her Mother Goose Rhymes had a few precious flowers from the garden pressed between the pages.
All her belongings were neatly laid out on the bed in her tiny bedroom, and Mama was helping her to fold everything and put it into the valise. Lizzie was enjoying this rare opportunity for private conversation with her mother. Mr. Bright (Lizzie refused to call him Father, and Eli, his Christian name, was too familiar) was always present and ready to overhear whatever they said to one another when they were downstairs. She knew that it was his idea that she should be sent away from home. Her mother was expecting a baby soon after Christmas, and Mr. Bright considered that Lizzie’s departure would make life much easier for his wife.
“I wish I might be allowed to stay here in the country with you, Mama,” Lizzie said. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you alone with Mr. Bright. He doesn’t seem very happy about the baby.” She didn’t say so to Mama, but she had noticed that since her mother had announced her pregnancy, Mr. Bright had taken to reading his Bible in private for hours at a time, and made even less effort to converse with them at mealtimes than he ever had.
“No, dear, you may be sure he is delighted. Eli is very anxious that I should be spared too much hard work. That is all.”
Lizzie wanted to protest that her own presence in the cottage ought not to be called “hard work”. Indeed, she was the one (since Annie, the maid, was rather slow and elderly) who helped her mother with the cooking and the laundry and the dusting of the few ornaments that Mr. Bright permitted them to display. It occurred to her also that if Eli Bright was delighted by anything, he had managed to hide it from everyone.
“Your Uncle Percy is kindness itself,” Mama continued. “He has always been a good brother-in-law to me, and it’s kind of him to offer you a home until after the baby is born. His new house is very grand, I believe, but quite full already. All three children still live at home, as well as your Grandmama Henrietta and Uncle William. To say noth
ing of Uncle Percy and Aunt Victoria themselves, of course. And the servants. You will be a crowd, there is no doubt of it. He’s found room for you, Lizzie, and you must be aware of that kindness and be polite and helpful at all times…”
“I will, Mama. I promise. And I’ll write to you, so that you may know about the fine sights which will be all around me in Chelsea.”
Lizzie could see that her mother was blinking tears away from her eyes, and indeed, she herself was beginning to feel sad at the thought of leaving, so she changed the subject as quickly as she could.
“I must find room for this, Mama,” she said, holding out a tin box which had once contained tea. She had tied string around it, as carefully as she could, so that it would not fly open while she was travelling.
“What have you got in there, child?” Mama asked. “I’m sure Uncle Percy has tea in plenty and you’ve no need to take such things with you.”
“It’s not tea,” said Lizzie. “It’s something else. It’s private.”
“Will you not tell me your secret? Otherwise, I might do nothing but wonder and wonder, after you’ve left us.”
“It’s a walnut in a flowerpot. I took one of the finest-looking nuts, still in its husk, from Mr. Alton’s tree when he was harvesting his walnuts and I’ve planted it in a small flowerpot. I’ve put the flowerpot into the tea-caddy and it must remain upright during the journey or the earth will fall out. I’ll look after it in London, never fear.”
“Oh, Lizzie, your papa used to do that…do you remember? Plant a walnut to make a new tree. How can you recall it when you were such a young child?”
Before Lizzie answered, she had to collect herself a little. All of a sudden she was overcome with sadness to think how much she would miss helping Mr. Alton with his trees. He had a large orchard that neighboured their own garden and he was always kind to Lizzie and told her all about the plants and flowers she loved so well.
“It came into my mind when I saw the husks lying on the ground. I wanted to take something with me from home. Something to remind me of the countryside. Mr. Alton gave me the flowerpot. He says I’m to keep it in a cold frame so that it may live through one hard frost before it’s ready to sprout. Do you think Uncle Percy has such a thing as a cold frame in his garden?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Mama. “You’ll discover when you get to Chelsea Walk, no doubt. I’ll find you a small basket to put your walnut in, so that it may stay upright at all times.”
“Thank you, Mama,” said Lizzie, and she returned to the folding of her pinafores. She was determined to enjoy all that London had to offer and make Mama proud of her, but it was hard not to feel sad at the thought of leaving home.
Chapter Two
In which Lizzie meets her cousins again
Mama, Lizzie could see, was wiping away her tears with a lace-edged handkerchief as the coach left the Huntsman’s Inn on its way to London. It was a very grand coach, Lizzie felt, with a handsomely dressed coachman sitting on the high seat and four fine chestnut horses to draw it through the countryside. Lizzie bit her lip hard because she was quite determined to be brave and grown-up, no matter how sad and lost she felt on the journey. Saying goodbye to Mama was very hard, and Lizzie tried to concentrate on keeping her basket safely upright, to stop her from thinking of how much she would miss her mother.
Still, it was true that part of her longed to see London and reacquaint herself with her cousins, whom she had not seen for some years. She would miss her friends in the village school, but had no doubt that London schools were full of pleasant girls. Also, she comforted herself with the knowledge that she was not banished from her home for ever, but only for a few months. The Frazer family house was near the river, and there would be ships and tall buildings and perhaps they would even pass by Buckingham Palace, which was where Queen Victoria lived with Prince Albert when they were in London.
Lizzie’s cousins were called Clara, Lucy and Hugh. Clara was sixteen years old and already a young lady, Mama said. Lucy was only eight, but Hugh was twelve years old, as Lizzie was. He would doubtless be her closest companion. Lizzie sighed. That couldn’t be helped of course, but boys, from what she had seen, had too good an opinion of themselves and never allowed that a girl might have a mind of her own.
Uncle William had returned from the Crimean battlefields, Mama told her, “utterly changed”. She knew this from letters Uncle Percy had written to her, for mama, too, had not visited London for many years. As Lizzie had never met Uncle William, perhaps she wouldn’t notice the difference, but whenever Mama spoke of him, she sighed and shook her head and said how terrible the war had been, and how we must give devout thanks that William had come back from it with his limbs intact, even if he had lost one eye. Lizzie had been shown where the Crimea was on the globe, and told that our soldiers were helping the Serbs to fight against the Russians, but it had all appeared to be taking place a long way away, on the other side of the world, and Lizzie had had no clear idea why everyone should be at war with everyone else. Perhaps Uncle William would be able to explain it all to her.
Lizzie gazed out of the window as the coach travelled through the countryside for nearly an hour. Gradually, the trees and hedges gave way to paved streets. After another half hour or so, the coach approached central London. Lizzie’s six fellow passengers craned their necks to look out of the window, and she did the same. Soon, they were in the heart of the city. There were fine, tall buildings everywhere and the wide, paved streets were full of people and carriages. The coach drove swiftly past houses and shops and Lizzie thought that no matter how long she stayed here she would never grow used to the noise and the bustle of the hurrying crowds.
Uncle Percy was there to meet her at the coaching inn. She remembered him from the last time she’d visited London, even though that had been six years ago, when she and Mama came to see the Great Exhibition at the Crystal Palace. He hadn’t changed, and was still just as portly and red-faced as ever, but Lizzie was sure her cousins would be greatly altered. Uncle Percy shouted out as she stepped down from the coach, “Lizzie, my dear! It is you, isn’t it? To be sure it is. How very grown-up you are! Follow me, follow me. Our carriage is waiting and we shall soon be home. The children are eager to make your acquaintance once again.”
“Thank you, Uncle Percy,” said Lizzie, remembering what her mother had told her and curtsying a little to add to the politeness that she hoped was in her voice. Uncle Percy seized her valise in his big hand and Lizzie tucked her basket carefully over her arm, ever mindful of the flowerpot she was carrying within it, and followed him to where the carriage was waiting. Lizzie began to feel a little apprehensive at the thought of what awaited her in Chelsea. She felt tired and grubby from the journey and hoped that her cousins wouldn’t think her a country bumpkin. She resolved to smile when she was introduced to her cousins and be as friendly as she could to make up for her dishevelled appearance.
The house in Chelsea Walk was even grander than Lizzie had imagined. It was very near the river. As soon as Uncle Percy pointed the water out to her, she longed to go and stand on the Embankment and watch the ships passing on their way down to the sea, or to the docks.
“Very well-connected people live in Chelsea,” he told Lizzie. “The late Mr. Turner, the artist, you know, was almost a neighbour of ours for a while. And do you see that church? That is the Old Church, where we worship on Sundays.”
The Frazers’ house was built of red brick. With the basement, there were five storeys altogether, and it seemed very tall indeed to Lizzie. There was a wrought-iron gate which stood about waist-high to Uncle Percy and railings also in wrought iron to separate the front garden from the street. Three wide steps led up to the door. Lizzie wished Mama could have seen such splendour. I miss her already, she thought. How I wish that Mr. Bright might vanish altogether so that I could go home!
She blinked hard to prevent tears from falling, and told herself not to be such a ninny. London was the capital of the coun
try, the hub of the Empire and full of interesting sights and people. It was ungrateful of her to wish herself elsewhere, when Uncle Percy and Aunt Victoria were being so kind.
The whole family was waiting in the front parlour to greet her. Lizzie gazed round the room in astonishment. She felt sure that the whole of Mama’s cottage could have fitted into it, with some space left over. How fine the furnishings were! The panelling was dark wood and there were curtains of olive- green plush at the window. Several carpets were spread over the polished wooden floors and these had patterns of trees and flowers and fruit woven into them. It seemed to Lizzie a shame that they had to be trodden by people’s feet. If they were mine, she thought, I’d hang them on the wall and gaze at their colours all day long.
“This is your cousin Elizabeth, children,” said Uncle Percy. “Clara, you will remember her last visit, and you, too, Hugh, but Lucy, you were only two years old. All you children have changed a great deal in the last six years.” He turned to Lizzie and smiled. “I’m sure that you recall your Aunt Victoria and your grandmother, however. They have scarcely changed at all.”
Lizzie felt her cheek kissed by her aunt. She was thin, with a kind smile and soft hands, and she was wearing a dress in dark blue wool with a lace collar at the neck. Her grandmother, Mrs. Henrietta Frazer, was a short, stout person, who rather resembled the Queen, and dressed to emphasize the likeness, in a grey bombazine dress trimmed with braid.
“Welcome to London, child,” said Mrs. Frazer. “You may call me Grandmama like the others, I suppose.”
“Thank you, Grandmama,” said Lizzie.
“How is dear Cecily’s health?” Grandmama asked.
“Thank you, she is as well as can be expected,” Lizzie answered and wondered what on earth she could think of to say next. Fortunately, Uncle Percy was busy bringing the others forward and Lizzie found herself face to face with a tall, young woman. This must be Cousin Clara, Lizzie thought. She was very pretty, with glossy, dark brown hair and kind, smiling eyes.