Memories of You (5 page)

‘A servant?'

‘Yes.' Selma frowned. ‘I considered it but apparently the girl is doing well at school and wants to stay on. I couldn't bear to make anyone unhappy.' Her brow cleared and she smiled as if she'd solved a knotty problem. ‘So it's altogether best that she stay with her aunt.'

‘And the boys? Are you sure they'll be happy at Haven House?'

‘Of course. They'll be well looked after – especially as you are giving them such a generous donation. It will ensure that they are clothed, fed and educated. Trained to take up some suitable form of employment.'

‘So it seems you have it all arranged.'

Selma looked pleased with herself. ‘I have.'

‘But nevertheless there is something you may not have thought of.'

‘What's that?'

‘Elise, as I must call her, might have wished to stay with her siblings.'

‘I've told you, that is impossible.'

‘You could have found them places in an orphanage where they could stay together.'

‘There's no such place. The boys would have been separated from the girls. No, no, this is the best way, I assure you.'

‘And what if Elise misses her family? What if she wants to see them?'

‘Oh, no. I can't have that. For her own sake I want her to forget all about her humble beginnings.'

‘Do you think that's possible? She is nine years old.'

For a moment Selma's confidence wavered. Then she said determinedly, ‘I'll make sure she does. She's had a perfectly horrid time of it since her mother died. Her aunt told me that she had stopped speaking to anyone. Not a word until she spoke to me. I will make her life so wonderful that she will never want to go back.'

‘And how will you do that?'

‘Oh . . . you know . . . for a start she will be living in this lovely house, she shall have beautiful clothes, go to a good school – my old school, perhaps – riding lessons, piano lessons, dancing, elocution; all the things that a girl from a good family takes for granted.'

‘And what if she doesn't want to ride or dance or go to elocution classes?'

Selma thought for a moment then said, ‘Well, I wouldn't insist on the riding but I'm sure she will find dancing agreeable and, as for elocution, that I must insist on. Her manner of speech is not as bad as I thought it would be, but now she must learn to talk like one of us.'

Hugh knew it was pointless to argue with Selma. And in any case, although he had not yet admitted it, the idea of adopting this beautiful child was beginning to appeal to him. He stepped away from her and looked slowly round the room.

‘Do you think you may have been a little extravagant buying all these toys?'

Selma looked with satisfaction at the doll's house, the baby doll with real blond hair and eyes that opened and closed lying in the hand-carved cradle, the toy tea cups set out on a little table and the Dutch doll and the Stieff bear sitting on the matching chairs. She had chosen them in Fenwick's toy department only the day before and insisted that they must be delivered immediately.

‘Of course I haven't been extravagant. When I was a child I had many more playthings than this. This is just a start. Oh, Hugh, what fun it will be for Elise and me to go shopping together.'

Hugh's feeling of unease returned. His wife was like a child herself. Was she ready to be a mother?

Selma placed her hands on his shoulders and raising herself on her toes she kissed him. ‘But now we must leave our little girl and go down for dinner,' she said. ‘Come quietly, we mustn't disturb her. We'll leave the bedside light on in case she awakens and is frightened.'

When the door closed behind the man and the woman Elsie opened her eyes and sat up in bed. She had been awake all the time but had lain with her eyes closed trying to make sense of what they had been saying to each other. She realized that the beautiful lady who had brought her here wanted her to stay and that the man had not been entirely happy about it. That made her anxious.

She looked around the room, so comforting in the gentle glow from the fire. She couldn't remember ever being as warm and cosy as this. The bedroom she shared with Helen in her old house had a fireplace, but for as long as she could remember there had never been a fire in it. Their mother would warm their nightdresses over a fireguard by the kitchen range and after a wash at the kitchen sink they would pull them on hastily and hurry upstairs. Once in the bed they shared they pulled the bedclothes over themselves as quickly as they could. On cold nights Helen would cuddle her to keep her warm.

Helen . . . Elsie wondered briefly why the lady hadn't brought Helen here as well. Then she remembered. When they had first arrived at this house she had been asleep, but she had woken up as she was being carried upstairs. In her bewilderment she had called out, ‘Helen – where's Helen?'

‘Hush, darling,' the lady had whispered. ‘Helen is going to live with your Aunt Jane, and she told me that she wants me to look after you.'

‘Did she?'

‘Yes, and that's exactly what I'm going to do.'

After that Elsie was taken to a bathroom. At home a tin bath was kept under the kitchen bench and on bath night it was dragged out and placed before the range, then her mother or Helen would fill it up with kettlefuls of hot water. Here the lady simply turned on taps. She had poured pink bath salts into the water from a pretty glass jar with the picture of a rose on the front.

Elsie knew about bath salts. Last Christmas they had all saved their pennies and given them to Helen, who had bought some at the chemist shop on the corner. She had bought them loose in a paper bag and put them in an old jam jar, then put on the lid and tied a pink ribbon round it. That had been their Christmas present to their mother.

‘Look, darling,' the lady said as she swirled the bath salts around and made pretty pink patterns in the warm water.

Then another lady appeared. She was much older and wore a black dress. At first Elsie thought she might be the lady's grandmother but decided she couldn't be when she asked, ‘Do you need any help, madam?'

The conversation that followed had been confusing, mainly because the lady seemed to have muddled up her name with another little girl. A girl whose name was Elise.

‘No, that's all right, Mrs Reynolds. I shall bathe Elise myself. However, you can take these clothes away.'

‘Do you want them laundered?'

‘No. She won't need them any more. Elise is going to start a whole new life here.'

‘Very well, madam.'

Elsie thought that Mrs Reynolds pursed her lips and shook her head but her lady didn't notice.

‘And tell Susan to bring the tray up in about ten minutes' time.'

After her bath Elsie was dried in a huge soft towel and dressed in a pretty nightdress with a pattern of little rosebuds. The lady looked at her critically and then smiled. ‘A perfect fit,' she said. ‘I had to guess your size when I ordered your new clothes so I only bought a few essentials. Oh, Elise, darling, we shall have such fun shopping together!' She paused and then asked, ‘Why are you frowning? Don't you like your new nightgown?'

‘Oh, yes, I do. It's lovely. It's just that my name isn't Elise, you know. It's Elsie.'

The lady smiled. ‘I know, my pet, but I decided that as you are going to start a new life you should have a new name and Elise is such a pretty name, don't you think?'

‘I suppose so.'

‘Well, then, Elise it shall be. Now what is it?'

The lady's smile faded and Elsie found herself desperately wanting to bring it back. ‘It's just . . . just that I don't know what to call you.'

‘Ah . . . for the moment you should call me Mrs Partington, but soon I hope you will want to call me something else.'

She gave Elsie no time to question her further. She held her hand and led her along a softly carpeted corridor to the room where she lay now.

‘I know it's not really bedtime,' she said, ‘but you have had a tiring day. We'll sit by the fire and have milk and bread and butter, and would you like some biscuits?'

‘Chocolate biscuits?'

Mrs Partington laughed. ‘Of course. That's what I promised you, isn't it?'

A moment later a young woman in a grey dress and a white pinafore appeared with a tray. She laid it on a small table near the fireplace.

‘Eat your fill, sweetheart,' Mrs Partington said, ‘and then I shall read you a story.' She gestured towards a small bookcase. ‘Those are my books,' she said. ‘I've had them since I was a child, and now I shall give them to you.'

Elsie looked at the books and for a moment the beautiful room, the comfortable chairs and the warm fire faded as she remembered Helen reading to her by torchlight as they huddled under the bedclothes to keep warm. She remembered that they had been halfway through the latest book that Helen had borrowed from the library. ‘Have you got
The Secret Garden
?' she asked.

‘Why yes, I have! Do you like that book?'

‘I do.'

‘How wonderful! That was one of my favourites when I was a little girl. Oh, Elise darling, I see we shall get on famously.'

After she had finished her supper Mrs Partington drew Elsie on to her knee and began to read to her and, although she was interested in the story, the warmth and the confusing events of the day made her yawn.

‘Bed for you, my pet,' Mrs Partington said. ‘But I promise you I shall go on with the story tomorrow.'

Elsie had been settled amongst the soft pillows and covered with sheets that smelled of lavender, and a silken eiderdown. Mrs Partington leaned over and kissed her brow. ‘Go to sleep, little one,' she said and Elsie, wanting to please her, had closed her eyes obediently.

She had heard the door open and she thought Mrs Partington was leaving but instead she'd heard another voice. A man's voice. He and Mrs Partington stood near the bed and talked together then they moved away a little. What she'd heard of the conversation had made Elsie more confused than ever.

Now as she gazed around the room she could hardly believe the pretty lady wanted her to stay here with her. And Helen? What of Helen? Mrs Partington had told her that her sister wanted her to look after her, so it must be all right. Helen would never send her to anywhere where she might be unhappy. She wondered if she would see Helen soon and tell her how lovely this was.

Elsie yawned. She wanted to lie down and go to sleep but there was something missing. Maisie. Maisie the doll that Helen had made for her from a pair of old socks. She had stuffed the socks with scraps of material, embroidered a smiling mouth on the face and sewn on two blue buttons for the eyes. Maisie's plaited hair had been made from yellow wool and her dress from a piece of blue and white gingham left over from the kitchen curtains. Elsie took Maisie to bed with her every night.

Where was she? Surely Helen wouldn't have let her leave without Maisie? Elsie got out of bed and looked all around the room. She even looked under the bed but Maisie wasn't there. She would have to go and ask Mrs Partington. She opened the door hesitantly, stepped out on to the landing and almost bumped into Susan, the young woman who had brought her supper on a tray.

‘Goodness, child, where are you going?'

Elsie looked up at her fearfully to see whether she was cross. She was relieved to discover that Susan was smiling.

‘I'm looking for Maisie.'

Susan frowned. ‘There isn't a Maisie in this house.'

‘Maisie is my doll. Didn't she come with me?'

‘No, there was no doll. Just you.'

‘Oh.' Elsie thought for a moment. ‘Then I'll have to go home and get her.'

‘Well, not tonight you're not. Now come along. Let's put you back to bed. It's a good job I came up to collect that tray or you'd be wandering about and making people cross.'

‘Would Mrs Partington be cross with me?'

‘No, I don't suppose so. But Mrs Reynolds would be.' She saw Elsie's look of puzzlement and continued, ‘Mrs Reynolds is the housekeeper and she's an old termagant.'

Elsie remembered Mrs Reynolds. She was the older lady dressed in black who had come into the bathroom. She wasn't sure what a termagant was but she suspected it wasn't very nice.

Susan looked around the room. ‘If you want to take a doll to bed with you how about this one?' She took the baby doll from the cradle then frowned and put it back again. ‘Perhaps not. If it fell out of bed its pretty china face might break. What about Gretel, here?' She picked up the wooden doll dressed like a little Dutch girl.

Elsie looked at the doll solemnly. ‘She wouldn't be very cuddly, would she?'

‘I suppose not. Well, how about the teddy bear?'

Elsie nodded.

‘Right. Back into bed with you. I'll tuck you in.'

Susan built up the fire a little and placed a cinder guard before the fireplace. ‘Night, night,' she said. Then she picked up the tray and left the room, closing the door after her.

Elsie pulled the teddy bear towards her and discovered that it was not at all cuddly. It might have nice silky fur but its limbs and body were stiff. She pushed it away from her and hoped that it wouldn't be too long before she was reunited with Maisie.