Robbie’s fingers under mine clung to Dapple’s grey mane as I hung below the flaring nostrils and round, rolling eyes. Then, far above me, Eddie jerked at the long tail and I pressed my chest against Dapple’s hard wooden head as I soared up and up until Eddie’s dark hair dipped to the floor far below me. We hung poised for one dizzying moment, then I was plunging down again in silent ecstasy, while my brothers squealed with excitement above me.
All at once Nanny was beside us; Dapple juddered to a halt. She lifted a protesting Robbie from his perch while Eddie and I stumbled off the rockers.
‘Quickly Ena, Miss Helena’s hair.’
I stood mute while Ena knelt to pull up my socks and tug my sash straight, then gasped as the heavy bristles came down on my scalp.
‘Sit down now, and don’t move a finger - there’s a good girl.’ Ena’s starched skirts bustled away and I sat still, watching as my wriggling brothers were tidied in their turn.
We sat in a row, waiting. Then the door clicked softly and the lady called Mama glided across the nursery linoleum in a whisper of silk. Nanny prodded us to our feet and I clutched my brothers’ hands as cool lips brushed my cheek. I gazed in fascination at the slim bronze feet, so different from Nanny’s big black boots.
‘Don’t stare at the floor, Helena - it’s time you learnt to stand up straight.’
Slowly I raised my head. Mama’s dark eyes appraised me.
‘I hope she doesn’t pick at her food, Mrs Whitmore.’
‘Certainly not, my lady.’ Nanny’s voice was ruffled. ‘There’s no daintiness in my nursery. What’s not eaten at dinner comes back at teatime.’
Horrible, horrible sago; my stomach lurched.
‘Look up, child.’
My head jerked up again. Mama’s glance flicked to my brothers, her face softening.
‘The twins look sturdy enough.’
‘We’ve had a little trouble with Master Robbie’s chest, my lady, but a good rub with wintergreen and a cottonwool jacket soon put him to rights.’
‘I’m sure I can rely on you to take care of him, Mrs Whitmore.’
Nanny’s broad bosom swelled. Mama’s dark eyes were on me again.
‘Such very straight hair - perhaps you could do something about that, at least, Mrs Whitmore.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘Lord and Lady Pickering will wish to see their grandchildren while they are here - have them ready to come down to the drawing room after tea tomorrow.’
The tiny bronze heels tapped away in a parting rustle of silk.
That night Ena and Rose bathed the twins. Puzzled, I watched Nanny tear an old strip of sheet into neat lengths.
‘Hold your head still now, Miss Helena, there’s a good girl.’
My hair was twisted and tugged as she wound it up round the white strips until my face was stretched tight. The twins were round-eyed as I ate my bread and milk.
‘Knobs,’ Eddie demanded. ‘Knobs for Eddie and Robbie.’
Nanny smiled. ‘No, Master Eddie, only girls have their hair curled. We want Miss Helena to look pretty tomorrow, don’t we?’
I glowed.
My pillow was full of wooden bricks: their sharp edges dug into my head. But as I woke and dozed and woke again I thought of my beautiful curls and was content.
Ena threaded pink ribbon through my Sunday-best frills. Layer after stiffly starched layer crackled scratchily over my head, to be held in place by my beautiful pink sash.
‘Now, don’t lean back, Miss Helena, else you’ll squash your lovely bow.’
I perched on the edge of the chair, gazing down at my feet, so closely enfolded in the soft sheen of my best ‘glassy kid’ shoes, fastened, oh joy, with a narrow elegant strap.
I heard Jem come in with the coals as I sat waiting. I raised my eyes from my toes and looked up at him, expectantly. He put the hod down beside the hearth and stood inspecting me, mouth pursed in concentration. I held out my feet and he gave a long ‘ah’ of admiration.
‘Fancy that, strapped shoes and all! Well, don’t you look smart, Miss Helena, with your hair all in curls too. My, ain’t you a pretty girl today.’
I gazed up at him adoringly.
Jem bent down confidentially. ‘You and Ena must be the prettiest girls in the whole wide world!’
Ena glanced up from Eddie’s buttons, her face flushed.
‘Go away with you, Jem Barnett - you’ve been at the honey pot again.’ But she laughed as she spoke.
Jem grinned. ‘It’s Miss Helena who’s got the sweet voice - have you got a song for me today, then?’
I slid off my chair and stood up straight with my hands behind my back. Could I remember ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’? I bit my lip, not quite certain, then Jem winked at me and I knew I could. I began to sing.
Jem’s ‘There’s a clever girl now’ rang warmly in my ears as I climbed back on to my chair. Today was a special day.
Their hair brushed and shining, the twins climbed up beside me. Not daring to move we sat in a row in front of the fire.
I whispered, ‘When are we going, Nanny?’
Nanny creaked over to the mantelpiece. ‘When the hands stand quite straight, Miss Helena, that’s when Jem’ll come for you. Now, sit still and see if you can see it move.’
I glued my eyes on the clock. At last it was one long line. I held my breath. But the door did not open, and the top of the line began to bend - it moved on. I turned and looked at Nanny, aghast.
‘Well, now, maybe her ladyship’s busy for the moment.’ I breathed out, slowly.
The hand moved inexorably on, and now there was a thin black corner etched on the clock’s face, and a tiny frown on Nanny’s. Ena began to tell us about Tommie, the Boots, how he had kicked a ball right over the kitchen garden wall into Mr Parton’s best cabbages, and how Mr Parton had been so angry he had chased Tommie, so Tommie had climbed a tree and put out his tongue at Mr Parton. ‘Just fancy that, put his tongue right out - wasn’t that naughty!’ The twins giggled; Ena was smiling. I tried to smile back, but the two hands had met now, and one had disappeared.
Then, at last, the door clicked and Jem came in in his best striped waistcoat and green jacket. I jumped down off my chair, but he did not look at me.
‘Mrs Whitmore, her ladyship says to tell you she forgot about the nursery and it’s too late now. Get the children ready tomorrow, maybe then, she says.’
I could not believe it.
Nanny said calmly, ‘Thank you, Jem.’ Her stays creaked as she bent over me. ‘We’d best get you undressed, then, Miss Helena - it’s nearly bedtime now.’
I hid behind my beautiful useless curls as my shiny shoes disappeared in a blur of tears.
That night I twisted and turned my bumpy head, vainly searching for a smooth place on the pillow. Dreams and memories became confused in my aching mind: huge hands picked me up and tossed me into the air, laughing as I screamed. I woke panting, and fixed my eyes on the faint glimmer of the night light and the shadowy mound that was Nanny’s body. But when I fell asleep again I still dreamt. I had shrunk down on to the floor, surrounded by endless black legs and looming muffling skirts. Great staring faces swooped down on me, cold mouths sucked at my cheeks while long hard fingers stroked my hair and became entangled with it and tugged and tugged - until I woke again, shaking and frightened. I did not want to go down to the drawing room now.
At last Rose padded in and I slipped out of bed and ran to lean against Nanny’s white counterpane, beside the shiny black tray. Nanny, little finger crooked, held her cup to my lips so that I could sip a little of the sweet brown liquid. My dreams faded in the light of the new day.
Ena unravelled the tormenting rags and delicately combed and brushed, but the curls fell limp and sad on my neck. My throat closed against the porridge, but I knew I had to swallow it, all of it.
Outside the sky was grey. Nanny called the twins from the wet grass. They ran ahead, then the two dark heads dropped suddenly down. Eddie poked with his stick at a small brown bundle on the ground.
‘Look, Hellie, bird!’
I looked down. A wing fanned over the gravel, two fragile feet stiff below it. The tiny black bead eyes were dulled and empty. I clutched Nanny’s skirt, shivering.
‘It won’t hurt you, Miss Helena, it’s only a poor little bird.’
Eddie pushed his stick beneath the bird, but the small brown bundle fell back stiff and still.
‘Why doesn’t it fly?’ I whispered.
‘Because it’s dead, Miss Helena - its little soul’s flown straight away up to heaven. Come along now, if you walk very fast we just might have time to visit the stables. Won’t that be nice?’
Eddie dropped his stick and two pairs of boots pounded off. Nanny tugged me forward, but I craned back at the limp mound of feathers - if the bird’s soul had flown all the way to heaven, why were its wings still here?
‘Hurry up, Miss Helena - don’t dawdle.’
Indoors my hair clung clammily to my neck, and misery closed my throat as Nanny said, ‘What a shame, all your lovely curls have dropped out - nasty damp day.’
The tears spilled over and dripped down my face. Nanny’s voice was heavy with disapproval. ‘Handsome is as handsome does. I don’t want vain little girls in my nursery.’
I ate all my slimy tapioca, so Nanny let me read my book to her but I stumbled over: ‘I met ten pigs in a gig’, and stared dumbly at the next line as it danced before my eyes until Nanny lifted me firmly off her knee with ‘Time for afternoon naps - and if you’ve not picked up by teatime it’s a nice spoonful of Gregory Powder for you.’
I crept quickly away to my bed.
Ena tickled Eddie and he squealed as she dressed him in his Sunday best. I sat, poker-stiff, mourning my lost curls. I was not pretty tonight. I watched the hands of the clock, frightened that Jem would come, fearful that he would not. But tonight he came.
The stairs seemed steeper, the hall wide and cold. A big door swung smoothly open and the sound of voices swelled up and died away. I stood fixed on the threshold, terrified, until Nanny gave me a push. ‘Take your brothers in, Miss Helena - you’re a big girl now.’
I stepped on to the endless carpet.
Mama’s tall figure was above us. ‘Come along children, your grandpapa is waiting for you.’
She propelled us forward until we stopped before a heavy gold chain curving over a rounded grey waistcoat. A large head like an old grey lion’s bent over the twins. I stood behind, waiting. Eddie laughed, the lion rumbled, then suddenly the twins were gone and I was alone in front of him.
‘Kiss your grandpapa, Helena.’ Mama’s voice was high above me.
I looked desperately at the hairy face in front of me, then, eyes tightly shut, I launched myself forward. Large hands gripped my arms, there was a smell of cigars and smoke as bristles scratched my lips, then I was released and set back on my feet again. I swayed slightly.
‘How d’ye do, young Helena?’
I guessed from the tone of the rumble it was a question, but whatever was the answer? I could only stare, dumb, at the small dark eyes amidst the whiskers. He rumbled the query again, more loudly.
Mama’s hand hurt my shoulder. ‘Helena, wherever are your manners? Answer your grandfather - have you completely lost your voice?’
I tore my eyes away from the grey lion and looked desperately around for my brothers, but the only familiar sight was Jem’s green shoulders straightening up from the fire. He turned, and as he saw me his face broke into a smile and he dropped one eyelid in a wink. Relief flooded through me; of course I had a voice - a sweet voice, Jem had told me so. I knew what to do now.
I planted both feet more firmly on the carpet and raised my chin. My voice quavered as I began: ‘All things bright and beautiful’, but the soothing rhythm caught hold of me, and now I saw the birds and the flowers and old Mr Jeffson in his little house at the gate. The clear bright pictures rippled through my head and out of my mouth.
When I had finished the lion clapped. ‘So, you’ve bred a little songbird, Ria. Bravo, Helena.’
I trembled with relief at his approval. He fumbled below the chain and a shining gold coin appeared between his broad finger and thumb. ‘For you, my dear.’ My ‘Thank you’ was a whisper as I took the hard, warm coin. ‘Now go to your grandmama, little one.’
He pushed me gently away. I followed Mama’s trailing skirt across the carpet.
Grandmama’s cheek was like fine tissue paper under my lips, her hair very white above her dark eyes. She spoke softly. ‘You sang very nicely, my dear - do you like to sing?’ I nodded. ‘Who taught you?’
I whispered, ‘Ena’.
‘And who is Ena?’
I looked at her blankly. How could I explain Ena? Ena was just - Ena.
Mama broke in, ‘The nursemaid, I believe.’ Grandmama turned her head. ‘When you come to engage a governess for this child, Ria, you must ensure that she is well grounded in music. Little Helena has a good ear - it will repay training.’
Mama’s voice was impatient. ‘Obviously she must be able to play, but she isn’t a grocer’s daughter, singing for her supper in the parlour every evening.’
Grandmama’s lips tightened. ‘I sang to entertain our guests when I was a girl.’
‘Times have changed, Lady Pickering. If my guests wish to hear music, then they expect to hear it from professionals.’
Grandmama’s voice was low but imperious. ‘Muirkirk – please come here a moment.’ Papa, tall in black and white, appeared above me. ‘I’ve just been telling Ria that this little one will need a musical governess.’
Papa’s dark head bent in acknowledgement. ‘Of course, Mama. Ria will see to it.’
Grandmama smiled. ‘Send the dear little boys to me now, Ria.’
Mama and I were dismissed. I almost ran to keep up with her skirts as they swished angrily over the carpet.
A hand reached out and barred my way. The long fingers sparkled. ‘So this is your other daughter, Ria. Let’s have a look at her.’ I was pulled round to face glittering greenish eyes set above high red cheekbones. The mass of brilliant hair above was the exact colour of the ginger cat that patrolled the kitchens. I gaped at her in amazement. Two rows of large white teeth smiled at me. ‘She’s all neck and eyes - like some wretched fledgeling that’s fallen out of its nest. Don’t you feed her, Ria?’
‘I suppose Nanny does.’ Mama shrugged and dropped into a chair. ‘God, what wouldn’t I give for a cigarette.’
The lady laughed loudly. ‘Ah, one of the joys of matrimony - mothers-in-law!’ She turned her attention back to me. ‘So what’s your name, little fledgeling?’
I took a deep breath, but I was too slow. Mama’s voice broke in sharply, ‘Answer Lady Maud, Helena.’ But now I could not. Mama gave an impatient sigh.
‘Don’t waste your time trying to talk to Helena, Maud – she has no more conversation than a deaf mute. God knows how I’m ever going to bring her out.’
Lady Maud’s laugh rang out again. ‘That’s years ahead, Ria - you can soon get her trained up to say yes and no and to simper in the right places, that’s all these young girls do today, and most of them capture husbands. Besides, how can you expect the child to learn how to talk in the drawing room when you never have these youngsters down?’
Mama said defensively, ‘Alice comes down, and Guy when he’s on holiday - I can’t be bothered with the other three as well. I’m not turning my drawing room into a nursery.’
Lady Maud gave an emphatic shake of her ginger head. ‘I’ve always had Juno and Julia down when I’m at home. They can speak up for themselves now: it’s the only way. Ah, Muirkirk.’ Papa was beside her chair. ‘I’ve just been telling Ria she must get the youngsters down more often, teach ’em some manners - you don’t want them talking like nursemaids, now do you?’ Papa’s mouth smiled at Mama. ‘Lady Maud’s talking good sense, Ria - as always.’ He bowed towards the ginger hair. ‘Perhaps you should see more of the younger children.’
There were two red spots on Mama’s cheekbones. ‘Mrs Whitmore is totally competent.’
‘But still—’ Papa shrugged.
Lady Maud interrupted. ‘Why not ask the child, since she’s here? You, Helena, how would you like to come down to the drawing room every day?’
Mama and Papa both turned their eyes on me, but I didn’t know how to answer.
Papa said coaxingly, ‘Now, wouldn’t that be nice, Helena - to dress up and come downstairs every evening? You’d like that wouldn’t you?’
Uncertain, I glanced down at my beautiful shoes. Mama’s voice was persuasive. ‘But you much prefer staying upstairs with Nanny in the nursery, don’t you?’ I looked from Papa’s dark shining moustaches to Mama’s arched eyebrows, and with a sinking heart knew then that whichever answer I gave one face would turn in anger from me. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.
‘Now, Helena - downstairs, eh?’
‘Of course you don’t want to - answer me, Helena.’
The voices were sharper now. Tears welled up; I tried to blink them away, but it was no use. I gulped and began to sob. For a moment silence fell in the room; my cheeks burnt as my shame was exposed to all - my sobbing was louder now.
‘I told you she doesn’t know how to behave downstairs!’ Humiliation washed over me at Mama’s words. I began to shake.
‘Guy, Alice - take your sister away.’ Papa sounded angry.
I was propelled across the floor so quickly that my feet barely touched the carpet. The door slammed shut behind us.
‘Well, what a cry-baby! You can see to her, Guy - I was talking to Juno.’ Alice was gone.
I dared not look at Guy; instead I stumbled away from the door - then stopped and gazed desperately about me. I did not recognize the wide staircase - but it must surely lead to safety. I ran towards it, but the step was too high and I collapsed, still sobbing, at the bottom. I felt Guy pat me awkwardly on the shoulder before he pushed his handkerchief into my hand. I buried my face in it.
‘It’s all right, Master Guy - I’ll carry her upstairs for you.’ It was Jem’s voice. ‘Up you come, littl’un.’
I clutched his lapels and pressed my face into his warm, tobacco-smelling neck as he carried me back to Nanny and Ena.