Edward does not want to go out in the cart. Never again, he thinks. How did he let himself be distracted from what is most important? He stops giving reading lessons and he skips his baths. He has to stand – to stand and to walk. He practises all day long. Pulls himself up and falls and pulls himself up again and falls again. He goads himself on. Weakling, wimp, don’t give up! He does not give up.
Not that Lampie has any time for reading. Martha is trying to squeeze a year’s work into a week, and everything needs to be clean. Now. She sends the girl into rooms where she has never been before, and Lampie sweeps out fireplaces, blows dust off rows of books and waves dusters out of windows.
Martha tells Lenny and Nick to clip the ivy from around the windows and then clean out the filthy pond. The house smells of swamp and rotten leaves for two whole days, and Lenny and Nick have to eat their lunch outside, because the mud is dripping off all their clothes and they only have to look at something to get it dirty.
Lampie runs around with tea and sandwiches. She does not really care if the house is clean in time for the admiral’s return. But she does have a plan.
On Wednesday morning, Martha comes into the kitchen, all hot and bothered.
“I completely forgot to peel the potatoes. I should have…”
“Already done it!” says Lampie, dropping the last one into the water with a splash.
And the soup is already simmering, Martha notices. She goes to make tea, but it is already there. Lampie pours two cups and gives her one. Martha sits down to drink her tea and catch her breath. She can still remember how disappointed she was when this skinny little girl turned up at the house, and how she would have preferred a strong man, who would be of some use to her. But she could not do without Lampie now, she has to admit. She will have to tell her as much, one day, when she is in the right frame of mind.
“I, um, I was wondering if I could… leave now,” the girl suddenly announces.
Martha gasps. “What? You want to leave?”
“Yes.”
“For good? You can’t do that, you know.”
“No, no, just for this afternoon. It’s Wednesday, isn’t it? And didn’t you say I could go to the fair?”
“Did I now?”
Lampie nods. “Yes,” she says. “You promised.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know then that…” Martha glowers at her. “Before we know it, the master will be here, and I haven’t even started on his room yet.”
“I’ve already done it.”
“What about the bed?”
“I’ve put clean sheets on it. And dusted everything, all those cages with beetles and stuff. And if I go and do the windows too, can I leave after that? Please?”
Martha downs her tea. This is all she needs. She wants to say no, because she always wants to say no. But then again. She was only just thinking: the house is brighter, him upstairs is keeping more or less quiet, and Lenny is clearly crazy about the girl. A bit too crazy… Far too crazy, in fact…
“What about the outside of the windows?”
“I’ll do that too! If Lenny can help me with the ladder. Please?”
How can she say no? “Hm…” says Martha. And then, a little later: “Maybe.”
“Oh, please,” says Lampie again. “I really, really want to go.”
“To the fair, eh?” Martha can’t help smiling a little. When was the last time she went to the fair herself? So long ago. First alone and then arm in arm, and then later…
“Um… yes,” says Lampie. “To the fair.”
But Lampie does not want to go to the fair at all. Why would she?
As soon as she has left the house, as soon as she has promised to enjoy herself and to be back by six, and has skipped through the gate like a girl who is looking forward to an afternoon of fun, as soon as she has gone around the corner, she starts to run.