Supper’s only cold bits tonight: bit of cold meat. I wish it was something better, but I burned my arm a few weeks back, it’s come up in a great blister and I’ve been frightened to use the oven ever since. But no matter what’s on the table, Miss Georgina always has the silver out. Although you probably wouldn’t know it was silver, the state it’s in nowadays.
I think I’ll have a glass of sherry. Just a little one won’t hurt and besides, I’ve got to have a bit of a celebration. Better put a comb through my hair first. Might even look in the mirror, seeing as it’s a special occasion. Haven’t looked in the glass since I don’t know when. Might surprise myself. Been doing a lot of that recently, I have, surprising myself. I’ll surprise a few other people, when they hear what I’ve been up to, as well. Because do you know what I did? I wrote a letter. Not to just anybody, but to a certain person. Can you guess who that person was? Not the Queen or Mr Churchill, but someone important to me, very important – but I can’t keep it to myself for ever, not for one more minute, in fact. I wrote to William Ferguson. I’d had it in my mind to do for some time – I’m more than just a pretty face, you know – but I was worried that it wasn’t what you should do, write to a man. My dear mother would have said that it was what fast girls did – not that she could write much more than her name – but times change and girls do all sorts since the war, don’t they? And if I’m not old enough now to know my own mind then I never will be, that’s what I say.
It wasn’t a love letter or anything like that, it was just a note, really. You may be surprised to hear from me after so many years, but since my last, I find myself in different circumstances from my former. A meeting would be very agreeable to me if you would care to. William must have replied the same day he received it, because Master Edmund brought his letter down two days after I’d sent mine. He said he was glad to hear from me and he asked me if I still liked a walk in the park – I’ll have to tell him my legs aren’t up to it now, but it doesn’t matter, because he said in the letter that he’s got his own car, imagine!
I shouldn’t get too excited. At my time of life it’s not decent. But now I know I might have something if I’m granted another couple of years. Because why would William answer my letter if it wasn’t meant to be? And I’ll tell you something for nothing – if he asks me this time I’ll say yes straight away. I’m going to tell him about the pickles as well, repeating on me. I nearly wrote it in my letter but then I thought: You can’t put a thing like that in a letter. But I am going to tell him that was why I didn’t say yes straight away the last time, not because I didn’t want to. That’s the kind of thing you need to know about someone if you’re going to marry them, that pickles don’t agree …
I know, I’ll have one of Miss Georgina’s chocolates to go with the sherry. Just the one. It can’t hurt, diabetes or no diabetes. This box is supposed to be pink, but you’d never know it from the lid. Been sitting in the sun too long. I thought as much when she gave them to me. And they’ve all gone and melted inside the box. She must have been given these as a present and quite a few years ago, too, by the look of them. Still, I’m not one to bear a grudge and anyway, we’re past all that now. But I will say this: Miss Georgina’s stopped me once from doing what I should, but she’ll not stop me again. I won’t give her the chance. Because William and I are meant, as I said. What I’ve done this evening, that’s for others to judge whether it’s right or wrong, not me. But I’ll tell you this: if I went and left Miss Georgina, she’d find some other poor soul to torment, same as she’s done to me, same as she’s done to her own brother if the truth were known. When I say ‘torment’, I don’t mean like the devil with the old toasting fork that they used to tell us about in church – although Miss Georgina could teach the devil a thing or two if she wanted, I’m sure of that.
And it’s not just myself I’m thinking of. There’s Master Edmund and Miss Louisa too, because she’s a widow, now, since Lord Kellway died last year. So you see, you’ve got one that can stop four being happy and that doesn’t seem right to me. But don’t go saying I’ve gone mad. I’ve been thinking it over for a couple of weeks now and I say a fair exchange is no robbery. Because what’s Miss Georgina had of me? My life, that’s what she’s had. Now, that may not seem much to some, but it’s the only life I’ve got or ever shall get if it comes to that.
It’s simple, really. It’s my pills I take for my diabetes. The doctor gave me a new sort. He said to me, ‘Don’t go taking too many of these, Miss Pepper, or you’ll drop off to sleep and we’ll never wake you up again.’ I told him I’d lost them. The whole lot. Said I dropped them down a drain in the street, but I never, I’ve got them safe in my bag. There’s no taste so’s you’d notice and since sugar’s been off the ration I’ve been putting a lot more into Miss Georgina’s cocoa. It was an accident the first time, putting in two spoons instead of just the one, but then I thought: Well, there’s an idea, so I’ve been piling it in until the cocoa’s like syrup and the cup still comes down empty on the old dumb waiter. There’s enough sugar left in the bag for one more cup. I’ve crushed the pills, I wrapped them up in paper and brought the rolling pin down on them. Made my hands hurt, doing that, I had to run them under the cold tap until they felt better. Now I’ll just put the cocoa on the dumb waiter and send it up … Gone!
So you see I’m not mad. I’ve worked it all out as careful as anything. It’ll be very peaceful, just like falling asleep, really, and then – well, perhaps I’ll put on the brooch Miss Louisa gave me. I meant to save it for William, but it won’t make any difference if I wear it now. I’ve got it in one of the biscuit tins. A burglar wouldn’t think to look there. And my white gloves, I knew I’d put them by for something … This is a proper celebration. Shame there’s no one to share it with, really. I shan’t tell William about any of this, mind you. He always was a little bit proud of himself and I don’t want him getting ideas …
It’s funny how your memory works, really, or perhaps it’s just the sherry, but I suddenly remembered something Charlie and me said years ago, something I’d forgotten I’d remembered. Or remembered I’d forgotten, I don’t know which. It was when we were quite small. We were sitting on a wall somewhere – which was unusual in itself, come to think of it, because Bertie was usually off playing with the other boys. But that day we were together and he said to me, ‘What would you like to see most in the world?’ Well, I couldn’t think of anything, so I said the Queen – Queen Victoria that was – I said I’d like to have a sight of her. ’Course I never did. But perhaps I’ll see this queen. I should like to see her, because she’s lovely, Queen Elizabeth, ever so beautiful. Perhaps I’ll go with William. We’ll go together to see the queen. ‘Your Majesty, may I introduce Mr and Mrs William Ferguson. Ordinary folk, but you won’t find loyaler subjects in all of England.’
What’s that? Great loud bang, nearly knocked me over. Honestly, they’ll have the plaster down off the ceiling if they’re not careful. What do they think they’re doing with loud bangs at this time of night? I’ll have to go and see to it, whatever it is. Can’t have been a bus, not unless it’s run off the road and into the house. Oh, that would be dreadful, I hope it isn’t that. Well, the sooner I get upstairs, the sooner I’ll find out. Come on, Legs, take me – up – the – stairs – just – once – more – so – we – can – see – what’s – at – the – top. Little rest now. Get breath back. Feel dizzy – that must be the sherry doing that. Lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine. Dear, oh dear. Well, I hope Miss Georgina finds some peace. She’s never had none in this life, that I do know. Not from herself or anyone else. Off we go again, Legs, nearly there now. Just catch my breath and then – nasty stiff old door handle, come on, open up … Here we go – now we’ll see what all this racket’s in aid of. What? What are you doing? I don’t understand – what are you doing? Oh, no, no – I … William, oh, William, Wuh