Evie’s Choice

‘Oh, yes, Ava Cartwright was there with her aunt. She did say it was beautiful,’ I conceded.

‘Well, Frank told me yesterday they were so successful, they plan on doing it again this year.’

I nodded, warming to the idea. It didn’t really matter where we were, after all, provided we were together. ‘All right, we can travel separately, but on the same train, then spend the day and evening at the Pleasure Beach. We’ll see the lights, then be home before anyone’s even noticed.’

‘I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get away, but I’ll try.’

‘You’re looking a bit peaky,’ I said, putting a solicitous hand on his forehead.’

He affected a look of deep suffering. ‘I believe you’re right. I feel a rather uncomfortable sickness coming on. Possibly in a few days.’

I laughed. ‘How will I know when you’re going to be laid up with this awful illness?’

‘I’ll leave a message in the summer house, as long as Mr Shackleton’s not looking.’

‘He spends most of his time in the sheds at this time of year,’ I said. ‘I’ll check the summer house every day. Now I believe it’s time to return, and face the rather off-key music that’s waiting to accompany dinner.’

David had left before I returned, declining dinner on the grounds that the walk in the sun had left him with a headache. I couldn’t help feeling cheated that he had appropriated my own excuse, and I was forced to dine en famille after all. Dinner was an awkward and silent affair; Mother kept looking at me narrowly, no doubt she had seen the blossoming bruise on David’s chin, and noted how he favoured his right ankle as he walked, and she clearly suspected I had something to do with both. Quite what she thought I had done, I didn’t know, but those looks across the table were enough to convince me she had her notions anyway.

I missed Uncle Jack more than ever that evening; he was always the one to keep up a lively conversation and to dampen any signs of discord. I missed his gentle teasing, and the way he would coax Mother, in even the most morose of her moods, into a reluctant smile that made her beautiful and familiar again. He hadn’t been home since New Year’s Eve, almost nine months ago, and I was once more growing worried about Lizzy; the days were flying by for me, but every day she spent in that awful place must feel like a week. Mother clearly felt Jack’s absence almost as keenly as I did and I wondered, not for the first time, if the two of them were closer than they had led us to believe. I fervently hoped they were; there was no one I would rather have as a step-father than Jack Carlisle.

Lawrence sensed the tension in the silence and kept raising his eyebrows at me, but I studiously ignored him, and he pouted when he realised he was being left out of something yet again. Subsequently he requested to leave the table the moment his last forkful was taken, and to avoid the inevitable questions I did the same. But Mother took the rare step of coming to find me later.

‘Evangeline,’ she said, sitting down at my dressing table without being asked. I felt my stomach turn over nervously; she never came to my rooms unless it was something serious, the last time had been the day the diamond had gone missing.

‘If this is about David –’

‘Darling, I understand. I do. It can’t be easy for you.’

‘Easy?’

‘But you mustn’t worry. If you didn’t actually…if he didn’t…’

‘Didn’t what?’ I knew, of course. I just wanted to see how much David had told her.

‘If you were both still fully clothed,’ she said in a rush, her face looking as hot as mine felt.

I chose to misunderstand, just in case. ‘Why would either David or myself be otherwise?’

‘Not David!’ Mother tensed further as she realised she’d have to explain. ‘The other young man. Were you both dressed when David found you?’

Relief welled up, and the dark thoughts about how she would react were swept aside. ‘We were,’ I said. ‘Nothing happened, and I’m very very happy.’

She looked a little surprised at my sudden change in temperament, but she smiled. ‘Then so am I.’

I bent to put my arms around her, and when she hugged me in return all the years fell away, and I was a little girl again and my mother loved me even though I was such an effort for her. I felt horrible for assuming she would rather see me unhappy than wed to the man I loved.

‘You should have told me,’ she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder. ‘I wanted you to tell me yourself, and waited for it. I’m so sad you felt you couldn’t.’

‘I didn’t think you’d understand,’ I confessed. ‘It was hard to know where to begin.’

‘Of course I understand, darling, you mustn’t feel at fault. Now, what did he look like?’

I stepped back, with the prickling suspicion that all was not well after all. ‘What did who look like?’

‘David would only describe him as a thuggish sort of a man, with messy hair and a fierce look in his eyes. Blue eyes, he says, which may help but not much. I gather there was quite a struggle so he might be bruised as well. We must call Inspector Bailey of course. And you’re to stop riding out alone.’

I couldn’t speak. Quite aside from the exaggeration about Will’s appearance, and the “struggle”, I couldn’t believe David had told that story after all, it would achieve nothing. Was it simply revenge?

‘Mother, what David told you is a lie,’ I said at last.

‘I beg your pardon?’ It was only then that I saw she had been battling her own emotions, and there were tears in her eyes for my presumed suffering. I could have wept myself; the one time we had found a kind of bond in far too long, and now I must shatter it again. I felt a fleeting urge to allow her mistaken belief to continue, just to maintain that bond, but it wasn’t fair on Will.

‘I wasn’t being attacked,’ I said, ‘I was lying down with…with a man. We were dressed,’ I added quickly, as the colour drained from her face. ‘We were kissing. But that’s all we were doing. I promise, it was nothing more –’

‘Who was it?’ Her voice was flat, and my own anger kindled.

‘It doesn’t matter. It’s someone who makes me happy and who loves me as much as I love him. But he’s not of “our class”, so I already know what you’re going to say.’

‘Who?’ she repeated.

‘I’m not going to tell you,’ I said, trying to sound stubborn, but instead I heard pleading in my tone. ‘Mother, I don’t want to upset you, but –’

‘Upset me?’ She rose, smoothing down her skirts with shaking hands. ‘I don’t know what makes you think you can upset me now. Letting your maid steal our family’s fortune, your own birthright, that upset me. This?’ She gestured blithely, but her jaw was tight. ‘This is nothing. It will pass.’ But she paused at the door, and her tone softened a little. ‘I assume he’s a handsome boy?’

Man, I wanted to say, but didn’t. ‘Some would say so.’

‘Then be careful. A boy’s demeanour rarely matches a pleasant appearance, and the handsome ones are often the cause of more heartache than the plain ones.’ Her expression turned reflective for a moment, and I wondered again about her and Uncle Jack. Then she shook the thoughts away. ‘Don’t forget your choices are more limited now you have lost the Kalteng Star.’

‘I didn’t lose it, it was stolen. And W…he’s never been interested in my fortune. Even when I still had the diamond.’

She looked startled. ‘How long have you and this boy been courting?’

‘We met in the spring. But have only properly become close since the end of last summer. After my birthday,’ I added pointedly.

She came back in, and a shadow of that bond I had wanted to prolong reappeared as she took my hand. ‘Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I assumed this was some fleeting bit of nonsense, some momentary loss of control.’ I remembered how close that had been to the truth, but again held my tongue.

Mother squeezed my hand. ‘I don’t want you to be unhappy, of course I don’t. And this sounds terribly old-fashioned and you’ll hate it, but thanks to the terms of John Creswell’s will, the future of our family depends on your match, not Lawrence’s. You will never be asked to marry against your wishes, but if the Kalteng Star is ever returned to us, then whoever you have married must be worthy of it. You do understand?’

‘Yes,’ I said. Better to let her think she had convinced me, and to keep her warmth and sympathy, than to lose everything. But I was not going to give in entirely, even on the surface. ‘I won’t marry David Wingfield though.’

Mother looked at me for a moment, with pursed lips. ‘Our two families make poor enemies,’ she said at last. ‘I’ve always known that. However, you will not find me pushing the matter any further. It was Clarissa who suggested this advance of his, not me.’

‘Is that your way of trying to say you don’t blame me?’

A reluctant smile crossed her lips and I loved her again, in that moment. She leaned in close and whispered, ‘He’s a terrible little oik, and his mother’s frightful.’

She smiled again as she opened the door, and now there was an understanding between us that I could feel all the way across the room. Will was right; I was no longer a wayward, rebellious child with too much energy and too little patience, I was a woman, as Mother was, and she was ready now to help me find my way through the often dark and frightening maze of adult relationships and obligations.

There was a touching similarity between this acceptance, and when Will and I had kissed goodbye earlier. There had been no question of his being the friendly, funny butcher’s boy, consorting in secret with the heiress; when Will Davies kissed me at Breckenhall Quarry that day, he was the young man with strength in his hands, and nothing but goodness in his heart. The same hands and heart for which I would defy anyone, and in which I willingly placed the rest of my life. I had no idea, in the happy, heady arrogance of youth, that I would have to fight so hard to remain there.

Chapter Five

The train was quite full. I couldn’t even be sure Will was on it at all, and spent the entire journey in a state of agitation until I saw his dark head bobbing on the crowded platform by the second-class carriages. For the first time, I had the complete freedom to walk up to him in public, and I noticed one or two people looking twice at us and felt a second’s uncertainty, but they were only reacting to the sight of two excited youngsters and I made myself relax. The wind tugged at my hat, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before my neat curls were tumbling about my face, despite the care I had taken with them that morning; I had wanted Will to see me looking glamorous for once, instead of my usual windblown self, but he didn’t appear to even notice my efforts and I was caught between exasperation and amusement. His own dark hair was already whipped into spikes, and I hoped he would never decide to start using oils on it and tame that fresh, clean look that was so typical of him.

He took my hand and tucked it beneath his arm. ‘Where first?’

‘I am desperate to go on that captive flying machine,’ I said eagerly, pointing to the huge apparatus in the distance. ‘Ava went on it last year and screamed all the way around, so she said. Can you think of anything more exciting than screaming in public and not being glared at?’

Will laughed. ‘I might have guessed you’d make a beeline for that. Let’s go!’

I could quite see why Ava had screamed her head off. I did too, to start with, but then I just laughed, thrilled to be so high up, secured by the huge, spider-like arms that were, in turn, fixed to the central frame. Nestled against Will, his arm about my shoulder, I abandoned any attempt to hold my hat on and held it in my hand instead while we whizzed around in the chilly air, listening to the yells of the other riders.

We staggered off a little while later, still breathless and barely able to speak, but both of us grinning with delight. I put my hat back on, fiddling with the loosened hair-pins but it was a pointless exercise and Will removed it again, and bent to kiss me.

‘Now, tell me again how clever I am, and what a wonderful idea it was to come here.’

‘I suppose I could come to like it,’ I said, and ducked away as he swiped at me with my hat.

The day passed in a blur of sightseeing, paddling and funfair rides, and looking around the Winter Gardens, and eventually we even stopped looking over our shoulders. It was almost perfect. We had an early dinner then went for a walk, admiring the glittering beauty of thousands of lights against the night sky, and I finally admitted to Will that his idea was the best possible one, and that we must return to Blackpool one day soon. I had thought he might have wanted to visit his family, but the subject did not arise, and I didn’t want to make him feel obliged either to them, or to me.

The shadows lengthened and we had, by unspoken agreement, begun walking towards the train station, but I wasn’t ready to end the day yet. ‘Why don’t we see what’s showing at the theatre?’

‘We’re too late,’ he said, though reluctantly. ‘Whatever it is will have started by now.’

‘Well, there are a lot of people over there,’ I observed, pointing. A large group, mainly women, I noted, had gathered at the entrance to a small theatre across the street. ‘Perhaps there’s a late play. Come on, we can always get the last train.’

It wasn’t until we had crossed the road and were outside the theatre that we saw what had drawn the crowds, and Will frowned. ‘It’s anti-suffrage,’ he said. ‘Come on, let’s leave it.’

‘No, we’re here now. I’d like to hear what they have to say.’

‘Evie –’

‘I’m open-minded, it’s only fair,’ I pointed out. I was interested in seeing how this movement could possibly dispute the need for women’s votes; it was preposterous to think they might have a valid argument, and I knew I’d go away fully convinced of the rightness of my beliefs, but there was a sense of fair play that niggled. I wanted to hear both sides.

‘We’ll just stay for a short while,’ I promised.

‘All right. But no lecturing me on the way home,’ he warned. ‘You have a habit of preaching to the choir.’

‘No preaching,’ I said solemnly. ‘You have my word. Let’s go in.’

We were jostled on our way through, quite roughly, and seeing the purple, green and white badges and sashes I belatedly realised the majority of people were not here to listen to the speeches, but to protest them. It was tempting to tell them that I was on their side, that there was no need to shove, but Will pulled me through quickly and I made do with nodding understandingly at their colours instead.

Inside, I was surprised to see a generous crowd, with standing room only at the back, and as my eyes adjusted to the gloom I began to feel uneasy; there was an air of menace about some of these women, their expressions were not open and interested, as I believed mine was, but hard and determined. I hoped any heckling would not work against the cause, but acknowledged the movement had grown more and more militant over the past few years. Emily Davison’s death at the Derby back in June had fuelled things no end, and I’d heard awful stories about what went on at rallies.

I faced the front again as the first of the speeches began, and before five minutes had passed I knew I’d been right to come in. The anti-suffragists might well have supported women’s votes in local elections, but what was the use in that, if we were to have no say in Parliament? Nothing had changed, after all. I turned to Will to tell him we could go now, and as I did so, out of the corner of my eye I saw a small, tight band of women in WSPU colours move into the aisle and towards the stage with firm, purposeful strides.

One was holding a bucket of water which I assumed would soon be flung at the speaker, but two more waved an anti-suffrage banner, which surprised me until a flare of light made it all horrifically clear; a fourth Suffragette had touched a lighted match to the edge of the banner, and the flame took hold quickly. More quickly, it seemed, than the two ladies holding the banner had foreseen, and one of them dropped it with a shout. She stumbled backwards into the woman holding the bucket ready, just for this purpose I now realised, and the bucket thudded to the floor, spilling its contents.

‘Drop it in the water!’ someone cried, and the woman threw the burning banner towards where the carpet was wettest, but the water had soaked away and the fire burned greedily across the carpet and licked at the legs of the chairs closest to the stage. Panic was rippling through the people close enough to see what had happened, and although the fire was not a big one, it was spreading fast. Those who’d been seated closest to the aisle scrambled over their neighbours’ knees, while those who hadn’t fully grasped what was happening merely stared about them, bemused and in the way.

Will had seized my hand and started pulling the moment the banner had landed, or we wouldn’t have stood a chance. Someone shoved into me from behind and I nearly fell, but managed to keep my feet, and from behind me I could hear shouts and screams, and someone yelled that they had the fire extinguisher, and to stand back. But it was too late; panic had swept the room, mostly through those who couldn’t see what was happening, and although the fire was quickly brought under control, hysteria propelled people towards exits that were soon jammed.

The next time someone hit me from behind I knew I wouldn’t fall; there was nowhere to fall into. I, in turn, barrelled into the person in front, a woman who turned and shrieked into my face. Luckily I couldn’t hear her words or I might have let my own anger loose. Will’s arm came around my shoulder and I took comfort from his presence, while fighting the urge to shove with all my strength, to get through, to find a clear space and fresh air.

The noise level had risen by now to a deafening, shrill cacophony of voices, some begging for calm, others, like the woman in front of me, simply screaming in fearful frustration. Will’s strength held firm beside me, and he lowered his mouth to my ear so I could hear him without straining.

‘Steady, and keep moving. Don’t let go of me.’ He wrapped my arms around his waist, and whenever I stumbled he tightened his grip on my shoulder and kept talking to me in a low, steady voice to calm my shredded nerves. A crash sounded from up near the stage, and we turned to see the front row of people had tried to exit through the back of the stage, but brought down one of the scenery pillars which had been supporting the proscenium arch. The whole thing collapsed, and now the screams were terrible, and people were lying beneath the fallen scenery.

We were at the door now, bruised and shaken, but as I stumbled out into the blessed freedom of the lobby I felt Will’s hand drop away from my shoulder and he eased me away from him, holding my arms.

‘Go out onto the street,’ he said, urgent now. ‘I’ll meet you there.’

Before I could question him, he’d fought his way back into the auditorium, thrusting his way through the people still spilling out, who nevertheless parted instinctively to let him past. I was about to follow when a weeping voice stopped me, and I looked around to see a young girl in WSPU colours, sobbing and holding her arm across her chest. I felt a flash of anger towards her at first, then remembered my own recent, passionate beliefs in the movement, and drew her carefully out of the crowd where I could help her better.

For the most part my mind was with Will as he went back inside to help where he could, but I was able to lend half an ear to the girl, who was Scottish, very pretty, and about my own age. Her sobs, it turned out, were not for her injured arm, but for her little sister.

‘Please help me find her!’

‘How old is she?’

‘Twelve.’

My anger flooded back. ‘What on earth were you thinking, bringing such a young girl along to a rally?’

‘I wanted her to understand how important it all is,’ the girl said earnestly. ‘She needs to learn how the –’

‘Stop!’ I held up my hand. ‘I don’t need a lecture, you little idiot! Wait here, and don’t go anywhere. What’s her name?’ I looked around, but couldn’t see any children.

‘Helen. She has black hair and is wearing a green dress.’

I placed the young Suffragette firmly in a corner, where I could be reasonably sure of finding her again, then I followed Will’s example and pushed back into the auditorium.

Inside all was still chaos in the aisles, although most of the rows of seats were free of people now. I looked helplessly around, realising a twelve-year-old girl would be almost impossible to spot. Then I had an idea, and climbed over the back of the rear-most seats onto the ones in front, scanning the crowds as I went. From my vantage point I saw Will, helping a hobbling woman to a seat, and judged by the way she half-rose and then settled down, that he’d convinced her of the relative safety of staying where she was.

Taking my cue from his common sense, I climbed back down and began speaking to the people nearest me.

‘The fire’s out! It’s safe here, don’t push! Just sit down and wait, and you’ll get out quicker, and without injury! Sit down, just wait…’

Gradually the word seemed to filter through, and the shoving eased off. I began to ask people if they’d seen a twelve-year-old girl in a green dress but noone had. Just when I was starting to despair of ever finding her, and assumed she must have made her way outside after all, I saw a crumpled form near the edge of the stage. It was dressed in green. I scrambled back over the seats, my skirts held high, not caring who was watching, and yelled to Will, pointing with my free hand. We reached her at the same time, and I laid my hand on her back.

She jerked upright, gasping and terrified, and I could see blood matting her dark fringe.

‘Hush, Helen, it’s all right,’ I soothed.

She stared at me. ‘How do you know my name?’

‘Your sister has been looking for you,’ I said. ‘Sit still a moment, let’s make sure you’re fit to move.’

Will and I helped her to a sitting position, and I looked her over carefully. ‘Did you faint at all?’

‘I was hit on the head by something, but I didnae faint. I was a’scairt the rest of the scenery would come down on me, so I stayed curled up.’ The little girl had a lilting accent just like her sister’s, and would grow into a similar beauty one day. For now though she was tear-streaked and frightened, and hiccupped her way through a list of her bumps and bruises. None of them seemed serious, but Will asked her if she’d mind if he carried her anyway, just to be sure. She looked at him in awe and shook her head, and he scooped her up, carrying her easily and carefully through the thinning crowd.

I found the elder sister where I’d left her, and she swooped down on Helen with a cry of relief as Will lowered her carefully to the floor. ‘There y’are ya wee rascal! What did I tell ye about staying close?’

‘She was hit by some falling scenery,’ Will said, and the reproach in his voice halted the girl’s harangue. ‘I’m sure she’s fine, but you should get a doctor to look at her, she’s cut her head.’

‘I’m all right,’ Helen said in a small voice, and smiled shyly up at Will. I looked at him too, seeing him through her eyes, and felt a stirring of hero-worship myself. I met his embarrassed eyes and gave him a little smile.

‘We have a train to catch,’ I said. The two girls thanked us profusely, and as we left we could hear them talking excitedly about what had happened, and heard the older girl make Helen promise not to tell their parents what had happened.

Will grinned down at me and took my hand. ‘How about you, Florence Nightingale, are you all right?’

‘I’m better than that,’ I told him, ‘I’m a little bit more in love with you than I was before, if that’s possible.’

He laughed and waved a dismissive hand, but I was serious. I’d seen another side to him today: a courage that balanced the fun-loving side, and a calm strength that settled him just a little deeper into my heart. Walking beside him back towards the station I wanted everyone to know the bone-deep beauty of this man, and what he was capable of. I wanted people to look at me and envy me, and I wanted him to know how unutterably proud of him I was.