No Wings to Fly (60 page)

Later, as if hardly aware of what she was doing, she got up from the chair and went to the fireplace and looked into the mirror that hung above the mantelpiece. In the grey light she stared at her face in the glass, as if searching there for some sign of what had happened, as if Joel’s words might be engraved upon her brow. Her eyes, red-rimmed,
gazed back at her, dry as bone after the sleepless night. Through all the hours she had not shed a tear. Inside her heart, inside her head, she felt empty.

After a little while Joshua awakened, sat up in the bed and called out, ‘Mammy?’ and then ‘Nursie?’ and Lily at once went to his side. ‘I’m here,’ she said. ‘It’s Lily. Lily’s here.’

‘Lily?’ he said, and then, suddenly comprehending, yawned and gave her a smile. ‘Lily,’ he said.

‘Yes, darling,’ she said, ‘it’s Lily.’

‘Is Mammy here?’

‘No, but you’ll be seeing her soon.’

He looked at her with widening eyes for a moment as memory returned, then said, ‘Oh, yes – I’ll be seeing her in Scotland. Are we going away today? Is it today we’re going?’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘On the train.’ He was sitting up in the bed. ‘We’re going on the train, aren’t we?’

‘Yes, a long way. We’re going a very long way.’

And suddenly, with her words, there came the almost overwhelming desire to leave, to get away, to escape. She would like to run, to run and never stop running. She would like to go now, this minute.

As if connecting with her thoughts, tapping into the spring of her emotion, the boy said, ‘Are we going soon, Lily?’

‘Yes, we are.’ A little wave of relief swept over her at the thought. ‘Yes, soon,’ she said. ‘We shall be leaving very soon.’

‘What will ye do when you’ve delivered Joshua to his mama?’ Mrs Lemmon said. ‘Will you come back here?’

‘I don’t know,’ Lily said. ‘I haven’t decided.’ She and the cook were standing in the kitchen, where Lily had gone
after she had picked at her lunch in the room beside it. ‘I shall probably go on back to Sherrell,’ she said. She was already wearing her hat and coat, ready for the journey, eager to depart.

‘But you’ve got your things here, haven’t you?’ Mrs Lemmon said.

‘Well, yes – a few things,’ Lily replied. ‘Clothes – some books. But I don’t need them in a hurry. I can come back and collect them in a few days.’ Mr Shad would help her, she was sure. ‘If it’s not inconvenient,’ she added.

‘Inconvenient? No, of course not, dear. We shall be here for a few weeks yet, and Mr Soameson will be coming back down to help get things sorted out.’ She paused, looking at Lily with a slight frown. ‘Are ye all right, miss?’

‘All right?’

‘Well, you look a little – distracted, if I might say so.’

‘No, I – I’m fine. I’m all right.’

‘Your eyes are a little red – a mite bloodshot.’

‘Oh.’ Lily brushed the remark aside with a wave of her hand. ‘I – I didn’t sleep so well last night.’

‘Oh, dearie me, that’s a shame – when you’ve got such a journey in front of you. But I must say, I’m not too surprised. It’s quite an undertaking – such a jaunt. It’s so long. Endless. And with a four-year-old boy.’

‘Well . . .’ Lily shrugged. ‘It has to be done.’

‘Aye, no question of that. From here to London, and then on to Edinburgh.’ She shook her head and sighed. ‘Have you ever been to London?’

‘No, never.’

Mrs Lemmon nodded. ‘Well, that’s going to be something for you – a new experience. And going across London from one station to another, you’ll see something of the place. I’ve done it a few times – and it’s not to be forgotten. You’ve never seen such sights, believe me.’ She shook her shoulders in a little dramatic shudder. ‘I couldna live there,
I know that much. It’s filthy – everything just covered in soot and grime.’

Lily merely nodded. She found it hard to concentrate on what was being said. Her mind was spinning. She did not want to make polite, idle conversation, she wanted only to be alone – alone with the child – and to go, to start out on the journey. ‘Well, I don’t plan on spending longer there than I have to,’ she said, ‘and as for the journey, it’s got to be done.’

‘Aye, it has. Have you everything ready?’

‘Yes. I’ve packed our bags. With advice from Nurse.’

‘Good. That’s good. I’ve made some sandwiches for the two of you. Some potted meat, and some cheese, and a little cold beef.’

‘So much,’ Lily said.

‘Not so much – you’ll both get hungry on that long journey. What about money? Have you got enough? Mrs Soameson left money with Nurse for any expenses for the trip.’

‘Yes, it’s all arranged. Nurse let me have it. I’ve got my wages too.’ Lily hid her impatience. ‘I don’t need anything. We’ll manage just fine.’

‘Of course you will. How is the child? Is he all right?’

‘Yes. He’s with Nurse now, saying his goodbyes. He’s mostly over his cold. He’s seemed so much better over the past couple of days. I’ll look after him, don’t worry.’

Mrs Lemmon smiled. ‘Of course you will. What time are you leaving?’

‘Very soon. We have to get the 3.33 from Corster. I just have to bring my bag downstairs and get Joshie into his coat, then we’ll be ready to go.’

Lily went to see the boy’s nurse then, in the little room where she sat with Joshua on the old couch. Miss Cattock was feeling so much better today, and hoped very soon to be getting about as well as before. After discussing with the
nurse what the boy should wear, Lily took him upstairs to the nursery and got him into his outdoor clothes. Over his sailor suit she put on his light grey ulster, and then set his hat on his head and fastened it beneath his chin. The bag holding their belongings was nearby. In it she had packed the things that the child would need on the long journey and for his night’s sleep on the Edinburgh-bound train. His stuffed rabbit was in there too; his toy horse he would carry. For herself Lily had packed the things she thought she would need for the next few days, until that time when she had delivered the boy to his new home in Edinburgh, and she was back in England.

‘There you are – all ready to go.’ Crouching before the boy, she leant back a little to take him more fully into her vision, and gave a little nod of approval. ‘And such a very handsome boy too.’ She smiled. ‘Just one or two things to go into the bag then we’ll go downstairs.’ As she moved to get up, he said, a little note of anxiety in his voice, ‘Did you pack Bunny?’

‘Yes, I did, my dear. Never fear. And you’ve got Mr Charlie Dobbin safe, haven’t you? We can’t leave them behind, can we? They’re yours.’

He smiled. ‘Yes, they are. They belong to me, don’t they?’

‘They most certainly do, and they wouldn’t be happy with anybody else.’

‘No, they wouldn’t. Mr Charlie and Bunny belong to me, but I belong to Mama and Papa. Is that right, Lily?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, you do.’

‘Yes, Vinnie does, too. Everybody belongs to somebody. Who do you belong to, Lily?’

She gave a little laugh. ‘What? Oh – I belong to me,’ she said, and then, glancing at the clock, ‘Heavens, look at the time. We’ll be leaving soon.’

He was silent a moment, then he said, ‘Are we coming back here?’

‘No, we’re not. You’ll be living in Edinburgh from now on. In Scotland.’

He nodded and looked around him, his glance taking in some of his other toys where they lay on the shelf by the chimney and on the chest in the corner of the room, and in a wooden box by the fire. ‘What about all my other things?’ he said. ‘What about my top, my ball, my soldier with his drum? Will they all stay here?’

‘Well, only for a little while,’ Lily said. ‘Later on they’ll all be packed up and taken up to Scotland, and you’ll get them there.’

‘All of them?’

‘Yes, all of them.’

‘Ah.’ He nodded, relieved. He pointed then to pictures that hung on the wall; one depicted some kittens playing with a ball of yarn, the other showed colourful fish among waterweeds. ‘My kittens and my fishes – will they go too?’

‘Yes, they will. Of course they will.’

‘I’ve never seen fishes,’ he said. ‘Only dead ones, in the kitchen. Have you ever seen fishes, Lily?’

‘Oh, yes, I’ve seen them. At the aquarium.’

‘The what?’

‘The aquarium. It’s in Corster. Oh, it’s a wonderful place. So many different kinds of fish – all swimming about.’

His mouth opened a little in awe. ‘And you can see them?’

‘Yes, of course. Anyone can go and see them.’

He nodded. ‘One day I’ll see them too.’

‘Oh, I’ve no doubt you will,’ she said. ‘Listen, I’m sure in Edinburgh they must have a fine aquarium. It’s a big, beautiful city.’

‘Is it? Is it bigger than Pilching?’

‘Oh, much, much bigger. It’s a wonderful place, and I know you’re going to be very happy there.’

‘Am I?’

‘Oh, yes, without doubt.’

‘And will you be staying in Scotland? Will you be staying with me there?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘No, I’m afraid not.’

‘Oh.’ The word had a little dying fall. He sounded disappointed. ‘Why not?’

When she did not answer in time, he added, ‘I wish you would, Lily.’

‘Do you?’ she said.

‘Yes, I do. We could do reading from my blocks again.’

‘Oh, yes, we could certainly do that.’

‘Where will you go, Lily?’

‘Go?’

‘Well, if you don’t stay in Scotland with me and Vinnie, will you go somewhere else?’

She nodded. ‘Yes – I expect so.’

‘Where will you go?’

‘What . . .?’

‘Will you go home?’

Home. The word seemed to hang in the air.

‘Where is it, Lily?’ he said. ‘Where is your home?’

She remained there for a second longer, crouching before him, then she straightened and got to her feet. ‘Come, we must go,’ she said. ‘Mr Beeching will have the trap ready. We mustn’t be late.’ She turned, bent and picked up the bag. It was surprisingly heavy. ‘Let’s go downstairs.’

Minutes later all the goodbyes had been said with Mrs Lemmon, Susie and Emily Cattock. The three had given their good wishes for a pleasant journey, and had kissed the child. Now it was time to go. With Mrs Lemmon and Susie watching from the back door, Lily took Joshua by the hand and went into the yard. As she did so, Mr Beeching came towards them, took up Lily’s travelling bag and placed it in the well of the trap. Then, turning, he helped Lily in, afterwards lifting up the boy. She grasped the
child and he, holding his toy horse, settled on the seat beside her.

‘Are we going to Scotland now?’ he said.

‘Yes, we are,’ Lily replied.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Good.’

Moments later Mr Beeching had taken the mare by the bridle and was leading her down the drive towards the road.

As the wheels and the horse’s hooves crunched on the gravel, Lily looked around her. The wind that had blown last night had died away, but at its height it had stripped the trees of the last remaining leaves and scattered them all over the garden. The sky above was dark, and heavy clouds were gathering. She sat with her arm around the child as he nestled against her, Mr Charlie Dobbin in his hands. She felt a sense of finality as they moved away; her time here at the house was over. She would only see it again when she came back to collect her belongings, and she had told Mrs Lemmon that that might not be for several days. She would never sleep in her room here again, never teach again in the schoolroom. When she returned from Edinburgh she must go on to Rowanleigh. There was nowhere else to go, and once again she would throw herself on the comfort and temporary security of Miss Elsie’s kindness. She thought of the boy’s words up in the nursery, when he had asked, ‘Where is your home?’ She had not had an answer for him then, and she did not have an answer now.

The carriage came to a halt as Mr Beeching let go the mare’s bridle and went to open the gates onto the road. It would take them an hour to get to Corster, via Pilching, where eventually they would pick up their connection for London. Lily did not care how long it took. In her mind the journey to Edinburgh stretched out ahead, seemingly without end, and she was glad of it. For one thing, she was so relieved to get away from the confines of the house
where there was nothing to distract her from her thoughts. More than that, though, and the most important thing of all, this journey gave her time with the child. That, for now, was all that mattered. It was all she had. There were only these immediate hours before her. Beyond them, there was nothing.

The gates were open, and Mr Beeching was moving back to the mare. As he came to her side and caught the bridle, a figure appeared around the tall privet hedge, a young lad in a grey uniform and a cap with a scarlet badge above its peak. The telegraph boy, Lily realised. He came through the gate and said to Mr Beeching as he approached, ‘Telegraph for Miss Clair, sir. The Gables. Am I in the right place?’

‘Ye certainly are, laddie,’ Mr Beeching said, gesturing to Lily, ‘The lady’s sittin’ here.’

‘Ah, righto.’ The boy came round the side of the trap and reached up and put a small envelope into Lily’s hand. Then, with a touch at his cap, he turned and started away. Lily looked at the envelope and Joshua said, ‘You got a letter, Lily.’

‘It’s a telegraph, Joshie,’ she said.

She realised that Mr Beeching was standing waiting, still with one hand on the mare’s bridle. She tore open the envelope.

It contained one single sheet of paper, an official form with a printed heading and a brief message written in pencil, all in uppercase:

HOPE THIS REACHES YOU BEFORE YOU SET OUT STOP LAVINIA SCARLET FEVER STOP DO NOT BRING JOSHUA YET STOP WAIT WEEK STOP WILL WRITE LATER STOP MRS SOAMESON

Lily sat looking at the words. She was not to take the boy
to Edinburgh after all. He was not to go for at least a week.

So what now? Why, after a few days she must depart from the house, leaving the boy in the care of his nurse, whose ankle was growing stronger and who would, when the time came, be able enough to take him to his new home.

‘Everything all right, miss?’

Mr Beeching’s voice came as if from a great distance into her tumbling thoughts.

‘I – I beg your pardon, sir,’ Lily said, coming out of her fog. ‘What did you say?’