Read Poor Little Rich Girl Online

Authors: Katie Flynn

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

Poor Little Rich Girl (14 page)

Miss Hutchinson’s cheeks began to mottle red and her eyes darted about more furiously than ever, but when she spoke her voice was steady, though low. ‘I – I was jealous, I’m afraid. Miss Hetherington-Smith
is not an easy lady and has frequently told me that many other women could do my job a good deal better than I can. I was afraid she might dismiss me when you and the child arrived and you must see how – how vulnerable I am. I could not get another post, and though I have been saving up for many years I have not managed to amass a decent sum. In short, I am as dependent upon Miss Hetherington-Smith’s goodwill as on the money she pays me.’

‘I do understand, and I’m very grateful,’ Hester said. ‘Indeed, if Miss Hetherington-Smith charges you three-quarters of your salary for your keep, as she does me, you must be in a desperate situation indeed.’

‘Three-quarters of your …’ Miss Hutchinson gasped. ‘Why, Miss Elliott, you should not be paying
anything
for your keep. Only – only please don’t tell Miss Hetherington-Smith that I said any such thing or I know she’ll dismiss me out of hand.’

‘I won’t say a word,’ Hester assured her. ‘I wonder, Miss Hutchinson, that it did not occur to you that, with my dismissal, you yourself might be expected to take charge of the child.’

Miss Hutchinson heaved a huge sigh and dabbed at her mouth with a tiny lace-edged handkerchief. ‘It did,’ she said baldly. ‘Yes, such a thought did occur to me and quite frankly, Miss Elliott, it terrified me. I am far too old for such a charge and though I’ve seen very little of Miss Leonora I know a spoiled and wilful child when I see one. She would run rings round me and have the house in an uproar and, of course, I should be blamed. And there are the two flights of stairs up to the schoolroom – I have rheumatism in my knees and ankles – oh, Miss Elliott, just ascending
and descending those stairs would kill me, I know it would!’

‘Then I shall do my very best not to be dismissed,’ Hester said, smiling. ‘It’s been good of you to talk so freely, Miss Hutchinson, when I know how dangerous you must have felt it to be. I shall certainly heed your advice, though now that I see Miss Hetherington-Smith each morning to tell her of our plans for that day, I always do my best to be polite. Perhaps, however, I could be a little … humbler … if you think that would be more acceptable than mere politeness. And I hope you know me well enough by now to be sure I shan’t breathe a word of this to anyone. If I tackle Miss Hetherington-Smith about my salary, I shall tell her that I met another governess in the park and she told me that neither she nor any of her friends contributed towards their keep. But I’m hoping it will not be necessary, since, after all, it is Mr Hetherington-Smith who pays me. His sister only passes the money on – or doesn’t, as the case may be. Shall we join Miss Leonora now, or are you in a hurry to get back to the house?’

‘I think I had best be getting back,’ Miss Hutchinson said regretfully and Hester realised that once she had begun to talk, the older woman had positively enjoyed sharing her worries. ‘I feel very much better for having told you what has been happening, Miss Elliott, and I trust we may have other, though happier, conversations in the future. Ah, here comes Miss Leonora. She must have grown tired of waiting for you. And now I’d best be off or Miss Hetherington-Smith might begin to ask awkward questions.’

‘Oh, Hester, isn’t it a perfectly lovely day? Daddy always used to say that spring in England was the
most beautiful season, but then he’d sort of look at me out of the corner of his eye and say, “Except for autumn!” and he and Mummy – and me – would laugh like anything, because Mummy used to say Daddy liked to have his cake and eat it, even when he was talking about the seasons. Well, I know we didn’t really see the spring, because we were too late, but autumn … !’ Lonnie took a deep breath and gazed expressively around her. They were crossing St John’s Gardens, bound for the fashionable shops on Church Street and Bold Street, but had paused to better appreciate the brilliant foliage of the autumn-tinted trees and the blue arc of the sky overhead. Lonnie thought suddenly that this was as lovely as anything India had offered. Lovelier in a way since it was gentler, more peaceful. She realised with an inward start that she was beginning to like England for itself, though she still remembered India and her life there with wistful pleasure. ‘Oh, autumn is just
lovely
, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, it’s even better than I had imagined. The colours are indescribable, which is probably why your father prefers it to spring,’ Hester began, only to be interrupted.

‘I don’t think he really preferred it to spring, I think it was a sort of joke between him and Mummy,’ Lonnie explained. ‘It’s a bit like me when I’m talking about India. Looking back, the bungalow in the hills seemed the most beautiful place on earth, except for the garden of our Delhi house, but sometimes I think you don’t really remember things exactly as they are, you remember the good bits and sort of cut the bad out of your memory. What do you think, Hester?’

‘I think we ought to get a move on, since we’ve got a full day’s shopping ahead of us,’ Hester said,
setting off at a smart pace and emerging into William Brown Street. ‘I know you want to visit the library, but perhaps we should leave that for later? After all, it isn’t every day that your father sends us a money order for winter clothes, is it?’

‘No, but I’m awfully glad he’s done so,’ Lonnie said pensively. ‘He must have understood what was going on from your letter, though I was afraid he wouldn’t. You didn’t really grumble about Aunt’s meanness and you didn’t say how hard it was to get your salary paid, yet Daddy has come up trumps. But fancy sending the money order to you, Hester! Whatever did you say to my aunt? She can’t have been pleased, she’s so fond of telling us that she can’t afford this, that or the other. I suppose you felt you had to admit you’d had the money?’

‘Goodness, yes, though I didn’t tell her what a large amount your father had sent! And she wasn’t too bad at all, in fact. I told her that your father was going to write to her but apparently she had already received the letter. She knew all about the money order, you see … so what a good job I had decided to tell her about it! If I had not … well, we won’t even think about that!’

‘So what did she say?’ Lonnie persisted. She could not imagine Aunt Emmeline being pleased to find that her niece’s governess had been sent money to buy clothing and secretly hoped that her aunt had been both furious and humiliated, but it seemed that it was not so.

‘Say? Well, nothing very much except that Mr Hetherington-Smith had been more than generous and she hoped I would make sure that the clothing we purchased would last for at least three years. And … well, I shouldn’t really tell you this, Lonnie,
and you must be sure to forget I’ve done so, but when she waved your father’s letter at me I’m pretty sure there was a money order in it. So you see, she’s had a present of some money for clothes as well as us.’

There was a short pause whilst Lonnie considered this, then she gave a crow of amusement. ‘He’s bribed her!’ she exclaimed joyfully. ‘That means he understands what sort of a woman she is … oh, I am glad you told me, Hester! In my heart I’ve always felt a little worried and anxious in case she wrote lies about us to Daddy and he believed her. But he won’t, will he? Because he knows how she is.’

‘I think you’re right, but remember, forget I ever said anything like that,’ Hester said. ‘And now for a real shopping spree – did I tell you that Mr Hetherington-Smith said we were to buy such things as a sled and ice-skates for when the weather gets really cold?’

‘Yes, you did, though since neither you nor I have ever seen frost, let alone snow, I don’t suppose we’ll be able to use such things … unless we get Ben Bailey to show us how,’ Lonnie remarked, skipping along beside her governess and eyeing the passing shops with more than her usual interest. ‘I really hated him when we first came to England, but I don’t now. I can’t say I like him very much, but he isn’t as bad as I first thought. Mr and Mrs Bailey and Dick are really nice, though. Easily the nicest people we know.’

‘That’s because we’ve seen more of them, I expect,’ Hester said. ‘Ben works whenever he can … he really is a help to his parents, you know, Lonnie. You should like him because of that.’

‘But you can’t like people just because they’re good or noble or stuff like that,’ Lonnie pointed out. She felt
that this was a fact too often ignored by grown-ups, even such nice ones as Hester, of whom she was by now truly fond. ‘There’s something inside you and something inside them and if the two clash, well, they clash. It’s a bit like me and old rabbit-Hutch. You keep telling me she’s all right really, she means well, she warned you to be a bit smarmier with Aunt Emmeline, but unfortunately every time I see her chumbling away and blinking and twitching her nose I just think
that person isn’t to be trusted
, and that’s that!’

‘You sound like a little old woman,’ Hester said, laughing, as they crossed the road and headed for the nearest shops. ‘I do hope you’re wrong, though. Hutch – I mean Miss Hutchinson – really does mean well, or so I believe.’

Lonnie, who still distrusted her aunt’s companion, was beginning to disagree when her governess paused outside a large plate glass window. ‘Here’s Lewis’s. It’s an excellent place to start for there is a great deal of choice in such a big department store.’ Hester said. ‘Shall we take a look inside?’

Lonnie agreed eagerly and the two of them entered the store’s imposing portals and made their way to the children’s clothing department. The shopping expedition, to which they had been looking forward ever since Mr Hetherington-Smith’s letter and money order had arrived, was about to begin.

By lunchtime the two girls had so many bandboxes, packets and parcels that they were quite unable to carry them and had to leave them in the charge of the store whilst they made their way up to the beautiful restaurant on the top floor. ‘We’ll have a really good luncheon,’ Hester said, and Lonnie
saw that her governess’s eyes were sparkling with excitement and pleasure, for Lonnie had not been the only one buying new clothes. Hester had bought two skirts, one navy pleated to be worn with a white blouse and navy jacket and the other pale green with a diamond pattern around the hem and a matching cardigan. She told Lonnie that she had sufficient underwear and stockings to last her for some time, but admitted that she could do with more warm clothing for the winter days to come.

After they had had luncheon, they returned to the fray and Lonnie was soon provided with warm woollen dresses, cosy cardigans, woollen stockings and an overcoat so ample that the shop lady had told them it would do Lonnie for at least three winters. Then boredom crept in. Clothes were all very well but choosing them, Lonnie realised, was not the fun she had imagined it would be. The shop assistants did not seem to like it when she wanted to take the first garment they produced and kept bringing out alternatives, saying she must have a good choice. However, as soon as Hester pronounced herself satisfied with their purchases from the children’s department, they moved on to hats and gloves, and once Lonnie had seen her governess absorbed she made her way unobtrusively to a wide window seat, settled herself on the cushions with her nose pressed against the glass, and, with her eyes fixed on the panorama of Liverpool rooftops, proceeded to let her imagination wander.

Naturally enough, with her father’s generosity so much on her mind, Lonnie’s thoughts flew back to her former life. When her mother had first died, she had been unable to think of her without becoming overcome by the sadness of her loss, but that had been
almost two years ago. Now, she could remember her mother and the happy times they had had together with a sort of nostalgic pleasure. Her father, too, was a favourite subject to dwell upon, as was her
ayah
and Diga, her
syce
. Diga had been fourteen years old when he had first begun to take the missie-sahib out on Domino, her favourite pony. Together they had roamed the streets and parks of the city, although never going more than a short distance from home. Diga had been friendly but firm and had never allowed her the freedom for which she had longed. ‘It is dangerous for a missie-sahib to venture too far from home,’ he had told her instructively. ‘I know you long to visit the old city because that’s where the best bazaars are to be found. But such places are dangerous and the gardens surrounding Connaught Place are very beautiful and spacious. Far more suitable for pony riding than the narrow streets of the old city, which is full of bad people who might try to do you harm. That is why your father employs me to keep you safe, and I cannot keep you safe if we go into the dangerous places.’

Lonnie had thought that this was just an excuse to deny her the bazaars, the little narrow streets thronged with Indians, the riverside walks and the places where snake charmers, tight-rope walkers and other such entertainers exhibited their mysteries. These things had been glimpsed in passing when she was riding in one of her father’s motor cars, but even her indulgent parent refused to linger in such places. Now, Lonnie thought sadly that when people talked of the mysteries of the East, they might have been referring to the very delights which her father had denied her. She and Hester sometimes talked of India and she had speedily realised that her governess’s
experiences had been very different from her own. Hester knew the real India, the India which Lonnie dreamed about, and when she could be persuaded to talk freely of it she held Lonnie as spellbound as she held the Baileys, though Lonnie always tried to hide the fact and pretend that she, too, knew all about the great jungles and the creatures that inhabited them.

For after their first visit to the Baileys’ household, she and Hester had revisited Elmore Street several times, usually going in the afternoon and returning in time for nursery supper. On the last occasion Hester had bought a cake at Fuller’s, a walnut cake, covered thickly with white frosting, and Lonnie had been astonished at the almost reverent pleasure with which Mrs Bailey had greeted it when Hester had handed it over. The older woman had offered to cut it there and then and when Hester had refused a piece, saying it was more suitable for teatime, Mrs Bailey had admitted that an object so magnificent would thrill the whole family and had put it away in a sort of wire cage beneath the kitchen window so that the others might see it, untouched and splendid, before they began to eat it that evening. Hester and Lonnie had lingered, sharing the Baileys’ supper and enjoying a slice of the beautiful cake.

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