by Wendy Reakes
When they finally reached the bottom, they heard the music; the gentle tone of violins floating on chords of air to the back of the house. When they reached the door alongside the kitchen in the basement, Celia instructed Rain to wait, so that she could check the coast was clear, as she’d put it. Rain couldn’t count the number of times she’d heard Celia use that expression. And her mother too. Check the coast is clear!
They walked around the side of the building and as the music got louder and voices drifted on the back of a light summer breeze, they went through a tall garden gate inside a brick arch covered in climbing roses. Suddenly they were among people. Crowds of girls and boys, young and animated, laughing and talking. It was a shock for Rain. She had imagined the moment a thousand times since she’d heard the party was going to take place, but now, being among so many people, made her head spin with trepidation. Had she been sheltered so much by her mother and the way they lived, that she now feared the thought of open spaces and being among other people? Well, if that were the case, she was going to try her best to dispel that fear. Nothing was going to stop her having a marvellous time. It may be the only party she attended in her life time. She was going to make the most of it.
A hand touched her shoulder. “Hello, Rain.” She spun about to see Michael the groundsman. He was to be her uncle for the evening.
Her fingers signed ‘Hello’.
Celia said. “I will leave you now as I have my duties to see to. Please be careful and come find me if you need anything.”
Porter offered a small bow of the head. “Where would you like to go. I will escort you.”
Rain looked about at the glorious colours of the party in the garden, the dresses, the flowers, and the lights, and the orchestra playing glorious music in a far corner. How she wished she could dance.
She signed. ‘I would like to watch the dancing.’
Porter’s face looked like he’d lost a penny. “You want to dance.”
She laughed silently. ‘No, just to watch,’ she signed.
He laughed. “Phew,” he said as he offered his arm.
They walked through the crowd of girls and boys, their escorts standing aside watching their every move.
Suddenly the crowd parted like the red sea had parted for Moses. Everyone stopped and stared. The boy’s looks of approval made her blush, for hadn’t she read about such a thing in one of the books from the library? The girls were watching her too, reminding her of poor Jane Eyre when the beautiful guests of Mr Rochester regarded her plainness. Porter spurred her on. He seemed agitated as everyone stared so openly.
They walked past a group of young girls, giggling. ‘Where on earth did she get that ridiculous dress,’ one said. Rain felt as if she had been stabbed in the heart. The people around them were laughing. She tightened her grip on Porter’s arms. She could see his face redden with controlled anger.
Before they reached the end of the crowd, a man stopped them going any further by standing in the middle of their path. Rain wanted more than anything to run back to the house, to the safety of the attic, into the arms of her mother. Never again would she venture outside.
‘Mr Porter,’ the man said. ‘Who is this girl?’
“My niece, sir. Her name is Rain and she lives in Bridgewater with her mother.”
“Can she not speak for herself?”
“No, sir, she is mute.”
“Can she hear?”
Porter nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Very well.”
He looked around at the people surrounding them. “You were invited to my brother’s party; all between the ages of fifteen and eighteen years. We did not invite children. Who laughs at this girl? Who is childish and heartless that they would laugh at a girl who is mute? Who?”
The faces of the giggling girls turned away as if to accuse their companions and not take the blame themselves.
Rain watched the man stand up to them all, and it was then, at that very moment, Rain fell in love.
He introduced himself as Edward. He stood three or four inches taller than she and he was dressed so finely, the beauty of his tailored clothes seemed to illuminate his face to a handsome sheen.
His face was clean of hair, not like Old Porter’s whose beard covered his face. He was young looking, about twenty-five, twenty-six, she estimated, without blemishes of any sort. The feature she noticed most, was his broody eyes. Broody! She’d learned the meaning of the word from dear Jane Eyre when she described her Mr Rochester. Edward’s eyes were dark brown and as his brows enriched that darkness, the whites of his eyes shone through. White as freshly fallen snow.
In the background, the orchestra changed its tune and Edward asked her to dance. He stepped forward as Porter stepped away and then he put his hand on her waist as he stood erect in front of her. She looked up into his eyes and as her arm went over his shoulder, they began to dance as if they were dancing on clouds in heaven itself.
Chapter 28
War was declared on August 4th 1914 and now it was December, nearly Christmas.
“The war is becoming quite bloody,” said Celia as she and Marley sat on the bed finishing her embroidery. She had long ago completed the face of little William, but the hair, mostly black with touches of silver and white, had taken so many threads of silk, she had lost count. The face was an angelic one, all whites and pinks, and surely nothing like the face of the black-haired lout. She must have been mistaken when she first wondered if the image in Elizabeth’s embroidery had a connection to the man who would be Rain’s father. No, babies were babies, and when they grew, they looked nothing like the person they became. William was William with no connection whatsoever to the black-haired lout. Marley was sure of it.
“They’re calling it the Great War. It’s a terrible thing to happen.”
She nodded as she listened to Celia’s soothing voice. Celia always took the weekly newspaper after the master had finished with it. She read it before she put it among the newspapers kept for making up fires. Then, when they were alone sipping their tea, she’d relay the news to Marley as if she was a correspondent in a distant land.
“Our boys in the trenches are getting the worst of it.” she said. “You know, I read the Germans are fighting with Chlorine gas, yet there are few masks for the allies. They are dying, not just from the carnage caused by the weapons but they are also choking to death, Marley. Can you imagine that?”
“No, I cannot,” she responded while attempting to untangle a thread of silver. “I am glad of the information you bring though, Celia, otherwise, I’m sure the war would go by unnoticed by me.”
Celia looked to the windows from the cosy parlour where they were sitting. “Sometimes, I think I can hear the shells from here.”
“No, that’s impossible, dear. The war is far from here. We are hardly affected.”
“Hmm. Let’s hope it stays that way. I just pray none of our folk will be hurt. Could you imagine that, Marley?”
“No, dear, I could not.”
Chapter 29
RAIN
Rain listened to the two women discussing the war. It was a subject close to her heart, since Master Edward had left soon after the party to serve as a lieutenant. At least he wasn’t at the front, but that wasn’t to say he would never be posted there.
Every day since the party, she had dreamed of him; the man who had stolen her heart in a single moment. She had no control over her feelings or how her body responded when she thought about him. Her heart literally ached, a symptom she couldn’t believe was possible, even after Elizabeth Bennet had described such a malady in Pride & Prejudice. Now, Rain experienced it every day, and it wasn’t getting any better.
She was in love, but still no one realised it.
The night of the party had been a whirlwind of dancing and voices, music, wonderful food and her first taste of champagne. Edward had given all his attention to her, and it made her feel giddy.
When they had danced, he had asked her no questions. H
e had simply stared into her eyes, with his hand pressed on her waist. She was but a clumsy dancer. Celia had taught her a few steps on the terrace outside the attic, but she’d had little practice. Edward hadn’t seemed to notice, even when her missteps had hindered their rhythm to the music.
Later, with a lull in the dancing, as everyone stood around, talking and laughing and feasting on the fine food, Edward had held her hand and guided her to the back where a trellis of roses clung to a whitewashed wall. His gentleness had endeared him to her tenfold, when she realised he was remaining silent, as she remained silent. They spoke with their eyes and that was all that was needed. He loved her, she could tell. And she loved him, equally.
When the guests had toasted Master John’s birthday, Edward had stood alongside his mother and father and his younger brother, and while the attention was on them, Rain had taken a bold step backwards, mingling with the crowds.
She’d noticed him turn to find her, but at that moment, she knew if she’d stayed, the situation may have been hard to escape from. Sensibility had taken over.
When she’d looked for Porter, he was at her side within seconds. He only had to look at her face to know she wanted to flee. He’d guided her away, back through the garden and through the rear door, leading to the kitchen. It was the perfect time. The household servants were with the family, even their dearest Celia.
Up they went, along the corridors to the upper level, and while Porter never let go of her hand once, she still looked back with sincere remorse before he closed the attic door behind her.
Chapter 30
She could tell Rain was listening to their chatter. She was reading a book, Sense and Sensibility, yet she hadn’t turned a page since Marley and Celia had started talking.
Since Rain’s birthday and the party given for master John, Marley’s nerves had sorely been on edge. Rain seemed different now with a worldliness about her that was alien to her; her mother. Despite Marley’s selfish desires, and underneath the bitterness she felt for Celia upsetting the balance of their family, she still yearned for something better for her girl beyond the attic. She could keep her there forever, but surely, as she matured, she would resent her wholeheartedly, which was much worse than losing her to the outside world.
The day after the party, Michael came to the attic to speak with her, privately. Rain had been out on the terrace, where she spent most of her time those days. It was a warm summer day, yet Porter went past Marley and closed the glass doors and windows, preventing Rain from listening to their conversation.
He sat on the side of the bed and covered her hand with his.
She felt as if it wasn’t a loving touch, but a touch of sympathy so she pulled her hand from his grasp. “What is it, Michael?” She tried to hide her irritation by lowering her voice to speak in a calm tone.
He paused, as if he had rehearsed what he was about to say. That got her nerves fired up. “That must have been difficult for you last night, Marley.”
She picked up her embroidery. “More than you can ever know.”
He nodded solemnly. “Of course.”
A pause.
“Marley, you can’t stay here.”
“Oh, I see. You’re going to throw me out of my home.” She hoped to not sound bitter, but, honestly, she felt vexed. She’d lived in the attic for seventeen-years and now that Porter was back, he wanted her and Rain out. After all, it was his job. Yes, she saw that. But where…
“Marley!” He halted her thinking as he tilted her chin towards him. “I’m asking you to marry me.”
A pause.
She was stunned into silence. What on earth! Why would this wonderful man want her, a woman who had been sullied, who had borne a child out of wedlock, who had no dowry…nothing to offer? “You are surely jesting, Michael.”
Porter turned his face away. She couldn’t work out what was on his mind. Had she hidden away from folk for so long, that she had lost her once acute perceptions? Yes, she decided, he’d been joking, but, goodness, it was indeed a cruel joke.
Then Celia entered the parlour, intruding on their most intimate thoughts. Michael stood up while Celia sat on the floor at her feet. “How are you today, Marley dear?”
She tugged at the embroidery still resting on her lap. A piece of white thread had knotted and now she needed to correct a stitch. “How do you expect me to be, Celia? Everything is changing too quickly. I’m feeling anxious. That’s how I feel.” She had only realised that were true after Celia had asked the question. How hard it was for her to decipher her own thoughts as well as everyone else’s.
Celia placed her hand on Marley’s lap. “I understand.”
“Do you?” She couldn’t imagine her knowing what it was like for her. To lose her precious girl to the outside world rattled her bones, making her flesh quiver and her head throb with nervousness.
Michael turned to go. “I’ll leave you be.”
He stopped when Celia asked him, if he’d given Marley the letter.
“What letter?” What letter, what letter?
Michael slipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of white paper. He handed it to her. “It’s for Rain.”
She turned it over to see Rain’s name scribed on the front in fine handwriting. “Who is this from, and why do you have it?” She was on the verge of screaming, just to release the anger in the pit of her belly. Everything was suddenly stressful. Everything.
Michael spoke as if he too was in turmoil, but she couldn’t imagine why. “It was slipped under my door this morning. It’s from master Edward.”
She stared at the flow of the hand, as she imagined him, a peer of the realm, writing her daughter’s name in blue ink.
“They met last night, Marley. I believe they were both smitten.”
She rose to her feet in uncontrolled fury. “Smitten? Oh, my word. What have you two done. What have you done?” She wanted to rage, to make a fist and strike someone. Where had that temper come from? She had always been such a level-headed sort of girl. But the sensation of anger had become more and more familiar to her.
Celia’s face crumbled as she looked straight at Marley. Rain had walked in from the terrace, curious why her mama was so red in the face and why Celia was on the verge of tears and why Porter had turned about and stormed from the parlour to go through the forest of furniture and back to his life downstairs.
Chapter 31
RAIN
The thought of EDWARD being killed in the war provoked silent sobs from Rain. Fear flooded her heart making a torrent of screams escape her lungs; screams which no one could hear. Since that first night, when she’d cried in front of her mother when she’d declined to let her to go to the party, Rain still hadn’t spoken a word. She had tried, many times, but still no sound came from her barren lips.
Rain felt more alone now than she’d ever felt before. Marley had been right about that. Since she had enjoyed a moment of freedom from the attic, nothing had seemed the same again. Her heart swelled when she thought about the man she was in love with, and her heart swelled when she took a glance over the side of the roof terrace to the grounds below where people came and went, where life went on as normal…normal as normal was.
At night, with her mother asleep at her side, Rain thought about the music that the orchestra had played that night, and she thought about the fine food which made her empty stomach growl, and she thought about dancing, swaying, feeling Edward’s hand around her waist, and she thought about the lives of the other young people surrounding her. It was a whole new world to the one she was used to and now she was desperate for another piece of it.
On the 4th December, unhappy news reached her ears. The master, Lord Wilbury, had been killed whilst visiting the boys in the trenches. He’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, when a German sniper put a bullet through his heart.
‘A bullet through the heart’ was how Rain had felt when she heard the news from Celia.
As the household went into
mourning, the only thought on her mind was how, overnight, Edward had become Earl of Wilbury and how, he too now served on the front line.
When her mother approached her that afternoon, Rain was in turmoil, holding her stomach, as aches and pains stabbed at her as if she too was under fire. “Darling,” Marley announced as she came up behind Rain sitting out on the terrace with a blanket wrapped around her. The days were colder now, even when the sun shone as it had today. “Come inside. It’s cold out here.”
She shook her head as tears began to flow down her cheeks.
Marley took her hand and sat next to her. Beyond the balustrade, the sky shone blue, the trees in the distance bare of its leaves. “Tell me what’s wrong, dearest. Please! You are always so forlorn these days. What is it?”
Rain turned and buried her face into her mother’s shoulder. Her silent sobs made her entire body shake. She felt Marley stroking her hair. She sat up so that she could use her hands to sign. ‘I am in love…I’m sorry, mama. I can’t help it.’ Tears fell down her face in a torrent, as she became exasperated by her inability to speak.
Marley’s face was stricken. Rain had never seen the expression on her mother’s face before. How she hated herself for being the one responsible for putting it there. Suddenly a sound expelled from her mother. Surely her ears were deceiving her. All her life, she had never heard herself say a word, but now she had said one. “Mama.”
Marley shook her head as if she was grieving. She took hold of Rain’s shoulder and held her next to her warm body. “Oh, my dearest girl. My dearest…”
They both looked at each other and they both laughed. Rain was silent now, but they both knew at that moment, that for her to speak normally could indeed be possible.
“What a day!” Marley announced. “First the shocking news of the master’s death and now my girl has spoken her first word.”
