by Wendy Reakes
They walked past a group of young girls, giggling. ‘Where on earth did she buy 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 born 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 declaredon August 4th 1914 and now it was December, nearly Christmas.
“The war is becoming quite bloody,” said Celia as I sat on the bed finishing my embroidery. I 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, I had lost count. The face was an angelic one, all whites and pinks, and surely nothing like the face of the black-haired lout. I must have been mistaken when I 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. I was sure of it.
“They’re calling it the Great War. It’s a terrible thing to happen.”
I nodded as I 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 we were alone sipping our tea, she’d relay the news to me 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.” I 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 discuss 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. He 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 away, 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 remining silent, as she remined 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 them.
Chapter 30
I could tell Rain was listeningto our chatter. She was reading a book, Sense and Sensibility, yet she hadn’t turned a page since she and Celia had started talking.
Since Rain’s birthday and the party given for master John, my nerves have sorely been on edge. Rain seemed different now with a worldliness about her that was alien to me; her mother. Despite my selfish desires, and underneath the bitterness I felt for Celia upsetting the balance of our family, I still yearned for something better for my girl beyond the attic. I could keep her there forever, but surely, as she matured she would resent me wholeheartedly, which was much worse than losing her to the outside world.
The day after the party, Michael had come to the attic to speak with me, 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 me and closed the glass doors and windows, preventing Rain from listening to our conversation.
He’d sat on the side of the bed and covered my hand with his.
I’d felt as if it wasn’t a loving touch, but a touch
of sympathy so I pulled my hand from his grasp. “What is it, Michael?” I tried to hide my irritation by lowering my voice to speak in a calm tone.
He paused, as if he had rehearsed what he was about to say. That got my nerves fired up, good and proper. “That must have been difficult for you last night, Marley.”
I’d picked up my embroidery. “More than you can ever know.”
He’d 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.” I’d hoped to not sound bitter, but, honestly, I had felt a little vexed. I’d lived in the attic for seventeen-years and now that Porter was back, he wanted me and Rain out. After all, it was his job. Yes, I saw that. But where…
“Marley!” He halted my thinking as he tilted my chin towards him. “I’m asking you to marry me.”
A pause.
I was stunned into silence. What on earth! Why would this wonderful man want me, 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. I couldn’t work out what was on his mind. Had I hidden away from folk for so long, that I had lost my once acute perceptions? Yes, I’d decided, he’d been surely joking, but, goodness me, it was a cruel joke.
Then Celia had entered the parlour, intruding on our most private thoughts. Michael had stood up while Celia sat on the floor at my feet. “How are you today, Marley dear?”
I’d tugged at the embroidery still resting on my lap. A piece of white thread had knotted and now I 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.” I had only realised that were true after she’d asked me the question. How hard it was for me to decipher my own thoughts as well as everyone else’s.
Celia placed her hand over mine. “I understand.”
“Do you?” I couldn’t imagine her knowing what it was like for me. To lose my precious girl to the outside world rattled my bones, making my flesh quiver and my head throb with nervousness.
Michael turned to go. “I’ll leave you be.” He stopped when Celia asked him, if he’d given me 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 me. “It’s for Rain.”
I turned it over to see her name scribed on the front in fine handwriting. “Who is this from, and why do you have it?” I was on the verge of screaming to release the anger in the pit of my belly into the rafters. Everything had become tumultuous. Everything.
Michael spoke as if he too was in turmoil but I couldn’t imagine why. “It was slipped under my door this morning. It’s from master Edward.”
I stared at the flow of the hand, as I imagined him, a peer of the realm, writing my daughter’s name in blue ink.
“They met last night, Marley. I believe they were both smitten.”
I rose to my feet in uncontrolled fury. “Smitten? Oh, my word. What have you two done. What have you done?” I wanted to rage, to fist my hands and lash out at anything or anyone. Where had that temper come from? I was always such a level-headed sort of girl. But the sensation of anger was becoming more and more familiar to me.
Celia’s face had crumbled as she looked straight at me. Rain had walked in from the terrace with an expression of intense curiosity. 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, back to his life downstairs.
Chapter 31
RAIN
The thought of EDWARDbeing killed in the war provoked silent sobs from Rain. Fear flooded her heart making a torrent of screams escape her lungs; screams that no one could hear. Since that first night, when she had cried in front of her mother when she’d refused to allow 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 had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, when a German sniper had put a bullet through his heart.
‘A bullet through the heart’ was how Rain 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 was now serving on the front line.
When her mother approached her that afternoon, Rain had been 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 that 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 just one. “Mama.”
Marley shook her head as if she was grieving. She took hold of Rain’s shoulder and held her 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 was indeed possible.
“What a day!” Marley announced. “First the shocking news of the master’s death and now my girl has spoken her first word.”
Rain became sober again. She shook her head in despair.
Marley lifted her chin. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a bundle of six letters.
Rain frowned as her mother handed them to her. She looked at the one on top, where her name had been scribed in blue ink. She didn’t understand…
“They are from Edward.” Marley allowed her to digest the information before she carried on. “They were sent to Porter over a period of time. I kept them from you.”
Rain was shocked. Kept from her…letters…from Edward?
“I’m sorry, my darling. I was wrong to keep them.” She placed her hand over Rains, holding the letters. Read them, Rain,” her mother said. “Read them and let me know what you intend to do.”
Rain watched her leave. It was the
first time, she’d noticed her mother had a slight curve to her back. As if she had lived in the attic for so long that she had imagined the rafters to be low and had spent seventeen-years avoiding knocking her head.
Rain looked down at the bundle in her clutched hands and she opened the one on top.
Dearest Rain, Forgive my boldness. I pray your uncle won’t consider my manner insolent or disrespectful in any way.
Rain paused her reading as she considered the implications of receiving letters from Edward, when he believed she lived in Taunton with her mother. How could he have known that she had lived above him for most of his life?
Rain, my darling, I am frightfully in love. You have bewitched me, as no other has been bewitched and I must beseech you to return my affection when you have considered the matter.
Rain gasped. A noise that escaped her lips without meaning to and without due force.
What a shame that the ceremonies had to be partaken. If I had been left to my own devices, I would never have let you go. As it was, when I tried to find you, your uncle said you had retired and that he hardly thought it was unsuitable for me to go knocking on your door so late.
She imagined him knocking on Porter’s door, when all that time she had returned to the attic.
…I am undeserving…unworthy of your affection, yet here I am, unable to sleep after you had danced in my arms.
Of course, I was careless, unappreciative of propriety, when all I could imagine was loving you with all my body and soul. Your uncle surely considers me to be a thoughtless rake, not to have considered the scandal I would cause to you, my dearest, by turning up at your door.
