It was a pity Wini was missing out, and I thought I might steal some Christmas cake and take it to her a little later on. Wini would have been the life of the party, swinging the men around when it came time to dance.
‘Oh, my!’
I followed Nella’s gaze.
Dr Basildon and his wife entered the room and stood beside the fire. The doctor was as handsome as ever in a formal dinner suit, his hair slicked into place and his moustache twirled into crispness. His wife wore a crimson velvet gown with a sash of gold across one shoulder. The neckline was low, her waist painfully small, and her hair curled into loose, cloud-like waves on top of her head. Her throat and ears glittered with diamonds.
Dr Basildon nodded, and the orchestra began. Music broke across the room, startling some of the patients, who hadn’t realised what was going to happen.
Mrs Leverton and I escaped to the library next door, where the dining table had been moved, and found ourselves some food. We took small plates of cold sandwiches, tongue, and fowl, but neither of us seemed able to stomach much of it, despite its fineness. I was too eager to return to the ballroom, and we soon put down our plates and made our way back to the music.
My stomach felt like the ocean, roiling with excitement as the room murmured with well-dressed ladies and gentlemen, their feet tapping and threatening to break into dance. It was impossible to tell who was a patient and who was not.
Dr Basildon took his wife’s hand and led her to the centre of the room. Everyone stepped to the side as he bowed to her and brought her into hold. The orchestra started a new tune, and the Basildons flew across the floor, their steps timed perfectly in a fast polka.
Soon, some of the men were asking the women to dance. I turned my head away from the crowd, concentrating on my drink.
‘Excuse me,’ Mr Merryton addressed Mrs Leverton. ‘Would you care to dance?’
The old man offered her his hand, and she took it with ease. They moved so elegantly across the floor, their fine breeding evident in the way they held their heads high and their arms up. My palms stung from all my clapping, and as the music ended, Mr Merryton returned Mrs Leverton to her seat with a salute. Her cheeks were flushed, her dark eyes shone, and her smile was as radiant as I have ever seen.
‘Well done!’ I gushed.
‘Excuse me,’ a voice said. I thought it was Mr Merryton back for a second round, but I found his young attendant looking at me instead. He is a handsome man, a few years older than me, with light chestnut hair and a firm and chiselled face; he knows it too. ‘Could I have this dance?’
I stared at his hand for a moment until Mrs Leverton spoke for me. ‘She would be delighted.’
I hadn’t held any man’s hand but Bertie’s before, and even through my gloves I was aware how different his felt; bigger and stronger. He led me with a firm grip so that I could not let go.
Thankfully, the orchestra was now playing a waltz; the waltz is the only dance I know. He bowed to me, and I curtseyed to him before he gripped my waist and pulled me close. He smirked at my surprise.
‘I’m Daniel,’ he said as we began to spin.
‘Katy.’
‘That is a very pretty dress, Katy.’
We danced round and round. I was too busy concentrating on my steps to make conversation, praying that I would not put my feet in the wrong place and trip, but Daniel manoeuvred me effortlessly, much to my annoyance. I found myself looking at his smug face and actually wishing that we might go careering to the floor, just so he might stop grinning.
‘I am the envy of every man.’
‘What do you mean?’
He gripped me tighter until my stomach was only an inch from his.
‘Have you seen the stars tonight?’
I didn’t catch the change of direction.
‘The sky is clear, and the stars are very bright. Perhaps I might show you them, later?’
I did not like what he was implying and would not speak to him for the rest of the dance. He walked me to my seat and saluted, and as I turned my head away, he dared to wink at me.
Mrs Leverton giggled. I feared she had drunk too much wine, and so I took her cup away, saying she might prefer a cool glass of water instead. She didn’t argue but rather looked at me as if I were her mother and rolled her eyes.
‘Good evening, ladies.’ Dr Basildon sauntered over to our small gathering, bending from the waist to give us all a bow. ‘Are you enjoying yourselves?’
We all muttered how we were having such a wonderful time, except for Mrs Milton, who stared into space, like she had been doing all evening. Alice nodded her head so viciously that I thought it might fall off her neck.
‘Mrs Leverton, would you like to dance?’
She agreed demurely, and as she gently placed her hand on top of his and let him guide her to the floor, I saw the look of glee in his eye; perhaps he thought her sanity was finally beginning to show. She was no longer the dull old woman she had been when I had first arrived, who either cried or chided and smiled only at her pet. Dr Basildon swept her into a slow waltz, and they smiled and talked as they danced, looking rather like mother and son.
Alice drew my attention, for she was beginning to wherrit, her lips starting to wobble as if she might cry or burst out in a fury. Miss Wade was taking no notice of her and wouldn’t take her eyes off Dr Basildon’s butler, who she had managed to get the ear of.
‘Alice, should you like something to eat?’
Alice pulled her bottom lip and shook her head.
‘There are biscuits, and a great big fruit cake.’
Her sloppy eyes looked up at me, and she grinned wickedly.
‘Come on!’
I let her hold my hand as we went into the library. Mrs Basildon was at the end of the food table, right next to the fruit cake, with her lady’s maid. They were talking in hushed tones, gossiping, I suspected. I tried to interest Alice in a slice of tongue, but her heart was set on sugar. She yanked me over to the cake and began to bang my arm in excitement, right where some of my worst bruises were.
‘Sorry, Mrs Basildon, may I just cut some cake for Alice?’
Mrs Basildon’s back had been towards us, and now she turned to me as if I had asked her to jump from the roof, but she stepped out of the way all the same.
‘Thank you.’ I gestured for the kitchen maid to get me a knife – she had them all on her person with strict instructions that no patient be allowed to take one – and began to cut Alice a slice.
I was determined not to look at Mrs Basildon, but then I heard Alice, her voice too far away, and found her beside Mrs Basildon, ogling the woman’s diamonds. Mrs Basildon was doing her best to ignore her. She held her head away from the girl, but Alice’s hand began to slither closer.
I was too late to stop it. Alice grabbed Mrs Basildon’s necklace and pulled hard, and Mrs Basildon slapped her, shrieking to get her away.
I ran for Alice and prised her hands off the jewellery. ‘Now Alice, those aren’t yours, are they?’
Her eyes remained focused on the diamonds, struggling against me. She was getting in a bother, I could tell, and her mouth was hanging wide, saliva dribbling down her chin.
‘Disgusting imbecile,’ Mrs Basildon said.
I let go of Alice in shock. Alice started to cry.
‘Get her away from me,’ Mrs Basildon said.
I could have hit her.
‘Come along, Alice.’ I took the girl by the waist and guided her to the door, and was quite surprised when she put up no resistance. I grabbed a slice of cake as we left.
Once inside the ballroom, I led her to a quiet corner and made her sit. Her tears were petering out into little sniffs. I wiped my handkerchief over her face and hoped the volume of my dress would conceal her from prying eyes.
‘Let’s not cry at Christmas, Alice. It is the happiest time of the year.’
Snot ran into her mouth and I wiped that away as well.
‘You are prettier than the angel on the tr
ee.’
‘Really?’
I nodded, and she beamed at me. I smoothed back some stray strands of hair from her sticky forehead. ‘Now, you’d better eat your cake before I gobble it all.’
She snatched her plate from my hands and shovelled the cake through her lips, dropping plump raisins down her dress as she did so. I took the seat next to her, glad of a little peace and quiet away from the main group, as the number came to an end and Dr Basildon brought Mrs Leverton to her seat. I was about to return to her, taking Alice with me, when Dr Basildon whispered to Miss Wade; I could tell by the colour in her cheeks that he had been an unwelcome and uncompromising interruption. He pointed her towards Alice.
‘Miss Owen, I wondered if you would like to dance with me?’
I hesitated. ‘Mrs Leverton is—’
‘Miss Wade will keep her eye on Mrs Leverton, won’t you, Miss Wade? And, of course, her own charge as well.’
Miss Wade nodded, keeping her gaze on the floor, her cheeks scarlet.
I couldn’t refuse my employer.
His hand was gentler than Daniel’s but just as big. I felt all eyes on us as we arrived on the floor, so I kept my gaze trained on his collar.
The music began. It was an unfortunately quick waltz. Dr Basildon tensed just before he took the first step, charging up for the dance, and in that short second, I forgot all the moves. I was certain I would fall, but Dr Basildon whisked me around, keeping me close, leading me like an expert. Finally, I found the breeze from our quick pace a welcome relief, cooling the heat on my neck, making tendrils of my hair flow freely behind me. I was actually enjoying myself! The people at the sides of the room whirled past us in a blur and, unable to see their stares, I felt a giggle rising from my gut. I couldn’t stop it – it trickled out of me, and I thought Dr Basildon might tell me off, but when I glanced at him I found he was smiling too.
‘Mrs Leverton is much improved,’ he said over the music.
‘Yes,’ I said breathlessly.
‘I think it is you we must thank for it. What is your secret, Katy?’
My smile faltered only for a second. ‘I just listen to her.’
‘And she tells you what?’
‘Anything and everything.’
When I looked at him again, he had become serious.
‘You know, there was never any trace of an Edward Blake.’
‘I didn’t mean…’
‘None of the staff had ever known an Irish gardener, no relatives were ever traced. They searched the whole of the river for the boat and found nothing.’
I swallowed. The spinning was suddenly making me feel sick.
‘Do not be taken in, Katy.’
Finally, the music stopped. He bowed to me, and when he came up, his smile had returned. He walked me back to Mrs Leverton. ‘She is a fine dancer, is she not, Mrs Leverton?’
‘As graceful as a swan.’
They looked at me like appraising parents.
Heels clipped closer to us. Mrs Basildon joined her husband’s side. She had a glass of punch in her hand, and the red liquid was sloshing from the movement, about to spill onto her white gloves.
‘Mrs Basildon, that dress is sublime,’ Mrs Leverton said. Mrs Basildon pushed her lips into a smile.
‘The diamonds were Ernest’s grandmother’s.’
‘I thought I recognised them. They suit you perfectly.’
‘Shall we dance, my dear?’ Dr Basildon shifted on his feet.
‘Where did you get your dress, Katy?’
‘I… It was my mother’s.’
Mrs Basildon nodded as her gaze slid down my body. ‘She is a charwoman, is she not?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Did she work in that dress?’
My breath caught. My cheeks stinging, my gaze fell, and I saw all the faults in the dress. The bodice was not as tight as it should have been – it gaped to show my mother had been thicker in the waist than me. The skirt material had some bobbles where it lay across my thighs, and patches of it were discoloured.
‘Harriet.’ It was a warning, but Mrs Basildon took no notice of her husband.
‘There must be some cupboards for you to clean. A front step to polish.’ She laughed, a shrill, piercing sound. ‘And anyway, your face is putting people off their food. Did you have no powder?’
Dr Basildon gripped her arm and whispered something in her ear which made her stand up straighter. She glared at me, then stormed away.
‘I must apologise for my wife. Might I—?’
‘I am tired, Doctor.’ Mrs Leverton stood and smiled as if nothing had happened. ‘Thank you for this delightful party, but I should like to go to bed now.’
‘Of course.’ Dr Basildon bowed at us again.
Mrs Leverton held out her arm so that she could put it through mine for support, and we left the room.
It was eerily quiet as we entered the female wing and the empty day room, the thick walls keeping the noise from the orchestra trapped in the main house. Mrs Leverton’s voice echoed as she spoke.
‘She is a vile woman, as jealous as a snake.’
I bit my tongue as we made our way upstairs and found Annie curled up in her blankets. The dog stiffly got to her feet and shuffled over to us, her tail wagging.
‘You shall have to bite her, Annie. We shall train you to be our little fighting dog.’
‘Would you like a bed pan, Mrs Leverton?’
‘I’m not going to bed, Katy! I am not tired at all.’
‘But you said…’
She cocked her head to the side and looked at me as if I were stupid. Finally, I realised she had done it for me, to save me. I had been keeping myself together until then, but Mrs Leverton’s kindness made my tears fall. She came to me and hugged me, rocking me from side to side.
‘Hush now. You must not let her upset you.’
‘She was right, the dress is old, my face is—’
‘Exquisite. And that is why she was so cruel. Katy’ – she shook her head, as if bemused – ‘no man has been able to keep his eyes off you tonight. Could you not see that? I told you, you are like me when I was your age.’
‘Did you go to many dances?’
‘All of them.’ She settled herself onto the bed and patted it so that I would sit beside her. I picked Annie up so us three girls could be cosy together.
‘What were they like?’
‘Grander than this. Hundreds of people. You can get away with so much more in a crowded room.’ She winked. ‘There was one boy… It was my first season, and I was fresh-faced and new. He had the fluff of a moustache and the greenest eyes I had ever seen, truly the colour of an apple. He was my first love.’
‘What happened?’
‘We danced all night. We kept meeting each other at balls all season long. He took me out to Regent’s Park one day, and we kissed under the shade of a tree.’
‘Then what?’
‘Then the season was over, and I never met him again.’ She saw my face fall and laughed at me. ‘There are plenty of boys out there, Katy. Someone else always comes along.’
‘Mrs Leverton—’
‘Won’t you call me Persey? My sister used to call me Persey. I should like it if you did now.’
I wasn’t supposed to, but in the quiet of the night I thought it could not hurt, especially when I was going to tell her about Bertie.
‘Persey, I have… I have a boy that I have set my heart on.’
‘It is not Daniel, is it?’
‘What? Goodness, no!’
‘Good. He is devilishly handsome, but I do not trust him.’
‘No, a boy from home.’
She raised her eyebrows, encouraging.
‘His name is Bertie. He is the butcher’s son. We are… going to get married.’
‘When?’ she said urgently, as if I might be leaving her at any minute.
‘Not for a while. We have to save money first. His father wouldn’t allow it, you see. He wants Bertie to make a b
etter match. He is an ambitious man.’
‘So that is why you are here.’ There was a sadness in her voice.
‘That is why I came, yes, although now I think I should like to stay, even when we are married.’
‘You know you cannot.’
‘But Mrs Thorpe is married to Mr Thorpe. Why might it not be the same for me and Bertie?’
‘It is different for matrons. But perhaps you are right. Dr Basildon is a reasonable man.’
‘I have told no one but you about this, not even Marion.’
Mrs Leverton – Persey – smiled again. ‘And I think we should keep it that way.’ She yawned. ‘I should get some rest now.’
I undressed her and unfastened her hair. I let mine out at the same time and locked all of the pins in the dressing table. She crept into bed, returning to the old lady she had been before the party.
‘Are you not praying?’
‘I think God will forgive me this once. Good night, Katy.’
I pulled the covers up to her chin and patted Annie on the head. ‘Good night, Persey.’
I found Wini slumped over the night desk, her chin resting in her hands, her eyes half shut. My footsteps roused her.
‘How is the party?’
‘Find out for yourself. I’ll stay here for an hour.’
She hesitated, but she was wide awake now. ‘I shouldn’t. Mrs Thorpe says it’s my duty tonight.’
‘Mrs Thorpe is too busy with Mr Thorpe to notice. Go on, the cake is delicious.’
She pushed out her chair, making it screech on the floorboards. ‘Doctor gave Mrs Beckwith an opiate, so she’ll be quiet. Thank you, Katy.’ She ran to the stairs, her heavy steps clomping all the way down.
I sat behind the desk, staring into the empty corridor. I tried not to think about Mrs Basildon and what she’d said, but it kept turning over in my mind. She was a mean woman, but jealous? I couldn’t believe Mrs Leverton’s theory of someone like Mrs Basildon being envious of someone like me. The woman lives in a mansion, is married to a doctor, and has the finest gowns I’ve ever seen.
I hoped she choked on her punch.
Night duty is always such a bore. The hands on the clock slow down so that a minute becomes two. The wooden chair is hard and uncomfortable, so I stretched my legs and looked in on Mrs Beckwith. I opened the latch on her door to see she was fast asleep, lying on her back, her mouth open and quivering with each breath. I shut the latch again and tiptoed to Mrs Leverton’s room. She too was asleep, curled onto her side like a child, Annie snuggled against her stomach.
Woman on Ward 13: A haunting gothic novel of obsession and insanity (Iris Lowe Mysteries) Page 12
