by Hannah Parry
“Oh yes, I do remember. The governess, from Cawnpore, used to work for Millie March?”
“That’s right.” Isabella pointed over to where Mrs Jolyon was sitting with some of the other servants who had accompanied their families. “She’s the princess’s governess now,” said Isabella enjoying the look on Lady Molesey and Eloise’s face. “It’s a pity we didn’t spend more time with her on board. I’m sure Eloise and the princess are the same age, perhaps they would have become friends,” she added.
Let them stew over that.
Above the noise of the jolly crowd Isabella heard a church bell chiming the hour. It must be eight o’clock. Another smartly dressed youth presented himself to Alix, bowing at the waist.
“Your majesty, may I have the pleasure?”
Eloise’s mouth fell open. “Isn’t that Prince Albert of Prussia?”
Lady Molesey’s fanning intensified. “I rather think it was.”
Isabella curtsied. “If you will excuse me,” she made to move away towards the stairs. If luck were on her side she would never have to see them again. As she passed Mrs Jolyon’s table, Mrs Jolyon got up.
“Well done! Did the princess put them in their place?”
Isabella smiled.
“Yes, you should have seen it. It was quite satisfying.”
Mrs Jolyon nodded and rummaged in her evening bag. “A part of me wishes I had. By the way, someone’s just given me this.”
Mrs Jolyon handed her a crumpled piece of paper. On it was her name in a badly fashioned hand. Zach must have paid someone to write it for him. “Meet you outside the side gates. Good luck.”
“Is that from whom I think it is?” said Mrs Jolyon smiling.
Isabella nodded. “I’m meeting my friends tonight…” Then unable to keep it to herself any longer, she added “Zachariah has bought me a boat ticket home.”
Mrs Jolyon eyes widened. “Not on the new Mauritania Clipper? The one which leaves tonight?”
Isabella laughed. “Yes, that’s the one. I can’t believe it.”
Mrs Jolyon looked puzzled. “But how could you afford it? The tickets were listed in the paper as being twelve pounds.”
Isabella gazed at Mrs Jolyon. Could she tell her the truth? Excited as she was, something stopped her. The stakes were too high. Instead Isabella patted her waistline which bulged slightly.
“It’s what I’ve been saving for… Zachariah managed to sell a couple of trinkets I… er… came across.”
Mrs Jolyon held her hand up, but she was smiling. “Don’t tell me anything I don’t want to know.” Then she looked over toward Alex. “You haven’t told her yet?”
Isabella shook her head.
“She’ll miss you terribly.”
Isabella nodded.
“I know. You’ll be here to look after her though, won’t you? You’ll stay?”
A strange vacant look came over Mrs Jolyon’s face, as if she had stepped out of her body for a moment. “Mrs Jolyon?” Isabella put her hand on Mrs Jolyon’s arm.
“Oh Isabella,” Mrs Jolyon’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking of Christopher and how much I miss him.” She rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I must get myself under control. It’s probably because I’m going to miss you too. I’ve always hated goodbyes.”
Isabella hugged her.
“Mrs Jolyon, I’ll miss you too – so much! I wish you could come with me.”
“I wish I was going with you. It will be spring when you get home. The hibiscus will be out and all the partridge chicks running about. How wonderful.”
“Is there anything I can take for you Mrs Jolyon? Something for Christopher I can post when I am there?” Isabella felt a little breathless at the possibility of her dream coming true in such a short time.
Mrs Jolyon’s face lit up. “Oh Isabella, that would be wonderful. Do you have space for a letter? He does so love to get my letters.”
“Of course. Why don’t you get it now, then I’ll go and pack.”
Mrs Jolyon rushed off and Isabella took her seat with the other ladies’ maids and governesses who were now discussing the colour of the Duchess’s dress. Over the shifting shoulders’ of dancing couples, she could see the clock in the hall; it was eight forty. She had just enough time to collect her bag, the painting, make her good-byes and slip out to meet Zach. She was excited to see him and Midge; Midge especially. It seemed for every happiness, there was always a sadness. She would get to see Midge, but in doing so, she’d have to say good-bye to Alix.
“Do you know Mrs Jolyon well?” asked a pale-faced maid, sitting on her right. They had obviously tired of the discussion of clothes, and were now looking for something else to talk about, but Isabella didn’t want to talk to them. Instead she wanted to take in all beauty of her surroundings so she could tell the children all about it, without leaving anything out.
“Here we are.”
Mrs Jolyon, out of breath, surreptitiously gave her a heavy wrapped letter, sealed with wax. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’ve put in a shilling note. If I didn’t seal it, it would surely go missing.”
She was leaning down close to Isabella’s ear and Isabella laughed inwardly as she could see the ladies who sat around her, straining to catch every word. She tucked the letter into her bodice and stood up. She looked over towards Alix.
“Will you be here for a while?” she asked. It was going to take some time before she felt comfortable about leaving Alix, despite at least twenty guards in the room.
Mrs Jolyon fortunately seemed to understand.
“You go on. I’ll be here until you get back. You will say goodbye when you’re ready won’t you?”
“Of course I will. I’d never hear the end of it from you-know-who.” Then, checking Alix was still happily twirling around the room, she slipped through the throng watching the dancing, out into the hall.
Her kid slippers made no sound as she made her way down the corridor to the Blue Salon. The faint smell of champagne remained in the room, glasses littering the tabletops. The fire still burned however, and the Caravaggio glowed gold in its light as Isabella took it down and tucked it in her skirts. Then she left the room.
The music, now a haunting waltz crept along behind her, as she climbed the staircase to Alix’s apartments, but when she closed her bedroom door the music was suddenly cut off, as if the orchestra had stopped mid-note. Swiftly she went to the wall and took down the painting with which to replace the Caravaggio.
Her father’s bag was still packed from the day before, and she slid Mrs Jolyon’s letter in next to Abhaya’s pouch. She took off her dress and hung it carefully in the wardrobe. Then she put on her street clothes, now sweet-smelling and neatly darned.
That was better; much more like herself.
Finally she wrapped the Caravaggio in Abhaya’s sari and put it on top of the pouch, so nothing would crush it. She looked around the room for the last time. The fire crackled and hissed, and a pot of hot chocolate stood wrapped in a tea towel for her to have later. She’d miss that hot chocolate, but it was time now to re-enter the real world.
She took the locket and went to Alix’s room and left it on her pillow, took one last look at the Princess’s room, in which they’d had so much fun, and then closed the door and went downstairs.
Chapter 12:
Treason
The little landscape painting from her room looked perfect hanging in place of the Caravaggio. It would, at least, buy her a little time. All she had to do now, was leave the palace without being seen. As she reached for the door handle, to her horror, it started to turn. Someone was coming into the room. Without thinking Isabella dived behind the sofa next to the window, but she was too late.
“I told you’d she’d try and sneak off, just like a thief in the night…” said Alix to Mrs Jolyon, plainly pleased with herself. Isabella felt sick to her stomach. How could Alix possibly know?
“Ssh, what are you doing here? I wasn’t sneaking off, I was
just about to come and find you,” hissed Isabella, the painting burning a hole in her knapsack.
“I only wanted to come and say goodbye.” Said Alix going a bit pink. “Just this once I wanted to act like a normal person, and come and wave you off. I know you’re going to meet your friends. Let me meet them too.” Her eyes were pleading in her flushed face.
Seeing Alix knew nothing of the picture, Isabella relaxed a little.
“Oh come on then, but you’re going to get in trouble.”
Alix giggled. “I won’t be here anymore to face the music. Come on, let’s go this way. They’ll be coming out for fireworks in a moment. We need to get to the side gate before they open the terrace doors.”
She hurried them down the corridor and out through a little-used door near the kitchens. The sounds of slamming, and chefs shouting came clearly through the misted up open windows, and they stood for a moment in the icy night, their breath billowing out in front of them.
“Which gate?”
“The one nearest to Kensington.”
Alix set off again toward a bank of high yews, which lay at the bottom of a grassy slope. She was going at a fast pace, obviously enjoying the adventure.
“It’s so wonderful not to have any guards around. Ernest has tripled the watch I think. Every time I turned around on that dance floor I nearly fell over one of them.”
Isabella’s laugh was clear and bell-like.
Just ahead of them, next to a wrought- iron gate shining dully in the moonlight, a figure stepped out onto the stone path. Mrs Jolyon jumped, but Isabella started to run. It was Midge.
He hurled his arms around her waist and she hugged him back with all her might.
“Alright?” he mumbled into her coat.
“Yes Midge. I am alright,” she replied. He lifted his head up and looked around and, seeing the others, he untangled himself from Isabella.
Zach and Ruby detached themselves from the shadows of the yews.
“There you are! We’ve been ’ere ages,” said Zach.
Isabella walked up to him and prodded him with her finger.
“No you have not. You just got here, those are fresh footprints. And anyway, we’re early.”
“Whose we?” smiled Zach.
Isabella turned around proudly to Alix and Mrs Jolyon.
“Alix these are my friends. May I present Midge and Ruby Thompson and Zachariah Graves.”
Ruby had already dropped a deep and graceful curtsey, and Midge bowed clumsily. Zach was the only one not to be fazed by meeting the heir to the throne.
“How do, your majesty.”
Alix smiled. “I do very well, thank you.”
Isabella pulled Mrs Jolyon forward. “This is Mrs Jolyon. She and I came over on the boat together. I don’t know what I would have done without her….”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
Even in the moonlight, Isabella could see Alix was blushing. “Why, what’s been happening?” asked Zach.
I don’t think I’ve time to tell you now, I’ll tell you on the way to the boat.”
Mrs Jolyon nodded.
“I think that would be better. I worry the princess might be missed, then we will all be in trouble,” she laughed.
Zach nodded.
“The tide turns at eleven, so the boat leaves at three. It will take us an hour to get over to the docks, so we should leave now.”
Isabella gulped at the approach of the moment she’d been dreading, but Alix sensed her distress.
“Pull yourself together Rockwell. You’re a soldier’s daughter.” Alix shook her by the shoulders. “I’ll see you again one day. This isn’t good-bye forever. Here…” she reached down and took off the heavy gold ring she wore on her little finger. “I promise you on this ring that we will meet again. Take it and wear it, and think of me.”
Isabella held the gold ring up, so she could see what was on it.
“I knew it was a lion and a unicorn, but what are these initials?”
Ruby leant forward to look over Isabella’s shoulder and then spoke in her soft voice.
“I know what they are,” she said. “They’re the initials of her majesty, aren’t they?” She looked at Alix with raised eyebrows.
Alix nodded. “Well done Ruby, you can read!”
Ruby blushed. “Well, a little.”
“Do you know what they stand for?” asked Isabella. “I know the A and the H, but what’s the V in the middle for?”
“It’s V for Victoria, isn’t it your majesty?”
“That’s right. It’s Mama’s name.”
Isabella held the ring so it shone in the moonlight. “It’s pretty.”
Alix sniffed.
“Take the ring and keep it safe. Try not to sell it – well, not unless you have to.”
Isabella held Alix close to her, her heart beating and her throat closing with tears.
“Good-bye,” she muttered. “Please take care.”
Alix smiled. “I will… and Isabella,” Isabella had turned away to wipe her eyes on her sleeve. “Thank you.”
Isabella gave Mrs Jolyon a swift hug, and then she and the others tiptoed out of the gate. When she turned to look behind her, she could see Alix, her hand still raised standing on a grass knoll, then Zach led her through a gap in the trees and Isabella lost sight of her.
None of them spoke until they reached Kensington Gore. To Isabella it was like waking from a dream, being out in the lamplight and chilly bustle of a main road.
“I think it’s best we cut across the park, that’s probably the quickest route,” said Zach.
“Let’s take a hansom,” said Isabella recklessly. “We’re rich now.”
Zachariah did a double take.
“Are we?”
Isabella nodded, smiling and patted her bag.
A smile transformed Zachariah’s face and he lifted her high up off the ground and swung her around and around.
Laughing, she reached under her dress and took out a note.
“Blimey, look at her, Moneybags finally started spending,” teased Midge. Zach waved over a cab. The driver was careful to take their money first before letting them get in.
Zach sat back and said in an excited voice.
“Let’s see it then.”
Isabella smiled and reached into her bag.
“You can’t see it, it’s all wrapped up.”
“Oh go on, just a quick peek.”
“Alright then,” she said, gently undoing the tightly wrapped sari.
The gold and reds of the tiny picture lit their faces in the leathern darkness of the cab. They all let out a sigh of pleasure at the sight of it.
“It is beautiful,” said Zach to himself, as if he’d wanted to make sure it had been worth all the effort.
Isabella nodded. “Yes, it is.”
“The fence said it would be. I’m glad he knew what he was talking about.”
Isabella looked at Zach.
“Do you know who he wants it for yet?”
Zach shook his head. “Nah. That’s top secret. Probably best that way.” The cab bounced along.
“Well, whoever they are, they’re lucky,” cooed Ruby. “That’s the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen.”
The cab stopped suddenly and Isabella wrapped the painting back up and tucked it into her bag.
“What’s happening?”
As Zach stood to open the window, their door was flung open. A burly peeler stood, red faced and out of breath, in front of them.
“Alf! They’re here.” Isabella’s stomach dropped through the floor.
“Run,” commanded Zach.
Isabella looked at him for moment, unable to comprehend what was happening.
“I said… RUN!’ shouted Zach.
Isabella was first to leap from the cab, past the outstretched hands of the Peeler and past the other men running towards the cab, their heavy boots clattering on the slippery cobbles. A crowd had already gathered, but Isabella
managed to run through a gap, and turned in time to see Ruby and Zach run in different directions, causing confusion.
But it was not to be so for Midge.
“Oi Gerrof, you big bully…” Isabella could see him hanging like a cat caught by the scruff of its neck from the Peeler’s knotted arms. She paused for a fraction of a second and then, with tears blinding her, she sped on through the crowd running, running, running to where? She had no idea.
It wasn’t until she was in the deep dark of Hyde Park, surrounded by trees, with the sounds of Kensington Gore far behind her that she finally slowed to a panting, gasping walk. She walked underneath a giant laurel, icy and dripping and sat at its base, rocking and crying so hard she didn’t hear the skidding footsteps on the path nearby. There was the thud of leather boots.
“What happened there, then?” Zachariah’s voice was harsh with worry. “You blew it, Miss India. You must have told someone…the Peelers…they was tipped off.”
Isabella looked at him uncomprehendingly. Then she got to her feet and slapped him, once, hard.
“How dare you. I didn’t tell anyone. Don’t you accuse me….”
Zachariah’s hand was already raised in retaliation, but Ruby was quicker than both of them.
“Stop it, stop it! What are you doing?” She took a mighty breath. “We’ve got to think about Midge.”
Zachariah had his head in his hands.
“Oh my God. He’s going to hang.”
Now it was Ruby’s turn to sound angry.
“That’s enough. No he’s not. We’ll get him out….”
Isabella shoulders slumped as she walked back towards the path leading out of the park. In the far off distance she could hear whistles. No doubt they were for her.
“Where are you going?” Zachariah’s voice was a growl.
“I’m going to turn myself in.”
Zachariah laughed, a horrible sound which made Isabella think of all her darkest, coldest moments rolled into one.
“What, so’s they’ll let Midge go? Grow up! They won’t – they’ll just hang you both. Your life has no price. You can’t barter with it and you’re a fool to think you ever could.” Then, just as quickly as he’d come, Zacahariah turned on his heel and walked away.
