Hetty Feather

by Wilson, Jacqueline

  'Courage, Hetty,' said Miss Smith.

  The gatekeeper boggled as we climbed out of the cab. 'Oh my Lord, it's the missing child!' he exclaimed.

  'Indeed it is,' said Miss Smith. 'Come along, Hetty dear. Let us seek out Matron Bottomly and tell her your sad tale. Now, Hetty, quick, give me a very brief and truthful resumé of the last two days.'

  I told her about going to see the wrong circus in Hyde Park, and my omnibus journey to Hampstead Heath, and my encounter with Madame Adeline, and my night under the bush, and my begging in the street, and my ride on the elephant in the Zoological Gardens, and my alarming encounter with the weird gentleman, and my rescue by dear Sissy and subsequent night in her room in the condemned house. I kept it utterly concise, with no picturing whatsoever, but we had to take three turns of the grounds before my tale was fully told.

  'My goodness, Hetty, you've certainly had your fair share of adventures. My poor fictional heroines lead very dull lives by comparison!' said Miss Smith.

  'Matron Bottomly will be so angry. She will lock me up in the punishment attic for a week,' I said fearfully.

  'Wait and see, child,' said Miss Smith. 'Come now, let us confront her.'

  We went in through the girls' entrance. The infant foundlings were all filing off to the privies after their darning session. They stopped and stared at me, clutching each other.

  'Oh, wonders!' Nurse Winnie cried, dashing up to us. 'It's Hetty Feather back from the dead! Oh, Hetty, God be praised, you're safe!' She seized hold of me and whirled me round, then gave me a kiss on both cheeks.

  'There, Hetty! Now tell me, is she one of the cruel nurses who beat you?' said Miss Smith as we proceeded along the corridor towards Matron Bottomly's room.

  'Nurse Winnie is a darling,' I admitted. 'But wait till you meet Matron. She will not be thankful I am back from the dead. She will very likely wish me dead. And buried. And burning to a crisp in H-e-l-l.'

  Miss Smith knocked on Matron Bottomly's door and pulled me inside. Matron Bottomly's head jerked up at the sight of me. Her mouth opened comically. She took in my ragged, unkempt state, my missing cap and tippet and apron, my filthy bare feet. She took a deep breath.

  'Hetty Feather!' she said. 'I knew you would be the child to bring disgrace to the Foundling Hospital! If you only knew the trouble you've caused! We have never had a child run away before.'

  'Oh no, you are very much mistaken!' said Miss Smith quickly. 'Do let me introduce myself, Matron. I am Sarah Smith, newly elected to your board of governors – and very happily I rescued Hetty myself. She did not run away, I assure you. She was captured by a band of brigands at the funfair at Hyde Park. They chloroformed the poor child and kept her trussed up in an attic, ready to be shipped overseas.'

  Miss Smith leaned forward and hissed dramatically, 'The white slave trade! But I happened to be in the area reporting on slum dwellings and I heard her desperate screams. I rescued her and she begged me to take her back to the hospital. I hope no long-term harm has been done to her – but I fear her confinement will prey on her mind. She must never be confined in a locked room again, her nerves would never stand it.'

  It was my turn to marvel at Miss Smith's picturing. I practically applauded when she insisted I must not be locked up! I'm not sure how much Matron Bottomly truly believed – but Miss Smith was a governor and she could not accuse her of lying.

  'I feel Hetty Feather is a child of enormous creative potential. I have given her a notebook in which to write. I shall come and visit her regularly and examine her work,' said Miss Smith. 'I am sure I can rely on you, Matron Bottomly, to make sure Hetty is not parted from her notebook. I know you have her welfare at heart.'

  Oh, glorious and devious Miss Smith! Matron Bottomly still hates the very sight of me, but she allows me to write write write in this notebook! She has not locked me in the punishment attic – though I'm sure she was sorely tempted when Madame Adeline paid a visit to the Foundling Hospital to make sure I'd returned safely!

  I have been writing my own story this past year. Miss Smith has been writing too. A Penny for a Posy has already been published. I have my own copy, dedicated thus: To Hetty and Sissy – and in memory of Lil. Miss Smith tracked them down and paid for a doctor to attend poor little Lil, but sadly he could not help her. However, Miss Smith's rescue organization has found Sissy decent lodgings away from her father, and she is now being trained as a milliner, making neat nosegays for bonnets, so her story ends happily too.

  This is my story and I promise it is not a work of fiction. I have tried hard not to exaggerate or embroider too much. Miss Smith says very complimentary things about my writing, but says I have a tendency to be too fanciful. But sometimes the truth is stranger and more wondrous than fiction. I have kept the very best part till last. I have found my mother!

  I wonder if you have guessed who she is?

  I had a very thorough bath the day I returned to the hospital and was given a brand-new uniform and new boots too. I walked into the dining room for supper and a general hubbub broke out, with girls clapping and crying, because everyone had been convinced I'd disappeared for ever. Even Sheila and Monica clasped me close! Little Eliza was beside herself, leaping up at me like a little monkey, her arms about my neck.

  However, it was Ida who reacted most dramatically. She took one look at me, turned white as a sheet, and fainted dead away. She had to be carried bodily out of the dining room by two nurses and taken to her room. Her shoe fell off as she was dragged away. I snatched it up and cradled the ugly black brogue as if it was Cinderella's glass slipper.

  'I must return Ida's shoe,' I mumbled to a nurse, and fled from the dining room, even though I had not had my supper.

  I followed the nurses and poor Ida through the kitchens and down a long corridor to the cramped servants' quarters. Ida's room was as small as the punishment attic and almost as bare. The nurses laid her down on her truckle bed. Ida murmured my name.

  'Yes, yes, Hetty Feather's here. She has scared us all but she has turned up like a bad penny,' said one nurse.

  'Fancy you taking on so, Ida! You've a kind heart,' said the other nurse. 'There now, you'd better rest. Come along, Hetty, leave Ida to recover.'

  'Mayn't I stay for five minutes, just to make sure she doesn't swoon again,' I begged. 'I was so very mean to Ida and I feel so bad about it now. Please let me tell her how sorry I am.'

  The nurses laughed at me, but let me stay.

  'Oh, dear Ida, please be all right,' I whispered.

  I smoothed the hair off her forehead and stroked her temple. Her eyes opened. They looked very raw and bloodshot.

  'Oh, Ida, your eyes look so sore,' I said, concerned. 'Have you been crying?'

  'Of course I've been crying!' Ida said. 'I've been fair demented these last two days. I've been out searching the streets both nights trying to find you. I thought I'd truly lost you and I couldn't bear it. I feared you'd run away because you thought I favoured Sheila, when I was simply making a fuss of her to spite you.'

  'And no wonder! I was so horrid to you. Please forgive me, dearest Ida. You mean the whole world to me,' I declared.

  Fresh tears welled in her poor eyes.

  'Oh, Ida, don't!' I said, and I hugged her hard, burying my head in her bony shoulder.

  Her hands reached up and she wound her fingers in my red hair. 'My little Hetty – my own child,' she murmured.

  I raised my head. 'What did you say?' I whispered.

  Ida wiped her tears with her fingers, keeping her face covered with her hands. 'Nothing, nothing,' she said.

  I took hold of her hands and gently pulled them away so I could see her properly. I looked deep into her eyes and saw the truth. 'You are my mother?' I whispered.

  'Hush, Hetty, hush! No one must ever know!'

  'But . . . but . . .' I saw the strands of our hair side by side on the pillow, Ida's light-brown locks and my fiery red ones.

  'Your father has red hair,' Ida whispered.

  I clas
ped her hands. 'Tell me!' I begged.

  'His name's Robert – but everyone always called him Bobbie. He was the brightest boy in our village and I loved him with all my heart, though he did not truly care for me. He left to go to sea and voyage round the world.'

  'And where is he now, my father?'

  'I truly do not know, Hetty. He never came back. He swore he'd write to me but he never did. I waited and waited for him to return – because I realized I was having his baby.'

  'Me!'

  'Yes, you, Hetty!' Her arms went round me, holding me tightly. 'I did not know what to do. I didn't tell a soul but soon I became so big that people started to notice. My parents could not stand the shame and turned me out.'

  'Oh, Ida!'

  'I was so lonely, so frightened. I didn't know what to do,' she said, clinging to me. 'I gave birth to you all alone, and you were so terrifyingly tiny, but, oh, so precious. I held you close in my arms all day long and felt I could never ever let you go. But I had no way of supporting us. I did not dare farm you out to some woman while I worked. You were so small and sickly, I knew you would not thrive unless you were cared for most particularly. So I decided it would be best if I took you to the Foundling Hospital.'

  'I wish you could have kept me, Ida.'

  'I wished it too. It was an agony to give you up. I missed you so badly. I nearly lost my mind with wretchedness. I ended up in the workhouse, changing my name so that no one should ever know. It was very hard there, but I did my best to bear it. Eventually the mistress helped me find a position as a kitchen maid. I worked in that post for a year, but when I knew you were due back from your foster home I applied for work at the hospital. It was my only way of being near you, Hetty. I could never earn enough to buy you back, and the governors would not deem me a fit mother anyway.'

  'You are the most fit mother in the world, and the only one I could ever want,' I said fervently.

  'It's been such a secret joy these past five years watching you grow, but a torment too, unable to give you a true mother's love. I resolved never to tell you. If anyone found out, I would be sent away in disgrace.'

  'Oh, Ida, I will keep our secret, I swear,' I promised. 'But could you tell me just one thing more. Did you give me a name when I was born?'

  'I called you a fancy pet name, Sapphire, because your eyes were so blue.'

  'Oh my Lord, I pictured that! I knew my real mother would have chosen a beautiful name for me! Listen, Ida, I hope to be a writer one day and have my stories published – and then I shall use Sapphire as my pen name. You're not laughing at me, are you?'

  'No, my darling, I'm crying because I'm so happy.'

  'We will leave the hospital together when I'm old enough, and my stories will earn lots of money, and I'll find us a fine house, and we will live there together, mother and daughter, just you wait and see.'

  'Happily ever after, like the fairy stories,' said Ida, still weeping.

  'Happily ever after,' I declared. 'I am absolutely certain!'