Darkwater by Dorothy Eden

Dora has moved your things? I might say that room was one of the larger guest rooms.’
    ‘But surely you wouldn’t want to put guests next to the nursery, Aunt Louisa.’
    ‘That wasn’t the point I was making,’ Aunt Louisa said crossly. Her nose had taken on the grape bloom tinge that it did when she was excited or upset. She was already crouched over the battered trunks, like a great over-blown dahlia in her dark red full-skirted dress. Aunt Louisa had a tendency towards flamboyance in her dressing. The next thing, she would be wearing the green earrings in their ornate gold setting, provided, of course, it could be proved that the stones were semi-precious, at least.
    ‘I merely meant,’ she went on, ‘that you might have had the courtesy to consult me about your new arrangements.’
    ‘But I thought it was taken for granted the children would be my responsibility.’
    Aunt Louisa recognised the familiar glint of rebellion in Fanny’s eyes. One never knew what the wretched girl was thinking. And the exasperating thing was that she looked prettier than ever when she was indulging in one of her difficult moods.
    ‘Naturally, Mr Davenport and I think it very suitable that you should take an interest in the children. And I agree that sleeping near them is an advantage. But you should have asked. I really think the trust Mr Davenport placed in you by sending you to London has gone to your head. You must try to quell those domineering tendencies in your nature. They’re not becoming to a young woman.’
    ‘What are you going to do with those things?’ Fanny asked, her voice no less aggressive.
    Aunt Louisa was about to make a sharp rejoinder, but her attention was diverted to the heaps of clothing, tossed about untidily after the children’s wild scramble through the trunks that morning. She frowned in distaste and perplexity.
    ‘Burn most of it, I should think. It’s probably full of germs.’
    ‘What if any of the things should be valuable?’
    ‘If you’re thinking of that barbaric jewellery Nolly was wearing, if any of it is of any value, which is most unlikely, considering the impecunious habits of my wretched brother-in-law, it will be put away safely in the bank until the children are of age. Does that satisfy you, miss? Why do you imagine I choose to do this tedious task rather than allow the servants to?’
    Fanny resolutely dismissed her vague and unfair suspicions.
    ‘I’m sorry, Aunt Louisa, I shouldn’t have spoken like that.’
    ‘Speaking hastily is another of your faults. How many times have I told you that? But we’ll say no more, except that even though your uncle and I are trusting you with further responsibilities, we will expect you to still have time for your usual duties. I’m sure I wouldn’t care to face either my mother or Amelia if you neglected them. Now what, I wonder, is this meant to be?’
    She was holding up a garment of Oriental silk made in no identifiable shape.
    ‘Isn’t it a cheongsam, Aunt Louisa? The dress that Chinese ladies wear.’
    ‘So tight,’ murmured Aunt Louisa. ‘And a split in the skirt. Surely that woman didn’t wear anything so indecent. But I suppose one could expect anything—Well, what are you standing there for, Fanny? I asked you to take the children in the garden. And remember that you’re a very fortunate young woman. Boredom, you know can be worse than unhappiness. That’s why we must get that idle daughter of mine married as soon as possible.’
    Out in the garden Fanny had no envy of Amelia’s idleness. It was a cool windy afternoon, with racing cloud shadows and flashes of brilliance from the distant lake when the sun shone out. The peacock was spreading his tail on the lawn against the copper beech, as if he had deliberately planned the rich gleaming backdrop. His mate was picking in the grass near him, ignoring his splendour. But he had an enraptured audience in Nolly and Marcus and the little amah.
    Old William, the head