‘God knows how we’re going to pay for the other dresses. Oh, Cassie!’ This time she couldn’t keep back her tears.
‘
What’s happened?
’ said Cassie. ‘Aren’t Father’s publishers going to cough up after all?’
‘He was pretending all the time. Lord knows why I believed him. I knew his writing nonsense was a waste of time. If only he’d been man enough to admit it! But what does he do?
What does he do?
’ Mother repeated histrionically, gulping for breath. ‘Tell her!’ she gasped, pointing at me.
‘Father stole from the shipping office. I think he made out a cheque to himself and paid it into his own bank,’ I said.
‘Father did?’ said Cassie. ‘Our father
stole
?’ She suddenly burst out laughing. ‘Father!’ she repeated. ‘Who would ever have thought it!
Father!
’
‘It’s no laughing matter, you little fool,’ said Mother.
Cassie was shocked into seriousness. Mother had never spoken to her so harshly in all her life.
‘Your father’s been arrested. He didn’t even have the sense to make a good job of it. He’s got no defence whatsoever. He’s admitted everything. He’ll go to prison.’
‘But what will we do?’ said Cassie, tears brimming now. ‘What will become of us? How will I ever find a decent man if I have a jailbird for a father?’
Suddenly I’d had enough. Cassie could be responsible for Mother now. I ran up to my room and actually barricaded myself in, with my heavy washstand tight against the door, determined that they wouldn’t get at me. Cassie came and knocked a while later, telling me that supper was on the table, but I said I didn’t want any. Then Mother herself came knocking, telling me to stop this childish sulking and come down at once.
‘I’ve gone to bed, Mother,’ I lied. ‘I have a sick headache with the shock.’
They both left me alone. I lay fully clothed on top of my bedclothes and tried desperately to send thought messages to Father, telling him I loved him and wished I could be with him to comfort him. Then I cried until I really
did
give myself a headache.
I fell asleep at some point, and then woke in the middle of the night, my heart pounding, scarcely able to breathe. My clothes were all tight and twisted about me, but even when I’d torn them off and put on my nightgown, I still felt constricted.
Father, Father, Father!
I thought, through the rest of that terrible long night.
MOTHER DIDN’T GET up to make breakfast the next morning. She lay on her bed. Cassie stayed in her room and I stayed in mine, though I could tell from the rustle of bedclothes and creakings of the beds that we were all awake.
Cassie gave in first. She knocked on my door until I pushed the washstand aside. She came trailing into my room in her nightgown, yawning and rubbing her eyes.
‘Come on, you. It doesn’t look as if Mother’s going to stir. Oh Lordy, what a palaver.’ She sat down on my bed. I stayed curled in a tight ball. ‘Try not to worry, sis,’ she said softly, patting my shoulder, her long hair tickling my face.
I struggled up and we gave each other a quick fierce hug. Then Cassie padded off to get dressed. I put on my ugly school uniform – but when Cassie had trailed off to work, sadly clutching the heliotrope dress, I went back to my own room and undressed down to my drawers.
I was sure that Mother was still awake, although she’d refused to respond to our knocking and had ignored the cup of tea Cassie had brought her. I tiptoed into Cassie’s room. It smelled just like her – of rose soap and Parma violet powder and soft girl body. I wanted to curl up in her warm bed and lull myself to sleep, but instead I looked through the clothes hanging on a rail behind a flowery curtain. Cassie was an untidy girl by nature and she’d gone out without making her bed and left her dressing table smeared with powder, but her clothes were in immaculate order, each dress sponged at the armpits, every hem sewn neatly into place.
I
‘
What’s happened?
’ said Cassie. ‘Aren’t Father’s publishers going to cough up after all?’
‘He was pretending all the time. Lord knows why I believed him. I knew his writing nonsense was a waste of time. If only he’d been man enough to admit it! But what does he do?
What does he do?
’ Mother repeated histrionically, gulping for breath. ‘Tell her!’ she gasped, pointing at me.
‘Father stole from the shipping office. I think he made out a cheque to himself and paid it into his own bank,’ I said.
‘Father did?’ said Cassie. ‘Our father
stole
?’ She suddenly burst out laughing. ‘Father!’ she repeated. ‘Who would ever have thought it!
Father!
’
‘It’s no laughing matter, you little fool,’ said Mother.
Cassie was shocked into seriousness. Mother had never spoken to her so harshly in all her life.
‘Your father’s been arrested. He didn’t even have the sense to make a good job of it. He’s got no defence whatsoever. He’s admitted everything. He’ll go to prison.’
‘But what will we do?’ said Cassie, tears brimming now. ‘What will become of us? How will I ever find a decent man if I have a jailbird for a father?’
Suddenly I’d had enough. Cassie could be responsible for Mother now. I ran up to my room and actually barricaded myself in, with my heavy washstand tight against the door, determined that they wouldn’t get at me. Cassie came and knocked a while later, telling me that supper was on the table, but I said I didn’t want any. Then Mother herself came knocking, telling me to stop this childish sulking and come down at once.
‘I’ve gone to bed, Mother,’ I lied. ‘I have a sick headache with the shock.’
They both left me alone. I lay fully clothed on top of my bedclothes and tried desperately to send thought messages to Father, telling him I loved him and wished I could be with him to comfort him. Then I cried until I really
did
give myself a headache.
I fell asleep at some point, and then woke in the middle of the night, my heart pounding, scarcely able to breathe. My clothes were all tight and twisted about me, but even when I’d torn them off and put on my nightgown, I still felt constricted.
Father, Father, Father!
I thought, through the rest of that terrible long night.
MOTHER DIDN’T GET up to make breakfast the next morning. She lay on her bed. Cassie stayed in her room and I stayed in mine, though I could tell from the rustle of bedclothes and creakings of the beds that we were all awake.
Cassie gave in first. She knocked on my door until I pushed the washstand aside. She came trailing into my room in her nightgown, yawning and rubbing her eyes.
‘Come on, you. It doesn’t look as if Mother’s going to stir. Oh Lordy, what a palaver.’ She sat down on my bed. I stayed curled in a tight ball. ‘Try not to worry, sis,’ she said softly, patting my shoulder, her long hair tickling my face.
I struggled up and we gave each other a quick fierce hug. Then Cassie padded off to get dressed. I put on my ugly school uniform – but when Cassie had trailed off to work, sadly clutching the heliotrope dress, I went back to my own room and undressed down to my drawers.
I was sure that Mother was still awake, although she’d refused to respond to our knocking and had ignored the cup of tea Cassie had brought her. I tiptoed into Cassie’s room. It smelled just like her – of rose soap and Parma violet powder and soft girl body. I wanted to curl up in her warm bed and lull myself to sleep, but instead I looked through the clothes hanging on a rail behind a flowery curtain. Cassie was an untidy girl by nature and she’d gone out without making her bed and left her dressing table smeared with powder, but her clothes were in immaculate order, each dress sponged at the armpits, every hem sewn neatly into place.
I
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