Serial Monogamy by Kate Taylor

mental disorder that he did not specify. Nelly recalled Mrs. Dickens had seemed perfectly sane when she had visited Park Cottage, but perhaps her mental health wavered according to her tribulations. How difficult it might be to live with a woman who was often in a low or worse yet violent mood. Still, Nelly did sense something untoward about such statements perhaps because she realized that whatever burden Mrs. Dickens might place on her family members, it was not exactly gentlemanly to complain about it to one’s correspondents.
    But what followed was worse. Again, Mr. Dickens denounced malicious gossip, and this time defended a pure and innocent soul as blameless as his own daughters. Apparently, an innocent who might be compared with his own daughters was being attached to his name. Nelly’s queasiness was suddenly replaced by a surge of heat as an uncomfortable flush rose up her cheeks to the roots of her hair, leaving her breathless and perspiring.
    She did believe she was innocent. She was certainly pure. She had not looked for scandal; she had not flirted. At least, she did not think she had flirted. Meeting Mr. Dickens as a fellow actor and manager of a production in which she was appearing, she had perhaps been less overwhelmed than other girls might have been, and thus more easily established a rapport with him. Her mother had permitted their occasional walks on the heath, and surely there was no shame there; they were always in full sight of dozens of people and she had never taken so much as a cup of tea alone with him. She had accepted gifts; it would have seemed rude to refuse them, but nothing more than a few tokens a manager might give an actress at the end of a successful engagement. He had put in a word for her in Drury Lane, but she had certainly never asked for such a favour and he had done the same for Maria too.
    If she knew full well the implication of his attentions, Nelly was certain her own response was proper; she had never made him any promises nor told him what he must do. She could reassure herself that she was not the cause of the Dickenses’ separation with a certitude she found deep in her soul, but she also thought it hard to believe that Mrs. Dickens was an unloving mother with a mental disorder. The letter seemed improbable and unwise: if his domestic affairs had been the subject of rumour and innuendo, such a statement would surely only inflame the gossips rather than tame them, whilealso bringing news of his separation to all sorts of people previously ignorant of it. The genial and big-hearted man she knew was full of captivating tales that would hold any audience spellbound, yet this writer seemed a cramped and unconvincing character more likely to delude himself than his reader, whoever he intended that to be. How could he have ever written such a thing, let alone allow it to fall into the hands of a newspaper? For the first time in her acquaintance with Mr. Dickens, Nelly began to question if their friendship was really wise.
    As she stared unhappily at the newspaper in front of her until she could no longer read the words, Mrs. Ternan now looked up from her correspondence with a smile.
    “There’s a very kind letter from Mr. Dickens, Nelly.”
    “Oh?”
    “He thinks Fanny should go to Italy. He truly believes in her talent and it is really the only place for voice training. I wonder…” Her mother hesitated. “I would need to go with her. I wonder if you and Maria would be all right here on your own for a few months? I don’t like to leave you alone in town, but it’s such an opportunity for Fanny. He’s offering to pay for the lessons and all our expenses.”

D uring the autumn that Al was absent from the house, I had to acclimatize myself to the horror that is alternating weekends. Every other Friday, I would pick up the girls from school, remove the half-eaten sandwiches and crumpled art projects from their backpacks to be replaced with nighties, toothbrushes and