Fact is, this is the first time all three of us has been together in a long while. Not like when the girls was younger and used to visit the cemetery all the time.
“Oh, my dear, you look so pale!” Livy says now. “You must be terribly upset about your visit.”
The thing about Livy is that she says things like that but she means something else. She don’t think it’s terribly upsetting Mrs. C. is in Holloway-to her it’s great fun, though she would never admit it. She looks so excited now, that I know what’s to come next.
She sits Maude down at the table. “Now,” she says, “I want to suggest something to you.” She’s acting like no one else is there-like I’m not sitting at the table, too, and Mrs. B. ain’t peeling potatoes at the sideboard, and our Jenny ain’t taking a tray with the breakfast things through to the scullery. But she knows we’re there and listening. “I know you’ll say no, so I want you to promise to be quiet until I’ve finished what I have to say. Do you promise?”
“All right,” Maude says.
“I want to come with you this morning to visit your mother.”
“You can‘t-
“I haven’t finished yet.”
Maude frowns but stays quiet.
“You know it will be horrid and it will upset you. Don’t you want your friend to be there with you, holding your hand and helping you to be as brave as you can in front of your mother?”
We all wait to hear what Maude will say-our Jenny standing in the scullery door, Mrs. B. frowning at a potato skin like she’s not listening. “But what about your mother?” Maude says. “And Daddy? I’m sure he won’t let you.”
Livy smiles. “Mama needn’t know, and don’t you worry about your father. He’ll say yes-I’ll make sure of it.”
She will too. Livy can make a man do anything she likes. I’ve seen her at the cemetery, rolling her eyes and swirling her skirt, and men do what she says. Even Mr. Jackson fetches her a watering can if she wants one-though that may be ‘cause he still feels bad about her angel getting broke. Unless you look real hard you can’t see the join in the neck where the mason fitted the head back on, but they made a mess of the nose. Probably should’ve left it chipped. Once I took Livy round the angels and showed her all the chips and scratches on them. I did it to make her feel better, but it just seemed to upset her.
“Maude, are you ready?”
Everybody turns to stare at Maude’s pa come down the stairs. The way our Jenny and Mrs. B. act Jenny’s eyes get big, and Mrs. B. lets her knife slip so she cuts her thumb and has to suck it-it’s clear he don’t ever come down here. He must be feeling nervous about going to Holloway, or he don’t like the whole house above us all empty, and has come looking for people.
Even Maude jumps to see him here. “Yes, Daddy, I just need to-to get one thing in my room. I’ll be right back.” She looks at Livy, then squeezes past her pa and runs upstairs. He still stands at the bottom of the stairs, looking like he’s surprised himself that he’s down here.
Livy’s getting ready to work her charm. “Mr. Coleman-”
But Mr. C. has spotted me. “Mrs. Baker, who is this boy eating our bread?”
Mrs. B. don’t even flinch. “Gardener’s boy, sir.” She chose well-the garden is Mrs. C.’s territory. Mr. C. probably don’t even set foot in it except to smoke a cig. He won’t know which is the gardener’s boy.
Mr. C. looks out at the rain. “Well, he certainly picks his days, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, he does, sir. Do you hear, Simon? There’ll be no gardening for you. Off you go, now.”
I gulp down the rest of my tea, put on my cap, and step out into the rain. I don’t get to say nothing to Maude, nor hear Livy’s sweet talk. Never mind-at least my tum’s full.
Lavinia Waterhouse
Really it was not at all difficult. I simply appealed to his softer nature. And he does have a soft nature. He clearly is a broken man with his wife in prison-anyone can see that if they only look. But I am not sure anyone is looking except me. I do feel, too, that he and I have a special connection, because of the letter. Although he does not know that I wrote it, he must know someone is looking out for him.
For a long time I could not understand why he did not throw his wife out once he had read the letter, but now that I am older and beginning to understand men better, I see that he has quite gallantly set aside his own feelings in order to protect the family name from scandal.
He said yes when I asked to accompany them to Holloway. I repeated more or less what I had said to Maude-that I would be a comfort to her in difficult circumstances-but also suggested he was being an exemplary father and gentleman to consider his daughter’s needs in that way.
I cannot help but think that he said yes in part because he prefers my company to Maude’s. Certainly I was the livelier one in the cab over. But how could I not be-we were to see the inside of a prison! I couldn’t think of anything more deliciously exciting.
The only dampening element (apart from the rain, ha ha!) was that as the cab drove past our house I saw Ivy May had pulled aside the net curtain and was looking out of the window. She seemed to look right at me, and I had to pray that she would not tattle on me-Mama thinks Maude and I were at the library.
I had never seen Holloway prison before. As we walked up to the arched wooden doors of the main entrance, I squeezed Maude’s arm. “It looks like a castle!” I whispered.
To my amazement Maude wrenched her arm away. “This isn’t a fairy tale!” she hissed.
Well. I was a little put out, but soon recovered when I saw the woman who opened the side door to let us in. She was short and fat and wore a gray uniform, with a big bunch of keys hanging at her waist. Best of all, she had a huge mole on her upper lip. She was just like a character out of Dickens, though I didn’t say so to Maude. I had to clap my hand over my mouth so the woman wouldn’t see me laughing. She did, though, the troll.
We went into a reception room, and Maude and I sat on a narrow bench while Troll opened a ledger book and took down Mr. Coleman’s details. I was amazed she could read and write.
Troll looked up at us. “Only one of youse can come in,” she said. “Only three visitors allowed at one time, an’ one’s already there. One of youse’ll have to wait here.” She fixed a yellow eye on me.
“Another visitor?” Mr. Coleman looked puzzled. “Who?”
Troll put her finger on a page in the ledger. “Miss C. Black.”
“Damn her! What the devil’s she doing here?”
“She arranged a visit, same as you.”
“She’s no relation to my wife. Tell her she has to go.”
Troll smiled slyly. “She’s a right to see ‘er, same as anyone else. It’s your wife decides who she sees an’ don’t sees.”
Poor Mr. Coleman was furious but there was nothing he could do. “You two wait here for me,” he said to us.
“But I’ve come to see Mummy!” Maude cried.
“It’s best if you stay here with Lavinia. We can’t leave her alone.”
He turned to the woman. “Can the girls wait here for me?”
Troll just grunted.
I smiled, relieved by his chivalry.
“But Lavinia will be fine here on her own,” Maude insisted. “Won’t you, Lavinia?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but that nasty woman jumped in. “I don’t want two of youse cluttering up my bench.” She pointed at Maude. “You go with your da, and you”-pointing at me-“wait where you are.” She went to the door and called out something into the corridor.
I was so shocked I couldn’t speak. Being left alone in a prison with a horrid troll? And for such a silly reason as the space needed on a hard bench? Clearly Troll was saying this simply to get at me. I turned to Mr. Coleman for help. Unfortunately he then revealed that he is not so gallant as I thought-he simply nodded at Troll.