I have been called away because someone very kind wants to help me make my brides box dresses real. Just think! They won’t be just drawings anymore but real dresses! I wish I could take you with me; truly I do. But Mum would worry about you too much and she would be very cross with me. I want you to stay here with Aunt Charlotte while I am gone. She will take good care of you. Before you know it, all the children will be going back home to London and I will come see you at the flat and show you the dresses. Won’t that be lovely?
Be a good girl and mind Aunt Charlotte. The time will pass quickly, I promise.
Love,
Emmy
As Emmy read the letter back to herself, an ache swelled in her chest at the thought of leaving Julia, perhaps for the duration of the war. Would it be months before Emmy saw her again? Years? Would Julia forgive her for leaving her in the middle of the night? As she folded the letter and put it inside the envelope she had brought, she prayed that Julia would one day understand why it had to be this way. She printed Julia’s name on the front of the envelope and then blew the letters dry. Emmy touched theJ to make sure it would not smear in her pocket, and her index finger lingered on the swirl of the letter’s tail. It looked very much like the handle of an umbrella. The ache in her chest threatened to morph into something more like dread at the thought of leaving Julia behind. Emmy quickly slipped the letter into the pocket of her skirt so that she would not have to look at it anymore. Then she took the second piece of stationery and began to write.
Dear Charlotte:
I am so very sorry that I must return to London in a way that I am sure will disappoint you. You have been nothing but kind and generous to my sister and me, and I will always be in your debt. I have been given an opportunity to work alongside someone who can help me turn my bridal sketches into real gowns. It is an opportunity I cannot pass up. I mean no disrespect to you, and I ask that whatever feelings you have toward me for what I have done, please spare them from my sister. Please hold nothing against her because of my actions; just watch over her and keep her safe.
Thank you for everything you have done for me and will continue to do for Julia.
I hope you can forgive me.
You can rest assured that I am in safe company.
Yours,
Emmeline Downtree
Emmy read the letter over a few times to make sure there was nothing else she could add that would lessen Charlotte’s distress. She could already feel the weight of Charlotte’s displeasure as she folded the letter, placed itin its envelope, and wrote Charlotte’s name across the front. When the ink was dry, Emmy placed the second letter in her skirt pocket along with the first.
When she got back to Thistle House, a surprising sense of melancholy swept over her as she realized that in less than twenty-four hours she would be gone, perhaps never to return. Ever. The war would end eventually, Julia would be sent home, and Emmy would have no need—and perhaps no invitation—to return to Thistle House. She took the stairs slowly as she went to her room to hide the letters in the brides box for the time being.
The rest of the day passed too slowly. Emmy found herself unable to concentrate on simple tasks or finish anything she started. Though she tried to project an unburdened state of mind, Charlotte asked her late in the afternoon if she was feeling all right. Flustered, Emmy answered that it was just her time of the month, and Charlotte promptly made a tea of soothing herbs that she said she used to brew for herself “back in the day.”
Emmy thanked her and took the tea to her room to further the ruse that she wasn’t feeling well. When she opened the door, Julia was sitting on Emmy’s bed with the brides box in her lap. The letter addressed to Charlotte lay open and tented near her knee, likely unread because of the cursive handwriting. The letter addressed to her, however, she held in her hand. Though Julia startled when Emmy walked into the room, guilt at being caught with the brides box without permission evaporated quickly into accusatory shock. Emmy could tell by her expression that Julia had read the letter. Emmy had printed the words carefully so that she would be able to do just that.
“What are you doing?” Emmy exclaimed, though itwas plain as day what Julia had been doing. And what her little sister now knew.
Emmy strode toward the bed, spilling hot tea over her wrist and onto the floor. She put the sloshing cup on the bedside table and grabbed the letter out of Julia’s hand.
“What have I told you about getting out the brides box when I’m not around?” Emmy scolded, reaching now for Charlotte’s letter and the two envelopes, and scooping up the brides box in her other hand. “You’re not supposed to get it out unless you ask me first!”
Emmy’s heart was pounding and her hands shook though she desperately willed them to stop. She stuffed the letters inside the box and snapped it shut.
“Where are you going?” Julia’s voice was whisper thin.
“You’re supposed to ask me first,” Emmy said again, ignoring Julia’s question.
“Where are you going? What’s that letter for? What are you doing?”
With each question, Julia’s voice got louder.
“Keep your voice down! There is nothing you need to know right now.”
“Are you running away? Is that what you’re doing?”
“Julia—”
“You were going to take the brides box and leave me here, weren’t you? That’s what you were going to do!”
“Julia, please!” Emmy begged, all anger gone. Fear filled the empty space it left behind. She sat down on the bed next to her sister, the brides box clasped close to her chest. “Please keep your voice down. Please?”
“You can’t just leave me here! How could you leave me here?”
