Lizzie went and sat on the sofa and looked from one parent to the other. She had to think what to say. She’d have time – it would be a while before she would be allowed to respond. But whatcouldshe say? And the only thing she wanted to ask was how they’d found out.
But it appeared getting pregnant was different from missing the last bus and being terribly late home. They both fell silent, staring at her, expecting her to speak.
‘I’m terribly sorry,’ she said. ‘Obviously, I didn’t intend for it to happen.’
‘And did you also not intend for us to find out?’ said her father.
‘I had intended to tell you myself,’ said Lizzie with dignity. ‘I assume Dr Sharp told you?’
‘Yes, Dr Sharp told us!’ said her mother. ‘Imagine the humiliation, the utter shame, of being told by such a respected member of society that our daughter is little better than – than – one of those women who’s no better than she should be!’
‘I don’t think he should have told you! Isn’t it against the Hippocratic oath or something?’ said Lizzie, a thread of a history lesson coming into her mind.
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous!’ said her father. ‘You’re still a minor! He’s the family doctor. It’s his duty to tell us!’
Lizzie swallowed. Was her father right? Or was he just saying this for his own purposes?
‘We’ll never be able to hold our heads up in this town again!’ said her mother. ‘We have always been so proud of you, but now look what you’ve done. Brought shame on us, that’s what. Have you no sense of duty towards your parents?’
‘It was an accident, Mummy!’ said Lizzie, fighting tears.
‘You should have been more careful!’ said her mother, as if Lizzie had broken a vase when shewas dusting. Then she heard what she’d just said. ‘I mean, you shouldn’t have done it – whatever you did – in the first place!’
‘I’m sorry, Mummy,’ said Lizzie. But while she was truly sorry that she’d caused her parents so much distress, she wasn’t sorry for what had happened in the boathouse. She wasn’t sorry at all. ‘I think I’ll go upstairs now,’ she said, and left the room.
Chapter Twenty-three
What Lizzie had done was worse, apparently, than robbing a bank and leaving a cashier for dead. No one in the history of the world, it seemed, had been as ungrateful as she was. She wasn’t just ‘sharper than a serpent’s tooth’ ungrateful, she was as ungrateful as a whole nest of serpents with entire sets of teeth instead of just the one mentioned inKing Lear.
Lizzie followed her mother into the kitchen while she made supper. Her father had disappeared into his study and Lizzie felt that if her mother had a chance to get her feelings off her chest, she might calm down afterwards.
‘And I suppose you expect us to keep you while you’re expecting?’ said her mother.
‘Mummy,’ said Lizzie calmly. ‘I’m nineteen years old. I’m not a child. You didn’t have to bring me home. I had work I could do; you could have left me where I was perfectly safe and had a good job. I accept I couldn’t do waitressing when mypregnancy showed, but until then I could earn my own living. I could save up.’
‘And what would you do after the baby was born? How would you work then? Take in washing?’
Lizzie remembered the bags of antique linen David needed help with and thought this was actually quite a good idea. But she didn’t tell her mother. It wouldn’t help.
She put her hand on her mother’s arm. ‘I’ll help you get supper ready, Mummy.’
As Lizzie had been doing this since she was nine years old, she and her mother didn’t need to talk as they worked. Lizzie peeled potatoes, searched the cabbage for what her father called ‘livestock’ and washed it carefully. Her mother put both cabbage and potatoes on to boil at the same time. Lizzie wondered if she should propose one of the different ways of cooking cabbage she’d learnt at Madame Wilson’s but decided this wasn’t the time to suggest her mother tried new things. ‘Shall I do some carrots?’
‘If you want to. I’m not sure there’s time to cook them. Your father is hungry and making him wait for his supper will make him grumpy.’
Lizzie rolled her eyes. It would be difficult for him to get grumpier, surely. Although possibly being on his own with a few measures of whisky might help his mood.
‘This is quite like it was in the old days,’ she said brightly. ‘Us in the kitchen, cooking together.’
Her mother gave her a look that told her it was not remotely like the old days. In the old days her beloved daughter had not disgraced the family. ‘Go and set the table, please, Elizabeth.’
When they were all seated in the chilly dining room, halfway through their pork chops, her father said, ‘I don’t like to talk about unpleasant things at mealtimes but we might as well get this over with.’
‘We discussed your situation while you were upstairs,’ said Lizzie’s mother. ‘And we’ve made a plan.’
‘I’m not sure you can have made a plan without me being present to share in the discussion,’ said Lizzie. She never used to argue with her parents, she always just went along with what they thought best. But since her move to London – and possibly getting pregnant – she was no longer so biddable.
‘The plan is’, her father went on as if Lizzie hadn’t spoken, ‘to send you to my cousin Margaret, in Yorkshire.’
