‘We know it’s not,’ said Jemima, spraying crumbs across the table through a mouthful of pain au chocolat. ‘You’re forgetting we’ve read your diary.’
Aggie winced. ‘Yes, and I’m terribly sorry about that, dear. But until we found your diaries and the bracelet under that floorboard, you know, we hadn’t the slightest idea about any of this.’
Hetty swallowed, feeling a huge weight on her shoulders. Of course. Her notebooks. In her old life, writing things down had become such an important part of her life. These notebooks had become like her closest friend – her only friend. She had written tirelessly on her scientific theories and studies, of course, but she’d also confessed her deepest thoughts and feelings, too. About the darkness that engulfed her. About the other, more confusing feelings, the dreams she couldn’t possibly admit to.
She should have got rid of those particular notebooks before she’d attempted The Switch. She’d never imagined others reading them.
Her cheeks felt hot, her throat tight. ‘So you know? About my preference for …?’
The aunts nodded.
‘I realise such things are completely unacceptable. My nanny always said—’
Aggie looked very stern. ‘Your nanny was wrong, Henrietta. Even in your time, women lived together – loved together.’
Hetty wasn’t convinced. ‘Yes, I know, but that was platonic love. I mean, I do realise there were two ladies in the village who shared rooms, but they were very good friends. And the two of you—’
Aggie laughed. ‘Are sisters, Hetty!’
‘We’re not spinsters, dear,’ said Jemima. ‘Well, Aggie is,’ she added, ignoring Aggie’s pointed cough, ‘but I’m a widow, you know. Who knows about the ladies in your village, but women can marry nowadays.’
‘One another?’ asked Hetty incredulously. She took a sip of tea, unsure what to say. She was hesitant to believe that what she suspected was coming, was coming. But come it did.
‘My wife Kate died just last year,’ Jemima said. ‘We were partners for forty years. Married for seven, from the month they made it legal.’
‘Your wife,’ Hetty asked, astonished.
‘Yes, dear. The love of my life, really. It’s still so hard to believe she’s gone. Thank goodness I have Aggie, or I don’t know where I’d be.’
Aggie handed her sister a tissue, squeezing her hand.
‘Now then, Jemima, you’re doing very well, you know. Kate would be so proud to see you now, and I do hope you’ll continue living with me.’
Hetty felt a sob rise in her throat and swallowed it back down, quite overcome at how close the sisters were.
‘I’m so, so sorry for your loss, Jemima. It sounds most dreadful.’
Aggie took one look at her and passed the packet of tissues over.
Hetty wiped the tears she found running down her cheeks. ‘So you’re saying it’s fine? To feel this way about women?’
Her aunts spoke as one, still holding hands. ‘Yes, dear.’
Jemima smiled through her tears and then signalled something to the woman behind the counter. A waitress carefully brought over a slice of cake. It had seven layers,Hetty noticed – each a different shade of the rainbow. The smiling waitress set it down and used a small device to light some sparklers on the top.
‘I had them do it just for you,’ said Jemima, smiling through her tears.
Hetty gazed at the swirl of chocolate letters on the plate. ‘Congratulations on coming out,’ she read in a whisper, then looked up at their smiling faces. Acceptance shone from eyes where she’d expected to see judgement, and it felt as though her heart beat as loudly as the cake in front of her. There was nothing wrong with her – there never had been. Hetty’s spirit soared as she felt unseen shackles loosen from her body. There was nothing wrong, nothing unnatural about her feelings. She was free.
Aggie grinned. ‘Welcome to 2023, dear.’
‘Now,’ added Jemima cheekily, grabbing her hand across the table and giving it a squeeze. ‘Time to address that “first kiss” entry on your list?’
Chapter 24
1817
Etta didn’t have to wait long for Max’s response, but it didn’t come in the form of a letter. It was an invitation: she was finally going to Gunter’s for long-promised ices.
