‘Your room. Charlie, I can hardly believe your mother still has Hetty in the nursery. She must be very nearly twenty-one by now.’
‘Better than the madhouse, Stanhope. That’s where most people would have her, but Mother’s too sentimental for that. Thinks they wouldn’t treat her well enough.’
‘She’s right,’ said Max. He gave Etta another curious look, arching one eyebrow, and opened the door for her. ‘But, Hetty, somehow I don’t think you’ll be in the nursery much longer.’
She barely had time to register a plain, dark room with a couple of old school desks scattered in front of a blackboard, before a short, kindly-looking woman in her late fifties bustled up.
‘Oh, Hetty, what on earth have you been doing? You should have been in bed a long time since!’
Charlie looked sheepish. ‘Sorry, Nanny. I took her for … well, for a talk.’
‘Now why would you want to be chatting with Miss Hetty, Lord Bainbridge? You know she barely says a word. And her in her nightdress, too! Why, it’s past midnight!’ It was at this point Nanny spotted Max. ‘My goodness, Lord Stanhope. I hope you’re well? Excuse me if I don’t curtsey. My knees aren’t what they were.’
‘Don’t worry, Mrs Cummings. I spent so much time here as a boy that you’re practically my nanny too, and I wouldn’t want Nanny Berkins curtseying to me either.’
Mrs Cummings blushed as she raced to smother Etta in a large and rather itchy blanket. Feeling it was time to say something, Etta stuck her hand out. ‘Lovely to meet you, Mrs Cummings. I’m Etta.’
She had never seen a blushing woman turn so pale so quickly. ‘Hetty! You … you spoke! Bless my days. Did you really speak?’
‘Well … yes?’
Mrs Cummings looked at Max, and then over to Charlie, as though needing their confirmation. Charlie pulled a face,then nodded in a non-committal manner. ‘Yes, well! I cured her. You’re welcome.’
‘Master Charles! Sorry, I mean Your Lordship. But – well, I never! You haven’t been experimenting with your sister again, have you? You know your mama forbade it!’
Charlie shrugged again. ‘I don’t see the harm. She has no idea what’s going on half the time. More! And anyway, as I said – I fixed her this time.’
Mrs Cummings looked cynical through her amazement. ‘We’ll see about that. Come, Hetty. Let’s warm you up by the fire. Off you go, Your Lordships.’ She shooed the two men out with the confidence of an old retainer.
Etta wasn’t sure what to say to the older woman, but it turned out she didn’t need to say anything at all. She found herself quickly ushered next door to a small bedroom, tucked into a rather uncomfortable bed and, although her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and conjecture, exhaustion soon overcame every other thought.
She dreamed of her last holiday – an ill-fated hen-do in Ibiza that happened too soon after her dad had died. The end of her family and the beginning of the end for her friend group too, before a global pandemic and romantic relationships had scattered them around the country.
If those eccentric old ladies were right and this truly was a holiday, then perhaps it would be more exciting than crying and watching a former friend shag her way through every nightclub on the island without even taking her engagement ring off.
Chapter 3
2023
Hetty was only very vaguely aware of the two older ladies next to her. Much more overpowering was the press of other bodies: the stench of humanity, the stinging light in her eyes.
And, of course, the noise. Oh, what noise. The roar of metal carriages bringing with them gusts of freezing air and waves of angry-looking people. The sound of feet pounding on steps, of metal staircases grinding. The bizarre intermittent noise that accompanied moving gates as the people around her seemed to flee onto the street almost as though for their own lives.
Hetty focused inwards. She knew she must breathe. She pressed forward and was grateful for the welcoming arms of her descendants.
‘What are we doing, Aggie?’ she heard the one who had introduced herself as Jemima hiss as bright sunlight hit her face. Hetty took large, grateful gulps of fresh air as they paused next to a wall and pulled her hair over her face. It was short, but it was at least thick enough to block out the confusing scene in front of her.
She felt Aggie’s hand pat hers as the woman continuedto argue with her sister. They’d been quarrelling over the meaning of free will and it was proving a welcome distraction.
‘Don’t let’s go through this again right now, Jemima. We’ve been through it more times than I can count.’
‘Yes, but Istilldon’t properly understand it,’ Jemima moaned. ‘And it’s hard to know how it ends, isn’t it, when the diary gets so patchy?’
Hetty peeked out from between her strangely dark hair. Aggie was glaring at Jemima in annoyance, but the sisters were seemingly unstoppable at this point.
‘I’m just saying. The Switch, or whatever has happened, does seem to have worked rather well. You must admit it’s quite the brain-fuck, isn’t it?’
‘Jemima!’
