Who knew how long this would last either? Perhaps until this strange gold bracelet snapped, like those two batty old ladies had said, or perhaps for a few hours. Or perhaps she’d fallen asleep and missed her stop and would wake up in Hammersmith any moment now. Either way, this was her dream-slash-life right now, and things were going to change. Pronto.
Etta looked down at her empty plate, her tummy rumbling still, then wandered into her bedroom. ‘Nanny, are you there? Tell me, does everyone else in my family go downstairs and eat a nice hot breakfast?’
Nanny paused, smoothing down the plain-looking faded pink dress she’d placed on the bed. ‘Well, yes, child. They’ll be there any moment. But …’
‘I wish to join them, Nanny.’
Nanny was clearly horrified by this development. ‘Oh no, Miss Hetty. They won’t be expecting you. And I think your mother would say we should call Mr Withings, the doctor. It’s so strange, seeing you up and about like this.’
‘No, Nanny. I’m going downstairs.’
Nanny looked dismayed. ‘But, Miss Hetty … You don’t even have any stays!’
Etta paused, then remembered a line from her favourite novel. The heroine had been so upset, the hero had had to unlace her stays. Stays must mean some sort of corset.
‘Then I shall go without,’ she said defiantly.
Nanny looked appalled. She wasshook, thought Etta. ‘Without stays! Miss Hetty! How could you think so? Well, I never!’
‘You can say “well, I never” all you like, Nanny, but I don’t see why I should be up here eating cold toast while everyone else is eating sausages and beans.’
‘Miss Hetty, I don’t think you’re quite well. You’re … You’re not making sense.’ Nanny was inches away from wringing her hands, so Etta softened her tone.
‘Perhaps not, but I reckon you’ve got the gist of what I’m saying. And if I have no stays, then I will have to go without them.’
Nanny looked more astonished than ever, but Etta noticed something else in her expression. Something like pride. They really must have all thought Hetty was past praying for. But Etta wasn’t. She stood quietly, watching Nanny rally from this unexpected conversation.
Recently, Etta had been forced to go on mandatory assertiveness training at work. At the time, it had felt boring and pointless – like her boss had been spending too much time on LinkedIn. But if there was ever a time to put what she’d learned into practice, it was now.
‘Listen, Nanny. I need you to pretend with me. Pretend that I am not Hetty, but someone else. A woman who isperfectly well. Someone who can speak and think and dress like anyone else.’ Etta watched carefully. Nanny was taking it well so far, so she continued, ‘Pretend I have come out of nowhere, and don’t know what to do or who anyone is. Now, what should we do? Let’s work together.’
To her mild surprise, it worked. Nanny seemed to pull herself together, with a little shake of her head.
‘Well, Miss Hetty. In that case, I shall go to your mother’s dresser and borrow some of her clothing. I’m sure Lady Bainbridge won’t mind. Or even notice, at that.’
The last comment was mumbled, as Nanny quickly bustled out of the room. Etta sat on her bed, fingering the dress there. The fabric was soft and well-worn. Looking more closely, she could see it had been hand-made with tiny little stitches. It had been mended many times around the hem. Hetty had nice clothes, she thought. Nice, but very old.
She got up and found a brush on top of a chest of drawers next to her bed. She could only assume she didn’t have a maid of her own – it looked like it had just been her and Nanny. However, as she began brushing her surprisingly long, pale hair out of its tight braid, she heard the tea tray being moved in the nursery next door.
She got up to see who it was and found a determined young woman of about her own age wearing a black dress and apron. ‘Hello?’
The woman’s slightly fierce look completely deserted her as she stared at Etta. The metal tray made a racket as it hit the floor, the teapot smashing and covering them both in lukewarm tea.
‘Miss— Miss Hetty?’
‘… Kind of. Who are you?’
The woman gaped at her, astonished. ‘I’m Bessie, your maid.’
Etta was relieved, despite the cold tea leaves on her feet. ‘Thank goodness. Do you think you could help me do my hair? I have absolutely no idea what to do with it and I want to go down to breakfast with everyone.’
‘Certainly, miss. I’ll ring the bell for someone to come and clean up this tea first. I’m so sorry about that.’
‘Oh, not your fault. I can’t imagine you were expecting me to be a whole different person this morning.’
Bessie continued to look stunned, even after the bell had been rung and a housemaid had come in to clean up the spilt tea. She took a heavy, silver-backed brush, and started brushing out Hetty’s long blonde locks. There was an awkward silence as she finished detangling it and began plaiting.
‘Bessie, I presume you’re not used to me talking or, well, doing much at all really. But can we pretend that I’m completely new here and don’t know anyone? That I’ve … I don’t know. That I’ve hit my head and am perfectly back to being a normal person, but have forgotten everything?’
