‘Perhaps things won’t be as bad as you fear,’ Emmy said hopefully. In truth she was more concerned about her father’s whereabouts than losing the house but she didn’t dare say that.
‘I assure you theyare!’ Dorcas almost snapped her head off. She had always envied the closeness her firstborn and her husband shared.
Abigail started to cry. ‘Does this mean we won’t have time to get to the seamstress again tomorrow?’ she asked dejectedly. ‘I was hoping to have my new gown finished for when I went back to school.’
‘You won’t behavinga new gown and you won’t be going back to school either,’ her mother informed her abruptly as she dabbed ineffectively at the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.
‘What?’The colour drained out of Abigail’s face. ‘But I .?.?. Imustfinish the year. And what about going on to a finishing school?’
Dorcas shook her head. ‘I have a very small inheritance left to me by my grandmother, which thankfully I insisted should be kept separate from everything else. We should be able to live frugally on that for a while but when that’s gone .?.?.’
As her voice trailed away, Abigail began to wail and Emmy glared at her. How could she think of new gowns and finishing schools at a time like this? she wondered. Personally, she was far more concerned about where their father was, although she bit her cheek to stop herself from blurting it out.
‘May I get you anything, Mama?’ Emmy enquired. Her mother seemed to have aged ten years in as many hours.
Dorcas was gazing vacantly towards the window but she glanced at Emmy and shook her head. ‘Er, no thank you. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like a little time to myself to gather my thoughts.’
Emmy nodded and grasping Abi’s arm she almost hauled her out of the room, closing the door behind them. Once in the hallway Abi shook her off and stamped her daintily shod foot.
‘How could Papadothis to us?’ she wailed. ‘Do you think this means we shall have to go and live with Uncle Bernard?’ She shook her head at the thought and grimaced. ‘And Aunt Sybil – she’s never liked me, you know! I heard her once telling Papa she thought I was flighty and spoilt!’
Emmy secretly agreed with her aunt on that score but she wisely didn’t admit it. Instead, she asked, ‘Don’t you think we should be more worried about where Papa is? He must have been in a terrible state of mind to clear off like that.’
Abi ground her teeth. ‘He can go to the devil for all I care!’ she spat. ‘How could he just walk away like that leaving Mama to clear his mess up? And what will happen to my pony if we have to leave here?’
Once again Abi’s thoughts and concerns were all for herself and Emmy felt the beginning of a headache start to throb behind her eyes as she imagined her father somewhere all alone and heartbroken.
‘Excuse me, I think I’m going to go for a lie-down,’ she told her sister as she headed for the stairs. ‘I need a little time to think.’ And with that she went on her way, leaving Abi to rant as she paced up and down the highly polished tiles on the hallway floor.
The following morning, although Abi helped herself to a little of everything laid out for them on the sideboard in the dining room, Emmy found that when she tried to eat, the food just seemed to lodge in her throat. She had tossed and turned all night worrying about her father and wondering how she might find him. So much so that at one point in the early hours she had seriously considered saddling her own pony and going to look for him. But then common sense had kicked in and she had realised how fruitless that would be. Her father could be anywhere by now and it would have been like looking for a needle in a haystack, so she had lain in bed restlessly watching the dawn break through her bedroom window.
‘I think Papa could come back today now that he’s had time to consider what a mess he’s left us in,’ Abi stated optimistically as she speared a juicy sausage.
Emmy shook her head. ‘I doubt it. If things are as bad as Mama said then he’s probably too ashamed to face us.’
Abi sniffed disdainfully. ‘Huh! And so he should be.’
Emmy scraped her chair away from the table, her temper rising. ‘Did you ever consider that you might have contributed to Papa’s problems, when you were demanding new gowns,’ she said angrily. ‘Orwhen you insisted that your pony was too small for you so you needed another one.Orwhat the price of your school fees might be.’
Abi tossed her head. ‘He should have said if we couldn’t afford those things!’
‘Oh yes, and risk one of your tantrums!’ Hands on hips, Emmy glared at her and Abi was so shocked that she temporarily fell silent. She could count on one hand the number of times Emmy had lost her temper with her in her whole life but she certainly looked angry now and her eyes were flashing. ‘You’re just .?.?. justutterlyselfish,’ Emmy finished and she stormed from the room in a swish of skirts, leaving her sister to stare after her open-mouthed.
Emmy slammed out of the room so abruptly that she almost collided with Hetty who had just come into the hall armed with beeswax polish to start polishing the banister rails.
‘Are you all right, miss?’ Her voice was full of concern as she saw the tears in Emmy’s eyes.
‘Oh, Hetty, I wish I could answer yes but I’m not! Nothing is!’ Emmy sobbed and, lifting her skirts, she raced up the stairs in a most unladylike manner.
Hetty chewed on her lip for a moment then placing the polish down on a small console table she quietly followed the young miss up the stairs. Since going to work there when she was just thirteen, Hetty had always adored Emmy. She never talked down to her like Miss Abigail did and Hetty was concerned about her.
She tapped tentatively on Emmy’s bedroom door; she knew she would cop it if Mrs Parrot the housekeeper caught her skiving but she couldn’t bear to see Emmy upset.
‘C-come in,’ a choky voice said, and Hetty quietly opened the door and stepped inside to find Miss Emmy sprawled across the bed crying her heart out.
‘Is there anythin’ I can get fer yer, miss?’
Emmy glanced up into Hetty’s concerned face and managed a wavery smile. ‘Not unless you can wave a magic wand and put everything right.’ Sitting up, Emmy swiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry, Hetty. I’m not usually given to bouts of weeping, but .?.?.’ She frowned. Should she tell Hetty what had happened or would it be best to keep the news to herself? she wondered. But then common sense told her that everyone would know soon and she trusted Hetty, so she patted the bed at the side of her and Hetty crossed to plonk herself down.
