indeed. Mrs Brewer was wrong.’ He took a deep breath and, with his eyes still on Emily, said, ‘Now be a good girl, Deborah, and give Emily her hairpins back so that she can fasten up her hair.’
‘No! I won’t! She can buy some more. I shall wear these in my hair.’ She stuck the pins in her own dishevelled hair and screaming with laughter she ran out of the room and up the stairs.
‘I’m sorry, Emily. My daughter can be difficult sometimes,’ he began, but she said swiftly, ‘It’s all right sir, I can borrow some more and get mine back later.’ But her eyes were drawn to the open door and the stairs beyond and the figure of Mrs Francis in her nightclothes coming downstairs.
‘What are we to do with her? There is no consideration for me.’ Mrs Francis’s voice was tense as she came through the door. ‘A decision must be made.’ Then she saw Emily standing facing her husband as if they had been in conversation. Her already pale face whitened even further and she put her hand on the door to steady herself. ‘It can’t be.’ She stared hard at Emily and then herhusband and then back to Emily. She shook her head as if to clear it. ‘Not her daughter? Not here?’ She stared at her husband with such a look of hatred that Emily shivered. ‘You wouldn’t do such a thing!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ he burst out. ‘You’re mistaken.’
‘I think not,’ she said slowly and deliberately. ‘I always thought there was something familiar about her.’
‘You are mistaken,’ he repeated, then turning to Emily he dismissed her and she thankfully hurried downstairs to the kitchen, where she burst into tears.
‘Whatever’s wrong? What’s happened to your hair?’ Mrs Castle rubbed her floury hands on her apron and scurried across to the dresser, where she delved into a drawer and brought out a handful of hairpins. ‘Come here, let me pin it up for you.’
She sat Emily on a chair and wound her hair into a bun. ‘Janey, go and get some more coal for ’fire. Go on! Don’t stand there gawping.’
‘Now then,’ she said, when Jane had left the room, ‘this is Miss Deborah’s doing, isn’t it? She’s at ’bottom of this?’
Emily nodded and wiped her tears and explained what had happened. ‘I’m frightened of losing my job, Mrs Castle. Mrs Francis wasn’t pleased with me. She said something – I don’t know what she meant – about me being somebody’s daughter!’
‘Did she?’ Mrs Castle put in the final pin and patted her shoulder. ‘Well, no point in worrying about owt until it happens. And if she does wantyou to leave, well I’m sure that Mr Francis will give you a reference.’
Emily stared at her. ‘But – I haven’t done anything! I’ve done what I can for Miss Deborah. I don’t understand!’
‘I told you!’ Mrs Castle rinsed her hands in the stone sink, dried them and then dipped her hand into a bag of flour and sprinkled it on to the table. ‘I told you that there would be things that you wouldn’t understand. This is one of them.’
Emily took a deep breath. ‘Miss Deborah – is she –?’
The question lay unspoken between them. Mrs Castle glanced towards the door. ‘She’s not mad, if that’s what you mean, at least not as mad as her brother. But’, she tapped a finger to her forehead, ‘there’s summat a bit loose in ’top storey.’
Emily whispered. ‘Her brother? She mentioned her brother.’
‘Aye. He’s her twin. He’s in ’asylum for ’insane, poor fellow. But Miss Deborah’s just a bit wild, though sometimes you might think she’s heading ’same way.’ She pounded a hunk of dough. ‘It runs in ’family unfortunately.’
Mrs Francis always looks as if she’s on the edge of something, Emily pondered, though you would think that living with Miss Deborah would be enough to drive anybody over. ‘From Mrs Francis’s side?’ she said urgently as she heard Jane fumbling with the door latch.
‘Bless you, no!’ Mrs Castle
‘No! I won’t! She can buy some more. I shall wear these in my hair.’ She stuck the pins in her own dishevelled hair and screaming with laughter she ran out of the room and up the stairs.
‘I’m sorry, Emily. My daughter can be difficult sometimes,’ he began, but she said swiftly, ‘It’s all right sir, I can borrow some more and get mine back later.’ But her eyes were drawn to the open door and the stairs beyond and the figure of Mrs Francis in her nightclothes coming downstairs.
‘What are we to do with her? There is no consideration for me.’ Mrs Francis’s voice was tense as she came through the door. ‘A decision must be made.’ Then she saw Emily standing facing her husband as if they had been in conversation. Her already pale face whitened even further and she put her hand on the door to steady herself. ‘It can’t be.’ She stared hard at Emily and then herhusband and then back to Emily. She shook her head as if to clear it. ‘Not her daughter? Not here?’ She stared at her husband with such a look of hatred that Emily shivered. ‘You wouldn’t do such a thing!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ he burst out. ‘You’re mistaken.’
‘I think not,’ she said slowly and deliberately. ‘I always thought there was something familiar about her.’
‘You are mistaken,’ he repeated, then turning to Emily he dismissed her and she thankfully hurried downstairs to the kitchen, where she burst into tears.
‘Whatever’s wrong? What’s happened to your hair?’ Mrs Castle rubbed her floury hands on her apron and scurried across to the dresser, where she delved into a drawer and brought out a handful of hairpins. ‘Come here, let me pin it up for you.’
She sat Emily on a chair and wound her hair into a bun. ‘Janey, go and get some more coal for ’fire. Go on! Don’t stand there gawping.’
‘Now then,’ she said, when Jane had left the room, ‘this is Miss Deborah’s doing, isn’t it? She’s at ’bottom of this?’
Emily nodded and wiped her tears and explained what had happened. ‘I’m frightened of losing my job, Mrs Castle. Mrs Francis wasn’t pleased with me. She said something – I don’t know what she meant – about me being somebody’s daughter!’
‘Did she?’ Mrs Castle put in the final pin and patted her shoulder. ‘Well, no point in worrying about owt until it happens. And if she does wantyou to leave, well I’m sure that Mr Francis will give you a reference.’
Emily stared at her. ‘But – I haven’t done anything! I’ve done what I can for Miss Deborah. I don’t understand!’
‘I told you!’ Mrs Castle rinsed her hands in the stone sink, dried them and then dipped her hand into a bag of flour and sprinkled it on to the table. ‘I told you that there would be things that you wouldn’t understand. This is one of them.’
Emily took a deep breath. ‘Miss Deborah – is she –?’
The question lay unspoken between them. Mrs Castle glanced towards the door. ‘She’s not mad, if that’s what you mean, at least not as mad as her brother. But’, she tapped a finger to her forehead, ‘there’s summat a bit loose in ’top storey.’
Emily whispered. ‘Her brother? She mentioned her brother.’
‘Aye. He’s her twin. He’s in ’asylum for ’insane, poor fellow. But Miss Deborah’s just a bit wild, though sometimes you might think she’s heading ’same way.’ She pounded a hunk of dough. ‘It runs in ’family unfortunately.’
Mrs Francis always looks as if she’s on the edge of something, Emily pondered, though you would think that living with Miss Deborah would be enough to drive anybody over. ‘From Mrs Francis’s side?’ she said urgently as she heard Jane fumbling with the door latch.
‘Bless you, no!’ Mrs Castle
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