the same age as Kizzy but with a thin, fine-boned
face that was like the Admiral’s; she had his brown eyes too and they seemed to follow Kizzy across the room. The girl had brown ringlets and was wearing a dress of maroon cloth with full
white muslin sleeves, and a wide band of blue velvet running round the skirt. ‘You can tell it’s velvet though it’s only painted,’ whispered Kizzy in awe. The small bodice
was laced in blue up to a narrow white ruffle at the neck; the hands were holding a spray of roses. ‘I can guess she would rather they had been a pair of reins,’ said the Admiral.
‘She grew up to be a fine horsewoman.’
‘Who was she?’ asked Kizzy.
‘My grandmother.’
‘Your Gran . . . but she’s a little girl.’
‘Girls grow up,’ said the Admiral. ‘She married my grandfather – married very young. Her name was Kezia Cunningham; she was the last Cunningham. My grandfather was
another Admiral Twiss, but because Amberhurst House and the land were hers, they called themselves Cunningham Twiss.’
‘Like you,’ said Kizzy.
‘Like me. They had sons, the eldest was my father. My father had me – my mother died soon after I was born – so you see there were only boys.’ Kizzy studied the painting.
Though she did not like girls, she liked this one; the brown eyes were steady and friendly.
‘Kezia Cunningham Twiss – did she sleep in my room?’ Kizzy asked.
‘It was hers when she was a child. Come to think of it, Kiz, you might have been called after her. Kizzy might be from Kezia. She knew your Gran; they were friends. She liked
gypsies.’
Kizzy looked at her again. ‘Kezia.’ It gave her a curiously happy feeling to think they shared a name. ‘When was her birthday?’ Kizzy asked it earnestly.
‘I must look it up,’ and back in the library Admiral Twiss opened a big Bible that had a stand all to itself. ‘Here we are: Kezia Cunningham, born December 9th,
1858.’
‘I’ll take it for mine,’ and, just as she had studied the painting, Kizzy pored over the writing, the list of names.
‘All our family are in this book,’ said the Admiral.
‘Wish I could be in it,’ said Kizzy and sighed. ‘She would have wanted me to stay, especially if I’m Kezia.’
The Admiral did not answer.
‘No one comes to the house,’ argued Kizzy, ‘’cept Clem and he wouldn’t let on. Suppose you told everyone that I had gone away, Mrs Doe had taken me, and I stayed
here in your grandmother’s room until I was eighteen?’
The Admiral ran his hand through Kizzy’s curls. ‘They wouldn’t let us, Kiz.’
‘They wouldn’t know, only you and Peters and Nat, and they wouldn’t tell either. I could stay here with you and them – and Joe – and I wouldn’t have to go to
school.’
‘It’s a nice idea,’ said Admiral Twiss, ‘but it wouldn’t do.’
Kizzy set her lips.
Chapter Four
‘The case of Kizzy Lovell’.
The Children’s Department had decided to bring it before the Court, ‘Because we’re flummoxed,’ said Mr Blount.
The main room of a Town Hall, even of such a small town as Rye, seemed an oddly impressive place in which to discuss the fate of a small diddakoi.
The stairs up to it were wide with a heavy red cord on brass links as a banister rail. In the vestibule was a wooden model of a ship under a great glass dome that caught the light. The room
itself was high, wide and long, with high windows. There was a dais at one end, a big table below; it took anyone walking from the door a good many steps to reach that table, especially if they
were child steps.
Above the dais were the royal arms of England, the lion and the unicorn in gold and blue; below them a shield with the arms of Rye, three lions rampant on three ships’ sterns in gold. All
round the walls were panels lettered in gold with the names of the reigning king and queen, all the kings and queens of England from the time of Edward the First, 1272, and of all the mayors of Rye
face that was like the Admiral’s; she had his brown eyes too and they seemed to follow Kizzy across the room. The girl had brown ringlets and was wearing a dress of maroon cloth with full
white muslin sleeves, and a wide band of blue velvet running round the skirt. ‘You can tell it’s velvet though it’s only painted,’ whispered Kizzy in awe. The small bodice
was laced in blue up to a narrow white ruffle at the neck; the hands were holding a spray of roses. ‘I can guess she would rather they had been a pair of reins,’ said the Admiral.
‘She grew up to be a fine horsewoman.’
‘Who was she?’ asked Kizzy.
‘My grandmother.’
‘Your Gran . . . but she’s a little girl.’
‘Girls grow up,’ said the Admiral. ‘She married my grandfather – married very young. Her name was Kezia Cunningham; she was the last Cunningham. My grandfather was
another Admiral Twiss, but because Amberhurst House and the land were hers, they called themselves Cunningham Twiss.’
‘Like you,’ said Kizzy.
‘Like me. They had sons, the eldest was my father. My father had me – my mother died soon after I was born – so you see there were only boys.’ Kizzy studied the painting.
Though she did not like girls, she liked this one; the brown eyes were steady and friendly.
‘Kezia Cunningham Twiss – did she sleep in my room?’ Kizzy asked.
‘It was hers when she was a child. Come to think of it, Kiz, you might have been called after her. Kizzy might be from Kezia. She knew your Gran; they were friends. She liked
gypsies.’
Kizzy looked at her again. ‘Kezia.’ It gave her a curiously happy feeling to think they shared a name. ‘When was her birthday?’ Kizzy asked it earnestly.
‘I must look it up,’ and back in the library Admiral Twiss opened a big Bible that had a stand all to itself. ‘Here we are: Kezia Cunningham, born December 9th,
1858.’
‘I’ll take it for mine,’ and, just as she had studied the painting, Kizzy pored over the writing, the list of names.
‘All our family are in this book,’ said the Admiral.
‘Wish I could be in it,’ said Kizzy and sighed. ‘She would have wanted me to stay, especially if I’m Kezia.’
The Admiral did not answer.
‘No one comes to the house,’ argued Kizzy, ‘’cept Clem and he wouldn’t let on. Suppose you told everyone that I had gone away, Mrs Doe had taken me, and I stayed
here in your grandmother’s room until I was eighteen?’
The Admiral ran his hand through Kizzy’s curls. ‘They wouldn’t let us, Kiz.’
‘They wouldn’t know, only you and Peters and Nat, and they wouldn’t tell either. I could stay here with you and them – and Joe – and I wouldn’t have to go to
school.’
‘It’s a nice idea,’ said Admiral Twiss, ‘but it wouldn’t do.’
Kizzy set her lips.
Chapter Four
‘The case of Kizzy Lovell’.
The Children’s Department had decided to bring it before the Court, ‘Because we’re flummoxed,’ said Mr Blount.
The main room of a Town Hall, even of such a small town as Rye, seemed an oddly impressive place in which to discuss the fate of a small diddakoi.
The stairs up to it were wide with a heavy red cord on brass links as a banister rail. In the vestibule was a wooden model of a ship under a great glass dome that caught the light. The room
itself was high, wide and long, with high windows. There was a dais at one end, a big table below; it took anyone walking from the door a good many steps to reach that table, especially if they
were child steps.
Above the dais were the royal arms of England, the lion and the unicorn in gold and blue; below them a shield with the arms of Rye, three lions rampant on three ships’ sterns in gold. All
round the walls were panels lettered in gold with the names of the reigning king and queen, all the kings and queens of England from the time of Edward the First, 1272, and of all the mayors of Rye
Similar Books
