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Authors: Belinda Murrell
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moment.’
Alexander swept each of the girls up off the floor and into his arms for a bear hug and a rain of kisses.
‘Be good for your mama while I’m away, you mischievous lassies, or there will be no presents for anyone,’ Alexander teased, dropping Nell down gently on the floor.
Then he picked up Eliza’s hand and kissed it gently.
‘Farewell, farewell Eliza dear, the maid that I adore,’ he whispered. ‘I will be home soon, my love, never fear.’
Eliza stood up to hug him wordlessly. Alexander kissed her hard then walked quickly through the door, keen to finish the scene of farewell. The girls ran to the door to watch Wilson hand Alexander his hat and coat and hold the front door open. Alexander blew them one more kiss, and then he was gone.
Eliza sank back into her chair, then smiled brightly at the girls.
‘Well, the journey should only take a few days,’ Eliza said. ‘And I wonder what presents Papa will choose for us. I hope he remembers to bring the velvet for your new dresses; you are both growing so much.’
‘I hope he finds me a pretty blue velvet,’ said Nell.
Eliza stooped to pick up the dropped linen and Sophie noticed she moved a bit awkwardly. When Eliza leant back into the armchair and wedged a cushion behind her back, Sophie realised that Eliza’s pregnancy was now very obvious.
Outside, the wind howled, lashing the rain against the windows. Charlotte and Nell sat on the floor playing spillikins, while Eliza stared into the fire, her sewingforgotten. Sophie curled up on the window seat. Marmalade, the fat ginger cat, stalked over and sniffed her suspiciously, then ignored her.
Sophie felt exhausted but fought sleep, frightened she would slip back to her own time if she slept. She watched patiently as Eliza and the girls went up to bed. A servant banked the fire for the night and extinguished the candles, leaving Sophie in pitch darkness.
When the house was quiet, Sophie found a candle on the mantelpiece and, concentrating with all her might, tried to lift it up. She fumbled and knocked it and dropped it.
It seemed so strange that something as simple as picking up a candle was so difficult, yet she could fly and be invisible and dissolve through solid walls, all of which were totally impossible in her own life.
At last Sophie was able to pick up the candle, with trembling fingers. She held the wick against the red coals of the fire until it burst into flame. Now she had light.
Sophie wandered around the drawing room checking the portraits on the wall, the knick-knacks on the piano and the Indian curios on the mantelpiece by the candle’s flickering light.
A huge gilt mirror was hung over the fireplace in the drawing room. Sophie stared in the mirror at her reflection. She was not there, only the candle floating mysteriously by itself in midair, the drawing room reflected behind it. It gave her a fright: did she really exist any more?
Sophie took the candle and wandered through the ground floor, exploring. She could go into only the rooms where the doors were left ajar, as she could not fade through the doorways carrying the candle.
The clock chimed the quarter hour. The house was asleep. Only Marmalade the ginger cat remained to keep her company, strolling at her heels.
The storm outside gradually intensified until it was shaking the very foundations of the house. The wind buffeted the windows and rattled the doors and the shutters. The clock on the mantelpiece struck one o’clock.
A clatter sounded from the driveway. A horse galloped up the gravel, its hoof beats hardly audible over the storm. A crash sounded on the front door – a banging of fists –and then came an indecipherable shout. Sophie froze, her heart in her mouth.
With sudden clarity she knew what that terrible banging meant. She knew what dreadful news was on the other side of that door. In slow motion, she heard the stirrings in the house. Sophie blew out the candle flame and floated towards the front
Alexander swept each of the girls up off the floor and into his arms for a bear hug and a rain of kisses.
‘Be good for your mama while I’m away, you mischievous lassies, or there will be no presents for anyone,’ Alexander teased, dropping Nell down gently on the floor.
Then he picked up Eliza’s hand and kissed it gently.
‘Farewell, farewell Eliza dear, the maid that I adore,’ he whispered. ‘I will be home soon, my love, never fear.’
Eliza stood up to hug him wordlessly. Alexander kissed her hard then walked quickly through the door, keen to finish the scene of farewell. The girls ran to the door to watch Wilson hand Alexander his hat and coat and hold the front door open. Alexander blew them one more kiss, and then he was gone.
Eliza sank back into her chair, then smiled brightly at the girls.
‘Well, the journey should only take a few days,’ Eliza said. ‘And I wonder what presents Papa will choose for us. I hope he remembers to bring the velvet for your new dresses; you are both growing so much.’
‘I hope he finds me a pretty blue velvet,’ said Nell.
Eliza stooped to pick up the dropped linen and Sophie noticed she moved a bit awkwardly. When Eliza leant back into the armchair and wedged a cushion behind her back, Sophie realised that Eliza’s pregnancy was now very obvious.
Outside, the wind howled, lashing the rain against the windows. Charlotte and Nell sat on the floor playing spillikins, while Eliza stared into the fire, her sewingforgotten. Sophie curled up on the window seat. Marmalade, the fat ginger cat, stalked over and sniffed her suspiciously, then ignored her.
Sophie felt exhausted but fought sleep, frightened she would slip back to her own time if she slept. She watched patiently as Eliza and the girls went up to bed. A servant banked the fire for the night and extinguished the candles, leaving Sophie in pitch darkness.
When the house was quiet, Sophie found a candle on the mantelpiece and, concentrating with all her might, tried to lift it up. She fumbled and knocked it and dropped it.
It seemed so strange that something as simple as picking up a candle was so difficult, yet she could fly and be invisible and dissolve through solid walls, all of which were totally impossible in her own life.
At last Sophie was able to pick up the candle, with trembling fingers. She held the wick against the red coals of the fire until it burst into flame. Now she had light.
Sophie wandered around the drawing room checking the portraits on the wall, the knick-knacks on the piano and the Indian curios on the mantelpiece by the candle’s flickering light.
A huge gilt mirror was hung over the fireplace in the drawing room. Sophie stared in the mirror at her reflection. She was not there, only the candle floating mysteriously by itself in midair, the drawing room reflected behind it. It gave her a fright: did she really exist any more?
Sophie took the candle and wandered through the ground floor, exploring. She could go into only the rooms where the doors were left ajar, as she could not fade through the doorways carrying the candle.
The clock chimed the quarter hour. The house was asleep. Only Marmalade the ginger cat remained to keep her company, strolling at her heels.
The storm outside gradually intensified until it was shaking the very foundations of the house. The wind buffeted the windows and rattled the doors and the shutters. The clock on the mantelpiece struck one o’clock.
A clatter sounded from the driveway. A horse galloped up the gravel, its hoof beats hardly audible over the storm. A crash sounded on the front door – a banging of fists –and then came an indecipherable shout. Sophie froze, her heart in her mouth.
With sudden clarity she knew what that terrible banging meant. She knew what dreadful news was on the other side of that door. In slow motion, she heard the stirrings in the house. Sophie blew out the candle flame and floated towards the front
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