Queenie. She suddenly realised why the room was making her feel so uneasy. Not one of the babies was making a sound. Not a whimper or a whine of hunger. They were all lying as still as still could be, their eyes open and staring. Queenie knew enough about babies to know that was just not right.
16
Ellen
It was a bitter cold afternoon. Not a day to be leaving the comforts of the parlour fire. But warm anticipation had been flowing through me since I’d woken that morning and I barely felt the need for the winter cloak and bonnet that Mary pressed upon me.
‘Don’t stay out too long, miss,’ she warned me. ‘I don’t want you getting the chills. And mind your father does not hear of this. You know he would not approve of you and Jacob meeting alone.’
‘Do not fuss, Mary,’ I told her. ‘I will be discreet. And please hurry with my bonnet!’
She finished tying the ribbons under my chin and I hurried out to the garden. The air outside stung my cheeks with its delicious coldness. As I walked down the steps of the terrace on to the path that led away from the house, I tried to calm myself and slow my pace.
The garden was quite bare except for a smattering of evergreen shrubs planted at intervals along the borders, but as I walked further along, I noticed the bright white of daphne flowers blinking at me and golden patches of winter aconite nestled underneath the trees. Where was Jacob, though? The garden was not so large for me to have to hunt him out.
‘Ellen!’ Jacob’s voice sounded from behind me and I turned to see him hurrying along the path towards me. I felt my cheeks grow hot, despite the cold.
‘Ellen!’ he said, as he came up beside me. ‘I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for too long?’
‘No . . . no,’ I assured him. ‘I have only been out here for a moment.’
‘Good,’ he said. Then he took my hand and hooked it in the crook of his arm as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
We walked in silence for a while, around the walled flower garden and back up the pathway to face the house. Jacob stopped and I turned to look at him, expecting him to say something. But he was staring at the house. I took the opportunity to study his profile; the way his skin darkened along his jaw line and the slight dimple in his cheek.
‘You are very fortunate,’ he said, still looking at the house. ‘To live in such a place. To have such a life.’
His words took me by surprise. ‘Yes, I suppose I am,’ I said. I did not want to sound ungrateful and I could not tell him how dull and empty my life usually was. ‘I have never really thought about it before.’
‘Of course you haven’t. My beautiful cousin. Why would you have had to?’ He was looking at me now and smiling. I felt encouraged to continue the conversation.
‘Did you not live in a house like this one? Before, I mean? Before your mother passed away?’
‘Ha! Oh, Ellen,’ he said. ‘Your father really didn’t tell you anything, did he?’
‘No,’ I said quietly. ‘I did not even know he had a sister. Or that I had a cousin. All I know,’ I ventured, ‘is what Mary has told me since.’
‘And what is that?’ asked Jacob.
‘That my father and your mother had a falling out.’
Jacob began walking again and I gripped the crook of his elbow to keep pace with him. ‘My mother was a good woman, Ellen,’ he said. She was a friend of the poor, you know. Not long after I was born we were forced to move from London to a small village
.
Father was ill and Mother nursed him until he died. Then she carried on; nursing the sick, visiting the poor and cheering up the old and infirm. Not much of a life, was it? She should have had so much more. She
could
have had so much more.’ He paused. ‘So, no, Ellen. I never did live in a house like this one.’
He suddenly turned to me and took hold of both my hands. ‘Anyway,’ he said. ‘Enough of boring old me. It’s freezing out here! What do you say we go inside, get
16
Ellen
It was a bitter cold afternoon. Not a day to be leaving the comforts of the parlour fire. But warm anticipation had been flowing through me since I’d woken that morning and I barely felt the need for the winter cloak and bonnet that Mary pressed upon me.
‘Don’t stay out too long, miss,’ she warned me. ‘I don’t want you getting the chills. And mind your father does not hear of this. You know he would not approve of you and Jacob meeting alone.’
‘Do not fuss, Mary,’ I told her. ‘I will be discreet. And please hurry with my bonnet!’
She finished tying the ribbons under my chin and I hurried out to the garden. The air outside stung my cheeks with its delicious coldness. As I walked down the steps of the terrace on to the path that led away from the house, I tried to calm myself and slow my pace.
The garden was quite bare except for a smattering of evergreen shrubs planted at intervals along the borders, but as I walked further along, I noticed the bright white of daphne flowers blinking at me and golden patches of winter aconite nestled underneath the trees. Where was Jacob, though? The garden was not so large for me to have to hunt him out.
‘Ellen!’ Jacob’s voice sounded from behind me and I turned to see him hurrying along the path towards me. I felt my cheeks grow hot, despite the cold.
‘Ellen!’ he said, as he came up beside me. ‘I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for too long?’
‘No . . . no,’ I assured him. ‘I have only been out here for a moment.’
‘Good,’ he said. Then he took my hand and hooked it in the crook of his arm as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
We walked in silence for a while, around the walled flower garden and back up the pathway to face the house. Jacob stopped and I turned to look at him, expecting him to say something. But he was staring at the house. I took the opportunity to study his profile; the way his skin darkened along his jaw line and the slight dimple in his cheek.
‘You are very fortunate,’ he said, still looking at the house. ‘To live in such a place. To have such a life.’
His words took me by surprise. ‘Yes, I suppose I am,’ I said. I did not want to sound ungrateful and I could not tell him how dull and empty my life usually was. ‘I have never really thought about it before.’
‘Of course you haven’t. My beautiful cousin. Why would you have had to?’ He was looking at me now and smiling. I felt encouraged to continue the conversation.
‘Did you not live in a house like this one? Before, I mean? Before your mother passed away?’
‘Ha! Oh, Ellen,’ he said. ‘Your father really didn’t tell you anything, did he?’
‘No,’ I said quietly. ‘I did not even know he had a sister. Or that I had a cousin. All I know,’ I ventured, ‘is what Mary has told me since.’
‘And what is that?’ asked Jacob.
‘That my father and your mother had a falling out.’
Jacob began walking again and I gripped the crook of his elbow to keep pace with him. ‘My mother was a good woman, Ellen,’ he said. She was a friend of the poor, you know. Not long after I was born we were forced to move from London to a small village
.
Father was ill and Mother nursed him until he died. Then she carried on; nursing the sick, visiting the poor and cheering up the old and infirm. Not much of a life, was it? She should have had so much more. She
could
have had so much more.’ He paused. ‘So, no, Ellen. I never did live in a house like this one.’
He suddenly turned to me and took hold of both my hands. ‘Anyway,’ he said. ‘Enough of boring old me. It’s freezing out here! What do you say we go inside, get
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