with you, stopped you playing on the rocks.’ She paused; she had not asked Diana just how the accident had occurred, but now realised she should do so. ‘What exactly did happen, queen?’ she asked, rather apprehensively. ‘I know it were an accident, but I don’t quite know how you fell in.’
‘Oh, I were followin’ Charlie out along the rocks,’ Diana said readily. ‘He telled me not to, Mammy, but I like to go where he goes, so I followed. The sea was up round the rocks an’ I trod on a patch of weed and went straight in where there were a deep pool. Charlie must’ve seen me go, ’cos he grabbed the neck o’ me dress an’ pulled me out an’ said as we shouldn’t worry you. Only as soon as you saw me, you knew I’d fell in, didn’t you? But it weren’t Charlie’s fault,’ she ended hastily. ‘He’s the best boy I know, is Charlie, and the bravest one too.’
‘I see,’ Emmy said, nodding slowly. She did see. Her small daughter had always admired Charlie, wanting to do everything that Charlie did, so perhaps the near drowning would be a lesson to her. She said impressively: ‘But it’s time you got some sense, sweetheart. Little girls of five can’t possibly do as much as big boys of eight, and boys were made by God to be stronger than girls, because when they grow up they have to do hard, difficult things, like your daddy does. When girls grow up, they do gentle things, like your mammy does. So you see, if you try to imitate Charlie, you’ll end up getting hurt again, and I wouldn’t want that.’
There was a long moment of silence whilst Diana obviously considered her mother’s remarks, and when she spoke, it was thoughtfully. ‘But Aunty Beryldoes hard things, an’ she’s a lady like you,’ she observed. ‘And Lucy does hard things, too. They scrub floors and black grates, and light fires, and cook meals . . .’
Emmy sighed. Reasoning with Diana was clearly not going to be easy. In fact, perhaps it was a mistake to try. Instead, she said firmly, ‘Never mind all that. Just don’t try to do what Charlie does and don’t tell your daddy you fell in the sea. Is that clear?’
‘Why not?’ Diana’s voice had the dreamy note of one who is almost asleep, but Emmy found she was tired of answering questions and trying to be tactful.
‘Because I say not,’ she snapped. ‘And what I say goes, understand?’
Diana giggled. ‘I weren’t goin’ to tell Daddy anything, anyway,’ she murmured.
Emmy could see that the tram was nearing the stop. She slid Diana off her lap, picked up her basket, and, holding the child’s hand in a firm grasp, joined the line of people about to descend. ‘Good girl,’ she said, as the two of them descended from the tram at the corner of Arundel Avenue and began to walk towards Lancaster Avenue. She realised there was little point in discussing the matter further tonight but decided that she would go over it again in the morning.
Later, when Diana was tucked up in bed and fast asleep, Emmy ran herself a warm bath and climbed, thankfully, into the tub. A proper bathroom was an undreamed-of luxury for people who lived in Nightingale Court, but after more than five years of living in the Avenue, Emmy took it for granted. Yet now, as she soaked in the warm water, letting her aches and pains dissolve along the way, Emmyrealised all over again how very fortunate she was. She had a wonderful husband who gave her everything she could want, a beautiful home and a delightful daughter. It was a pity that she could not talk freely to Peter about her friends in Nightingale Court, but that was probably her own fault. She should have insisted that he go with her to her old home. Because his times ashore were usually short, he avoided such meetings, but on this occasion she would tell him that he really must accompany her to Nightingale Court to meet the Fishers. He would both like and approve of them, would admire their sturdily independent children, and then
‘Oh, I were followin’ Charlie out along the rocks,’ Diana said readily. ‘He telled me not to, Mammy, but I like to go where he goes, so I followed. The sea was up round the rocks an’ I trod on a patch of weed and went straight in where there were a deep pool. Charlie must’ve seen me go, ’cos he grabbed the neck o’ me dress an’ pulled me out an’ said as we shouldn’t worry you. Only as soon as you saw me, you knew I’d fell in, didn’t you? But it weren’t Charlie’s fault,’ she ended hastily. ‘He’s the best boy I know, is Charlie, and the bravest one too.’
‘I see,’ Emmy said, nodding slowly. She did see. Her small daughter had always admired Charlie, wanting to do everything that Charlie did, so perhaps the near drowning would be a lesson to her. She said impressively: ‘But it’s time you got some sense, sweetheart. Little girls of five can’t possibly do as much as big boys of eight, and boys were made by God to be stronger than girls, because when they grow up they have to do hard, difficult things, like your daddy does. When girls grow up, they do gentle things, like your mammy does. So you see, if you try to imitate Charlie, you’ll end up getting hurt again, and I wouldn’t want that.’
There was a long moment of silence whilst Diana obviously considered her mother’s remarks, and when she spoke, it was thoughtfully. ‘But Aunty Beryldoes hard things, an’ she’s a lady like you,’ she observed. ‘And Lucy does hard things, too. They scrub floors and black grates, and light fires, and cook meals . . .’
Emmy sighed. Reasoning with Diana was clearly not going to be easy. In fact, perhaps it was a mistake to try. Instead, she said firmly, ‘Never mind all that. Just don’t try to do what Charlie does and don’t tell your daddy you fell in the sea. Is that clear?’
‘Why not?’ Diana’s voice had the dreamy note of one who is almost asleep, but Emmy found she was tired of answering questions and trying to be tactful.
‘Because I say not,’ she snapped. ‘And what I say goes, understand?’
Diana giggled. ‘I weren’t goin’ to tell Daddy anything, anyway,’ she murmured.
Emmy could see that the tram was nearing the stop. She slid Diana off her lap, picked up her basket, and, holding the child’s hand in a firm grasp, joined the line of people about to descend. ‘Good girl,’ she said, as the two of them descended from the tram at the corner of Arundel Avenue and began to walk towards Lancaster Avenue. She realised there was little point in discussing the matter further tonight but decided that she would go over it again in the morning.
Later, when Diana was tucked up in bed and fast asleep, Emmy ran herself a warm bath and climbed, thankfully, into the tub. A proper bathroom was an undreamed-of luxury for people who lived in Nightingale Court, but after more than five years of living in the Avenue, Emmy took it for granted. Yet now, as she soaked in the warm water, letting her aches and pains dissolve along the way, Emmyrealised all over again how very fortunate she was. She had a wonderful husband who gave her everything she could want, a beautiful home and a delightful daughter. It was a pity that she could not talk freely to Peter about her friends in Nightingale Court, but that was probably her own fault. She should have insisted that he go with her to her old home. Because his times ashore were usually short, he avoided such meetings, but on this occasion she would tell him that he really must accompany her to Nightingale Court to meet the Fishers. He would both like and approve of them, would admire their sturdily independent children, and then
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