Falling Angels. Tracy Chevalier
Lavinia kept dabbing at her eyes with a black-edged handkerchief, weeping as we passed the grave of a little boy dead fifty years. I just hope Maude doesn’t begin copying her. I can’t bear such nonsense. Maude is very sensible but I could see how attracted she was to the girl’s behaviour. They disappeared off together – Lord knows what they got up to. They came back the best of friends.
I think it highly unlikely Gertrude Waterhouse and I would ever be the best of friends. When she said yet again how sad it was about the Queen, I couldn’t help but comment that Lavinia seemed to be enjoying her mourning tremendously.
Gertrude Waterhouse said nothing for a moment, then remarked, ‘That’s a lovely dress. Such an unusual shade of blue.’
Richard snorted. We’d had a fierce argument about my dress. In truth I was now rather embarrassed about my choice – not one adult I’d seen since leaving the house was wearing anything but black. My dress was dark blue, but still I stood out far more than I’d intended.
I decided to be bold. ‘Yes, I didn’t think black quite the thing to wear for Queen Victoria,’ I explained. ‘Things are changing now. It will be different with her son. I’m sure Edward will make a fine king. He’s been waiting long enough.’
‘Too long, if you ask me,’ Mr Waterhouse said. ‘Poor chap, he’s past his prime.’ He looked abashed, as if surprised that he had voiced his opinion.
‘Not with the ladies, apparently,’ I said. I couldn’t resist.
‘Oh!’ Gertrude Waterhouse looked horrified.
‘For God’s sake, Kitty!’ Richard hissed. ‘My wife is always saying things she shouldn’t,’ he said apologetically to Albert Waterhouse, who chuckled uneasily.
‘Never mind, I’m sure she makes up for it in other ways,’ he said.
There was a silence as we all took in this remark. For one dizzy moment I wondered if he could possibly be referring to New Year’s Eve. But of course he would know nothing about that – that is not his set. I myself have tried hard not to think about it. Richard has not mentioned it since, but I feel now that I died a little death that night, and nothing will ever be quite the same, new King or no.
Then the girls returned, all out of breath, providing a welcome distraction. The Waterhouses quickly made their excuses and left, which I think everyone was relieved about except the girls. Lavinia grew tearful, and I feared Maude would too. Afterwards she wouldn’t stop talking about her new friend until at last I promised I would try to arrange for them to meet. I am hoping she will forget eventually, as the Waterhouses are just the kind of family who make me feel worse about myself.
I had an adventure at the cemetery today, with my new friend and a naughty boy. I’ve been to the cemetery many times before, but I’ve never been allowed out of Mama’s sight. Today, though, Mama and Papa met the family that owns the grave next to ours, and while they were talking about the things grown-ups go on about, Maude and I went off with Simon, the boy who works at the cemetery. We ran up the Egyptian Avenue and all around the vaults circling the cedar of Lebanon. It is so delicious there, I almost fainted from excitement.
Then Simon took us on a tour of the angels. He showed us a wonderful child-angel near the Terrace Catacombs. I had never seen it before. It wore a little tunic and had short wings, and its head was turned away from us as if it were angry and had just stamped its foot. It is so lovely I almost wished I had chosen it for our grave. But it was not in the book of angels at the mason’s yard. Anyway I am sure Mama and Papa agree that the one I chose for our grave is the best.
Simon took us to other angels close by and then he said he wanted to show us a grave he and his father had just dug. Well. I didn’t want to see it but Maude said she did and I didn’t want her to think I was afraid. So we went and looked down into it, and although it was frightening, I also got the strangest feeling that I wanted to lie down in that hole. Of course I didn’t do such a thing, not in my lovely dress.
Then as we turned to go a horrid man appeared. He had a very red face and bristles on his cheeks, and he smelled of drink. I couldn’t help but scream, even though I knew right away it was Simon’s father as they have the same blue eyes like pieces of sky. He began shouting terrible things at Simon about where had he been and why were we there, and he used the most awful words. Papa would whip us if Ivy May or I were to use such words. And Papa is not a whipping man. That’s how bad they were.
Then the man chased Simon round and round the grave until Simon jumped right into it! Well. I didn’t wait to see more – Maude and I ran like fury all the way down the hill. Maude wondered if we shouldn’t go back and see if Simon was all right but I refused, saying our parents would be worried about us. But really I didn’t want to see that man again, as he frightened me. The naughty boy can take care of himself. I am sure he spends much of his time down graves.
So Maude is my new friend, and I hers – though I do not see why such a plain girl should have a beautiful muff, and a nanny too, neither of which I have. And a beautiful mother with such a tiny waist and big dark eyes. I could not look at Mama without feeling a little ashamed. It is really so unfair.
Once we heard the news I lay awake all night, worrying about our clothes. Albert could wear his black work suit, with jet cufflinks and a black band for his hat. Mourning has always been easier for men. And Ivy May is too young for her clothes to be a concern.
But Livy and I were to be dressed properly for our Queen’s passing. For myself I did not mind so much what I wore, but Livy is so very particular, and difficult if she doesn’t get exactly what she wants. I do hate scenes with her – it is like being led in a dance where I know none of the steps and she all of them, so that I feel tripped up and foolish by the end. And yet she is only five years old! Albert says I am too soft with her, but then he bought her the angel she wanted for the grave when he knows how little money we have for that sort of thing, what with our saving to move house. Still, I can’t fault him for it. It is so important that the grave be a proper reflection of the family’s sentiments to our loved ones. Livy knows that very well, and she was right – the grave did need some attention, especially after that monstrous urn went up next to it.
I rose very early this morning and managed to find a bit of crape I had saved after my aunt’s mourning. I had hidden it away because I was meant to have burned it and knew Livy would be horrified to see it in the house. There was not enough of it to trim both our dresses, so I did hers, with a bit left over for my hat. By the time I had finished sewing, Livy was up, and she was so delighted with the effect of the crape that she didn’t ask where I’d got it from.
What with the little sleep and the waking early I was so tired by the time we reached the cemetery that I almost cried to see the blue silk Kitty Coleman was wearing. It was an affront to the eyes, like a peacock spreading its feathers at a funeral. It made me feel quite shabby and I was embarrassed even to stand next to her, as doing so begged comparisons and reminded me that my figure is not what it once was.
The one comfort I could take – and it is a shameful one that I shall ask God’s forgiveness for – was that her daughter Maude is so plain. I feel proud to see Livy look so well next to drab little Maude.
I was of course as civil as I could be, but it was clear that Kitty Coleman was bored with me. And then she made cutting remarks about Livy, and said disrespectful things – not exactly about the Queen, but I couldn’t help feeling that Victoria had in some way been slighted. And she made my poor Albert so tongue-tied he said something completely out of character. I could not bring myself even to ask him afterwards what he meant.
Never mind – she and I shall not have to see each