I studied this page without really taking it in. Only when I turned the pages of the catalogue and read the list of specimens, each of which I could picture and name where it had been found, did I begin to understand. He was selling it, every last cury I had worked so hard to add to his collection just for the satisfaction of knowing he would be handling it. All the pentacrinites he loved so, the ammos and parts of lobsters, the fish I should really have given to Elizabeth Philpot, the strange crustaceous insect I had never seen before and would have studied more carefully with the Philpots' magnifying glass, but that he wanted it. All the fragments of ichies, jaws and teeth and eye sockets and verteberries, all about to be scattered.
And of course the ichie, the most perfect specimen I'd ever seen, that I'd stayed up night after night to finish cleaning and mounting the very best I could. I did it all for him, and now he was going to sell it, just like Lord Henley sold my first ichie. And Mr Bullock was in the middle of it again. My head buzzed so that I thought it would explode.
I held the catalogue tight in my hands, wanting to rip it apart. I would have done so if it had been sent to me rather than Joe. I would have torn it all apart and thrown it in the fire, catalogue and letter alike.
The letter. I had not read it yet. I had such an ache behind my eyes I weren't sure I could read anything now. But I unfolded it, smoothed it out, rubbed my eyes, and let them rest on his words. Then I begun to read.
When I finished, my throat was that tight I couldn't swallow, and I'd gone hot in the face like I'd run all the way up Broad Street. By the time Mam and Joe come in, I was sobbing so hard my heart was sure to come out of my mouth.
There were three coaches a week from London, and each one brought me another piece of the puzzle of what had gone on there.
The newspaper account arrived first. Normally there was no money for newspapers, but Mam come home with one. 'We has to find out if we can afford this newspaper,' was her logic. I could hardly turn the pages, my hands were trembling so.
On page three I found the following notice and read it out to Mam and Joe:An auction yesterday by Mr. Bullock at his Egyptian Hall on Piccadilly of the fossil collection of Lt.-
Col. Thomas Birch, late of the Life Guards, has raised in excess of PS400. The collection included a fine and rare specimen of the ichthyosaurus, which was sold to the Royal College of Surgeons for PS100. Lt.-Col. Birch announced that the funds raised would be given to the Anning family of Lyme Regis, who helped him to assemble the collection.
It was brief, but it was enough. To see it in print like that made my hands go cold.
Mam was usually cautious with money, making no plans for it until she held it in her hands. Seeing word of it in the newspaper, though, was as good as proof to her that it was coming, and she begun discussing with Joe what to do with it. 'We'll pay off our debts,' Joe said. 'Then we'll think about buying a house further uphill, away from the floods.' Cockmoile Square was regularly flooded, by the river or the sea.
'I'm in no hurry to move,' Mam replied, 'but we do need new furniture. And then you'll need money to set up a proper upholstery business.' They talked on and on, with plans they'd never dared to dream of a week ago, relaxing in the luxury of being able to fart in the face of the workhouse, as Mam put it. It was comical how quick they went from being poor to thinking rich. I didn't say anything as they talked, nor did they expect me to. We all knew we were getting the money because of me. I had done my part, and it were like I was a queen and could sit back and let my courtiers arrange things.
I didn't want to talk anyway, for I could not put my head to plans. All I wanted was to run off to the cliffs to be alone and think of Colonel Birch and what his actions meant. I wanted to relive the kiss he gave me, and go over every feature of his face, and recall his voice, and all the things he said to me, and all the ways he looked at me, and all the days we spent together. That is what I wanted to do, sitting at our only table. Not for long, it seemed--if Mam had her way we'd be buying a mahogany dining set to rival Lord Henley's.
I got out the locket and begun to wear it again, under my clothes. I didn't want to talk about Colonel Birch to Mam or Joe, for I didn't know his intentions towards me. He'd not said in the letter, which was after all addressed to Joe as man of the family, and so was formal rather than loving. He wanted to do things proper. But what man would give a family four hundred pounds and not have real intentions?
When the next coach come from London I was at Charmouth, waiting for it. I'd begun to go upon beach again, to hunt curies. When the coach were due I went up the lane to meet it, even though I'd said nothing to Mam or Joe about going, and hadn't even thought through what I would do when I saw Colonel Birch. I just went, and sat outside the Queen's Arms, where others were waiting as well, to meet passengers or take the coach on to Exeter. I got funny looks, which was nothing new, except instead of sneers there was wonder and respect, which I hadn't felt since first discovering the ichthyosaurus. The news of our fortune had spread.
When the coach appeared, my stomach flip-flopped like a fish in the bottom of a boat. It seemed to take a year to drive up the long hill through the village. When at last it stopped and the door opened, I closed my eyes and tried to calm my heart, which had joined my stomach--two fish now flopping.
Then Margaret Philpot stepped down, and then Miss Louise, and finally Miss Elizabeth. I had not expected the Philpots. Normally Miss Elizabeth wrote to tell me which coach they would be on, but I'd had no letter. I did wonder if Colonel Birch might come out as well, but I knew Miss Elizabeth would never ride in the same coach as him.
I was never so disappointed as at that moment.
