he’s the tallest, and I’m playing God.’
‘Can’t I be God?’
‘Certainly not. I thought you wanted the main part.’
‘I did,’ Emmeline said. ‘I do.’
‘Well then. God doesn’t even get to be on stage,’ Hannah said. ‘I have to do my lines from behind a curtain.’
‘I could play Moses,’ Emmeline said. ‘Raverley can be Miriam.’
‘You’re not playing Moses,’ Hannah said. ‘We need a real Miriam. She’s far more important than Moses. He only has one line. That’s why Raverley’s standing in. I can say his line from behind my curtain-I may even cut Moses altogether.’
‘Perhaps we could do another scene instead,’ Emmeline said hopefully. ‘One with Mary and the baby Jesus?’
Hannah huffed disgustedly.
They were rehearsing a play. Alfred the footman had told me there was to be a family recital on the bank holiday weekend. It was a tradition: some family members sang, others recited poetry, the children always performed a scene from their grandmother’s favourite book.
‘We’ve chosen this scene because it’s important,’ said Hannah.
‘
‘Exactly,’ said Hannah. ‘It’s about a father having two sets of rules: one for his sons and one for his daughters.’
‘Sounds perfectly reasonable to me,’ said David ironically.
Hannah ignored him. ‘Both Miriam and Aaron are guilty of the same thing: discussing their brother’s marriage-’
‘What were they saying?’ Emmeline said.
‘It’s not important, they were just-’
‘Were they saying mean things?’
‘No, and it’s not the point. The important thing is that God decides Miriam should be punished with leprosy while Aaron gets no worse than a talking-to. Does that sound fair to you, Emme?’
‘Didn’t Moses marry an African woman?’ Emmeline said.
Hannah shook her head, exasperated. She did that a lot, I noticed. A fierce energy infused her every long-limbed movement, led her easily to frustration. Emmeline, by contrast, had the calculated posture of a doll come to life. Their features, similar when considered individually-two slightly aquiline noses, two pairs of intense blue eyes, two pretty mouths-manifested themselves uniquely on each girl’s face. Where Hannah gave the impression of a fairy queen-passionate, mysterious, compelling-Emmeline’s was a more accessible beauty. Though still a child, there was something in the way her lips parted in repose, her too-wide-open eyes, that reminded me of a glamour photograph I had once seen when it fell from the peddler’s pocket.
‘Well? He did, didn’t he?’ Emmeline said.
‘Yes, Emme,’ David said, laughing. ‘Moses married an Ethiopian. Hannah’s just frustrated that we don’t share her passion for women’s suffrage.’
‘Hannah! He doesn’t mean it. You’re not a suffragette. Are you?’
‘Of course I am,’ Hannah said. ‘And so are you.’
Emmeline lowered her voice. ‘Does Pa know? He’ll be ever so cross.’
‘Pooh,’ said Hannah. ‘Pa’s a kitten.’
‘A lion, more like,’ said Emmeline, lips trembling. ‘Please don’t make him cross, Hannah.’
‘I shouldn’t worry, Emme,’ said David. ‘Suffrage is all the fashion amongst society women at the moment.’
Emmeline looked doubtful. ‘Fanny never said anything.’
‘Anyone who’s anyone will be wearing a dinner suit for her debut this season,’ said David.
Emmeline’s eyes widened.
I listened from the bookshelves, wondering what it all meant. I had never heard the word ‘suffragette’ before, but had a vague idea it might be a sort of illness, the likes of which Mrs Nammersmith in the village had caught when she took her corset off at the Easter parade, and her husband had to take her to the hospital in London.
‘You’re a wicked tease,’ Hannah said. ‘Just because Pa is too unfair to let Emmeline and me go to school doesn’t mean you should try to make us look stupid at every opportunity.’
‘I don’t have to try,’ David said, sitting on the toy box and flicking a lock of hair from his eyes. I drew breath: he was beautiful and golden like his sisters. ‘Anyway, you’re not missing much. School’s overrated.’
‘Oh?’ Hannah raised a suspicious eyebrow. ‘Usually you’re only too pleased to let me know exactly what I’m missing. Why the sudden change of heart?’ Her eyes widened: two ice- blue moons. Excitement laced her voice. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve done something dreadful to get yourself expelled?’
‘Course not,’ David said quickly. ‘I just think there’s more to life than book-learning. My friend Hunter says that life itself is the best education-’
‘Hunter?’
‘He only started at Eton this form. His father’s some sort of scientist. Evidently he discovered something that turned out to be quite important and the King made him a marquis. He’s a bit mad. Robert, too, if you believe the other lads, but I think he’s topping.’
‘Well,’ Hannah said, ‘your mad Robert Hunter is fortunate to have the luxury of disdaining his education; but how am I supposed to become a respected playwright if Pa insists on keeping me ignorant?’ Hannah sighed with frustration. ‘I wish I were a boy.’
‘I should hate to go to school,’ Emmeline said. ‘And I should hate to be a boy. No dresses, the most boring hats, having to talk about sports and politics all day.’
‘I’d love to talk politics,’ Hannah said. Vehemence shook strands loose from the careful confinement of her ringlets. ‘I’d start by making Herbert Asquith give women the vote. Even young ones.’
David smiled. ‘You could be Great Britain’s first play-writing prime minister.’
‘Yes,’ said Hannah.
‘I thought you were going to be an archaeologist,’ Emmeline said. ‘Like Gertrude Bell.’
‘Politician, archaeologist. I could be both. This is the twentieth century.’ She scowled. ‘If only Pa would let me have a proper education.’
‘You know what Pa says about girls’ education,’ said David. Emmeline chimed in with the well-worn phrase: ‘“The slippery slope to women’s suffrage.”’
‘Anyway, Pa says Miss Prince is giving us all the education we need,’ said Emmeline.
‘Pa would say that. He’s hoping she’ll turn us into boring wives for boring fellows, speaking passable French, playing passable piano and politely losing the odd game of bridge. We’ll be less trouble that way.’
‘Pa says no one likes a woman who thinks too much,’ Emmeline said.
David rolled his eyes. ‘Like that Canadian woman who drove him home from the gold mines with her talk of politics. She did us all a disservice.’
