‘Out looking for work. She’s gone tostay with Lucy in Eastbourne for a few days to see if there’s anythingthere. Poor girl’s been out each and every day, looking. She’s evenresorted to doing laundry.’
‘Oh,’ Mary said. Lucy was an oldchildhood friend with whom Edie had fallen out years ago. Things musthave become desperate for Edie to seek help from her.
As she watched her elder sister placingdishes into the sink to be washed, Mary realised her uneasiness at being home:it wasn’t the temperature, her mother’s or Edie’s absence, or her father’smelancholia, it was the haunting return of Caroline. Mary could stillrecall, with great clarity, the day that Caroline left home to be married toWilliam. The house immediately felt bigger and lighter for the lack ofher oppression. Their father acted like he ran the Mercer household butin reality it had always been Caroline’s domineering presence that dictated themood of the house. Mary had a sudden urge to see her ailing mother. ‘Can I go to the sanatorium and see her?’ she asked Caroline.
‘Absolutely not. She’s confined toher bed and needs rest. If she pulls through, you can see her back home.’
Am I really to blame for allthis? Mary asked herself. Surely she couldn’t be held responsible forher mother’s tuberculosis and her father’s melancholia? ‘I might as wellleave, then,’ Mary said, genuine in her words.
‘Yes, you might as well,’ Caroline said,keeping her back to Mary. ‘Make sure you come back on your next halfday’s leave and bring your wages.’
Just like the previous two occasions, Maryleft the Mercer household with tears rolling down her face and a horriblenauseous feeling writhing in her stomach. As she hurried down the backpath to Blackfriars, the only thought which could assuage her fatigued mind wasthat of Edward.
Maryread the note over and over again, the wonderful, delicious words becomingengrained on her memory. I love you, Mary Mercer! There, I saidit. You’re all I think about, Mary! I just want to be with youevery minute of every day. Edward x. She had found the noteunder her pillow when she had returned to her room. She lay on her bed,the note resting on her breasts, rising and falling with each breath. Inthe eerie light of a fading, solitary candle beside her bed, she wordlesslymouthed the words, I love you, Mary Mercer, just in case Clara was notyet asleep. Mary was in love and the best thing of all, he loved her inreturn. The love she felt for Edward thwarted the silly, childishfeelings she had held for Cecil. She knew now, with absolute clarity,that her feelings towards him were nothing more than an immature crush. The note had dried the tears and subdued the pain caused by the afternoon athome. Thinking of Caroline made her teeth clench and a bilious feelingsurge through her body. She wondered what had made Caroline into such anasty, bitter person and was grateful for her closeness to Edie growingup. Although maybe now it seemed that bond was broken, too. Thetwins had never been separated for so long before and Mary hated it. Sheleant onto her side, pulled open her drawer and removed the silver locket. For a few moments, Mary held it above her and watched as it gently swayed fromside to side. Finally, she undid the clasp and placed it around herneck. Now you’re close to me, Edie, she thought. Edie andEdward were both resting on her heart. Mary smiled and fell asleepwithout tears for the first time since she had started at Blackfriars.
Marywas elated to hear the breakfast bell sounding. Having achieved the firstchores of the day, she hurried downstairs, eager to see Edward for the firsttime since he had left his love note to her. She had repeated it so manytimes that she knew it off by heart. When she thought about those fewprecious words, they replayed in her mind in Edward’s beautiful voice.
There was an unusual bubbling ofconversation filtering from the servants’ hall as Mary approached. As sheentered the room to take her seat, she noticed that Mrs Cuff and Mr Risler werenot yet at the table. She suddenly became aware that the eyes of theother servants had fallen upon her and the level of conversation had suddenlydropped. Her cheeks flushing red, Mary sat opposite Joan, keeping hereyes firmly on the table in front of her. In time, as the noise levelrose, she dared to look across to Edward. His face crimson, he tried tosmile reassuringly, but something in his eyes told Mary that all was not quiteright or usual.
‘Ah, ain’t that sweet,’ Joan said, muchmore loudly than she had ever spoken to Mary at the dinner table.
Mary flushed again, sensing that the otherservants had somehow found out about her and Edward. Had he told them? She looked again at Edward but his gaze was fixed firmly to the floor.
‘I love you, Mary Mercer!’ Joan roared,standing from the table. Mary slumped in her seat as Joan continued herdramatic performance. ‘There, I said it.’
‘Joan!’ Eliza called. ‘Stop it!’
A male servant, whose voice she did notrecognise, joined the agonising display. ‘You’re all I think about,Mary!’
‘What is the meaning of all this noise?’Mr Risler bellowed, suddenly appearing in the room with Mrs Cuff at hisheel. ‘Joan Leigh, sit down at once.’
Joan sheepishly returned to the table.
Mary glowered at Clara, her JudasIscariot, her whole body tensed with anger and betrayal.
‘I don’t know what’s been going on inhere,’ Mr Risler ranted, ‘but I could hear what can only be described as anunholy cacophony coming from this room. I sincerely hope that thehousehold were spared hearing it. This will not happenagain. Is that clear?’
A general murmur of agreement rose fromthe rebuked servants.
‘Before we begin breakfast,’ Mr Rislerbellowed, ‘I have just been informed that Lord Rothborne’s cousin, FrederickMansfield, will soon be paying the family a visit.’
There was a low, almost imperceptiblegroan from around the table at the mention of Frederick’s name. Marylooked around the room,
