‘Are you going off home, Hackett?’ Caitlin didn’t look up at him as he spoke, but just focused on his sleeve.
‘I-I-I am… I am now,’ Hackett stuttered in his monotone voice.
‘Well, I guess I won’t see you, so can I wish you happy New Year now?’
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing again, this strange exchange between the gardener and Mrs Clemonte’s granddaughter. I wanted to ask Caitlin what this was all about; did she have some sort of crush on Hackett, or was it just another pointless game she was playing with him? Was she trying to prove something to me? Was it some sort of power trip? But I also knew that I would never ask her. It would just be added to the many other things about Caitlin that I had yet to figure out and probably never would. In all the time I had lived at Saxby, I had only actually spent nine of those weeks with Caitlin, I didn’t feel as if our friendship had reached the point where I could ask her something so personal.
Nine weeks was nothing really, but I felt like I had always known her, because how could someone who exhibited themselves in the way that Caitlin did have possibly existed all this time without me ever knowing her?
‘Wish… happy New Year. I forget how?’ Hackett had that confused expression across his face again.
‘Well, we can shake hands, we can hug, or kiss. On both cheeks though.’ Caitlin carried on the conversation as though I wasn’t there.
I watched as Hackett bent down a little and Caitlin went in for a light peck on both cheeks. Then, she turned away from him, grabbed my hand and began a light skip, which I had to echo in order to fall into step with her. It was as though none of it had happened.
‘What’s wrong with Hackett?’ I asked when we were back in the courtyard, our cheeks flushed from the cold.
‘What’s wrong with him?’ Caitlin pulled off her gloves and shoved them in her pocket. ‘There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s the most normal person here.’
Caitlin went to walk in through the back door and I followed. She turned suddenly and looked at me. ‘Where are you going?’
I stood still and looked at her. ‘I’m coming in with you.’ I was thinking about the mug of hot chocolate that Judith had promised me. I was also keen to see her preparations for the dinner this evening. There was talk of a soufflé for starters, and I had never eaten soufflé before.
‘I’m going to have a lie-down. Then I promised Chuck a game of chess. Could you come over at six? Wear something, you know, suitable. You have a dress or something, don’t you?’
I stood rooted to the spot. My eyes were stinging with tears, which I could put down to the cold if Caitlin happened to notice. Which she did not. But I tried desperately to hold them back anyway, even though it felt hard to breathe. I knew I should have felt lucky I had been invited for a New Year’s dinner, but the stab of disappointment in my gut was hard to ignore. I thought about what I would do from now until six and tried not think about why Caitlin needed to have ‘a lie down’ at three in the afternoon. Then there was the issue of a dress. I didn’t have one. I hadn’t owned a dress since I was seven, and it would be too late to get to the shops now. I would disappoint everyone by turning up in something completely unsuitable. I didn’t think I would be able to go, and I wanted so desperately to go to the New Year’s Eve dinner. To sit and be treated like one of the grown-ups, laugh with Chuck and try, just as Caitlin had suggested, to sip some champagne. Being with the Clemontes and their friends, I felt like a different version of myself. A better version. I wanted to feel a part of it more and more.
I pushed away the tsunami of emotions, told myself to pull it together.
‘A dress. Yes.’ I gulped.
‘Great. Don’t be late.’ Caitlin turned and skipped back into the house, and I stood and watched her for a few seconds before turning and heading back to the cottage. As I half ran, half skipped back home, I felt hot tears slide down my frozen cheeks.
‘A dress, a dress. Of course, why didn’t I think about a bleedin’ dress, I’m so stupid.’
Mum was in the kitchen chopping up carrots, onions and turnips for a stew for their tea. There was a packet of butterscotch Angel Delight on the side and three bananas. I felt bad that I was going to be eating four courses and drinking champagne at the main house whilst Mum, Dad and Hunter would be having vegetable stew and Angel Delight.
I stood and looked at Mum slightly forlorn. ‘Don’t you worry, pet, I’ll have you sorted. You shall go to the ball!’ She danced a lap around me, waving an invisible wand, and then raced upstairs.
She was back down in minutes with a long black dress I had never seen before. It had short sleeves with a frill along the
