Chapter Eleven
‘I can’t believe it’s our last day at the academy,’ Lottie said, putting the last hairpin in Cassy’s coiffure and standing back to admire her handiwork. ‘If I don’t do well in medical school I might make a good lady’s maid.’ She clapped her hand over her mouth, meeting Cassy’s eyes in the flyblown mirror above the dormitory mantelshelf. ‘I’m sorry, Cass. I didn’t mean . . .’
Cassy turned to her with a smile. ‘It’s all right, Lottie. Nothing you could say would offend me or hurt my feelings. We’ve been friends for too long to let silly little slips of the tongue come between us.’
Lottie enveloped her in a hug. ‘You’ll always be my best friend, Cassy. In fact you’re more like a sister to me. I’ll really miss the times we spent together in the school holidays. Papa wants you to know that you’ll always have a home with us in Whitechapel, no matter what happens in the future.’
‘I know that, and I love your pa. He’s been the father I never knew and he couldn’t have been kinder to me.’ Cassy fumbled for her handkerchief. ‘There, I told myself I wouldn’t cry today.’ Half laughing, half crying, she blew her nose.
Lottie dashed a tear from her eyes. ‘Now you’ve started me off. Who would think that we’d be sad at leaving the North wind’s academy for young ladies? I’ve hated this wretched school for almost every minute of the years I’ve spent here.’
‘Well, today is definitely our last day. I just wish that Ma was here to see me get my diploma from Miss North.’ Cassy sighed and turned away to fasten the lock on the portmanteau from South Audley Street that was now battered and worn with constant use. Memories of that fatal day when Mahdu had died in her arms were still fresh and painful even after five years. She remembered screaming for help until the carriage came to a halt and the groom wrenched the door open. The coachman had climbed down from his perch on the box and had given his opinion in sonorous tones that there was no hope for the poor woman, but he added in a half-whisper that Sir Geoffrey would not welcome the return of a corpse. After an agitated discussion, the coachman and groom had decided to take Mahdu to the London Hospital as it was in Whitechapel close to their destination, and leave the doctors to deal with the situation. The coroner would need to be informed, the coachman had said, seeming determined to impress his underling with his worldly wisdom. There would have to be a death certificate signed by a doctor and an inquest. Cassy had barely understood anything that was being said. All she knew was that the woman she had always thought of as her mother was dead, but even more painful, Mahdu’s dying breath had been to renounce her as a daughter.
The coach had lumbered on through the heavy city traffic and Cassy had cradled Mahdu’s lifeless body in her arms even after they reached the entrance to Spectacle Alley where Mr Solomon had his small shop. She remembered how she had clung to Mahdu’s plump form, winding her small hands in her clothing so that her fingers had to be prised apart in order to make her let go. She had fought, scratching, screaming and begging to be allowed to stay with Ma, but strong arms had enfolded her and a merciful blackness had blotted out the terrible scene.
‘You’re daydreaming again, Cass.’
Lottie’s amused voice brought Cassy back to the present with a start. She forced her lips into a smile. ‘I’m almost ready to face the prize-giving.’
‘Papa will be here by now,’ Lottie said happily. ‘He will clap loudly for both of us, Cass.’
‘I know he will.’ Cassy made an effort to sound cheerful, but she struggled with the awful feeling of isolation that sometimes overwhelmed her. It was a forlorn and lonely place in which she found herself. All the other girls had families of some sort, even if it was an aged aunt or a distant cousin, but she was alone. No one teased her now or called her a chi-chi, but she was still painfully aware of being different. The desperate aching void left by Ma’s death was a private thing that only someone who had suffered a similar bereavement would understand. Even if Mahdu had spoken the truth and she was not her birth mother, Cassy drew some comfort from the fact that she had been loved dearly, but Mahdu’s untimely death had left the question unanswered. Who was her mother and, equally important, who was it who had fathered her? Why had her birth been hushed up and kept secret for all of her fifteen years? What secrets about her lineage might never come to light?
‘Lady Davenport might come,’ Beck said, as if sensing Cassy’s inner distress. ‘She visits you quite often.’
‘Yes, she has been good to me, and I wouldn’t be here without her charity. But she travels often with her husband, and maybe they are away now. I haven’t heard from her for some months.’
Lottie linked her hand through Cassy’s arm with an affectionate squeeze. ‘Never mind, you still have me and my pa. We’ll be friends forever, and when I’m a Harley Street doctor, the first woman to practise in London, you can be my companion and housekeeper.’
‘That would be one in the eye for Norah Vickery,’ Cassy said, chuckling. ‘Do you remember how she treated us when we were in our first year here?’
‘I’ll never forget the miserable bitch,’ Lottie said with feeling. ‘But darling Norah has hooked an earl, so I don’t think she’ll be very interested in us now. Come on, Cass. Let’s go down and face the North wind for the last time. I’d like to whack her over the head with her blooming diploma, but I promise I’ll behave.’
Laughing at the shared vision of Miss North’s ironclad self-control tested to the limits in such a ridiculous situation, Cassy and Lottie went downstairs arm in arm to the dining room where tables had been set aside and chairs lined in rows to accommodate the proud parents. Lottie spotted her father sitting on the far end of the back row and she blew him a kiss. Cassy stared straight ahead, not daring to hope that Lady Davenport might have found time in her busy social life to attend such a minor event.
‘Look, Cass,’ Lottie whispered, tugging at her sleeve. ‘There in the front row; I do believe that’s your grand lady.’
Holding her breath and hardly daring to hope, Cassy craned her neck to get a better view through a forest of large hats and bald pates. Her heart gave a little leap inside her chest as Lady Davenport seemed to sense her presence, turning her head to look directly at her and smiling.
‘Take your seats, and wait for your name to be called,’ Miss Stanhope said, pointing to where the other girls were sitting demurely with their hands folded in their laps.
‘Yes, Miss Stanhope.’ The response was automatic and both Cassy and Lottie obeyed her instructions, moving swiftly to sit at the end of the row. Cassy fixed her gaze upon Lady Davenport’s perfect profile beneath a confection of flowers, ribbons and lace that perched on top of her golden hair, coiled and piled high on her head. The soft curve of her cheek and the tenderness of her lips, parted slightly in a half-smile as she listened to the headmistress speaking at length, made her stand out amongst the other matrons as a vision of loveliness. Cassy was eager to speak to her patron but Miss North droned on and on about the achievement of her pupils, and the moral values that she had endeavoured to instil into girls who were now a credit to their school.
The parents and guardians listened politely but after ten minutes they began shifting slightly on their hard wooden seats, and shuffling their feet. When someone coughed there was a veritable chorus of throat clearing, with a couple of stifled sneezes thrown in for good measure.
At long last Miss North seemed to realise that she had lost the attention of her captive audience and she began calling the girls one by one to collect their diplomas.
By the time she reached Cassy, who was last on the list, Cassy barely had time to take the scroll from Miss North’s claw-like hand before the room erupted in a burst of noisy chatter as the girls were reunited with their families. Cassy threaded her way between groups of parents and daughters hugging and embracing each other and talking nineteen to the dozen. At first she could not see Lady Davenport and a feeling close to panic engulfed her. She felt suddenly like a small child who had lost her mother in a crowd. Perhaps Lady Davenport had decided not to linger, having stayed just long enough to see her protégée receive her diploma. Maybe Sir Geoffrey was waiting outside and they had already driven off in their carriage.
‘Cassy, my dear. Congratulations.’
Cassy spun round and came face to face with her mentor. Six years ago she would have been looking up at Lady Davenport, but now they were roughly the same height and she was looking into a pair of smiling blue eyes. ‘You came,’ she murmured.
‘Of course I did. I wouldn’t allow an important day like today to go unmarked, Cassy. You’ve done so well and I’m proud of you.’
The urge to hug Lady Davenport and kiss her scented cheek was almost too much for Cassy but somehow she managed to stop herself. She was suddenly tongue-tied and did not know what to say. She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and she clasped her hands behind her back, digging her fingernails into her palms to prevent herself from crying. So this was it. She had come to the end of her schooldays and this would almost certainly be the last time she would see Lady Davenport.
‘Why are you looking so sad,’ Belinda demanded, her smile fading. ‘Is something wrong, my dear?’
‘No. I mean, yes. I don’t know, my lady.’
‘Come with me, Cassy. It’s so noisy in here that I can’t hear myself think, let alone speak.’ Lady Davenport started making her way to the door which led out into the hall but she paused as Lottie pushed through the crowd calling Cassy’s name.
‘Cass, you can’t leave without saying goodbye.’
‘This must be your special friend, with whom you spend your holidays,’ Lady Davenport said, apparently unperturbed by the interruption. ‘Won’t you introduce us, Cassy dear?’
‘Yes, my lady.’ Cassy racked her brains in an attempt to recall something from one of Miss North’s interminable lessons on etiquette. ‘May I present Charlotte Solomon, ma’am.’
Lady Davenport embraced Lottie with a smile. ‘How do you do, Charlotte? I’m delighted to meet you at long last.’
Bobbing a rather wobbly curtsey, Lottie glanced anxiously over her shoulder as her father barged his way between rows of empty chairs, knocking one over in his haste to join them, but once again Lady Davenport took matters in her stride. She turned to him holding out her hand. ‘You must be Charlotte’s father. I’ve never been able to thank you for your kindness to Cassy, but I do so now with all my heart.’
Eli Solomon peered myopically through the thick lenses of his spectacles and his lined face broke into a wide smile as he took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘I’m honoured to meet you, my lady. Cassy has always spoken of you with great affection.’
Lottie nudged Cassy in the ribs. ‘She’s so beautiful, Cass. You didn’t do her justice.’
‘I know,’ Cassy said, relaxing for the first time since she had received her diploma. ‘She’s an angel. I’ve always told you that.’
‘I hope one day to be able to repay your kindness to Cassy,’ Lady Davenport said with obvious sincerity. ‘If I were to send an invitation for you to take tea with us one day, I hope you would be in a position to accept.’
Cassy could only think that Lady Davenport was being gracious, and that Mr Solomon would accept out of politeness knowing that such an event was unlikely to happen. But a quick glance in his direction revealed a man struck almost dumb by Lady Davenport’s charm and beauty. He was smiling broadly, exposing great gaps between his teeth, and nodding his head.
‘Come along, Papa,’ Lottie said, taking him by the arm. ‘I think we should go now.’ She raised her hand to pat Cassy on the shoulder. ‘We’ll wait for you outside, Cass.’
‘Do by all means,’ Lady Davenport said, acknowledging Eli’s constant nodding with a slight inclination of her head and a smile. ‘But Cassy will be coming home with me today. However, that doesn’t mean to say that she cannot visit you in Whitechapel whenever she wants.’
‘Thank you, my lady,’ Eli murmured, gazing at her as if he could not bear to look away.
‘Come, Papa,’ Lottie said firmly, giving Cassy a meaningful glance as she led him away. ‘I’ll see you in a minute, Cass.’
Cassy turned to her mentor with a puzzled frown. ‘Am I to go with you, my lady?’
‘I would have come to see you sooner, but for matters beyond my control. However, if you are agreeable I would like you to be my personal maidservant. It’s what I planned all along, and something that I know would please Mahdu, God rest her soul. I miss her very much, Cassy. She was an important part of my life, and yours too.’
Cassy could hold back no longer. ‘She said she wasn’t my mother.’
Lady Davenport’s eyes clouded and her sunny smile faded. ‘My carriage is waiting outside. We can speak more freely there. I’ve instructed Potter to fetch your luggage.’ She hurried from the dining hall and Cassy was left with no other option than to follow her. She found Lottie waiting on the pavement outside while her father attempted to hail a passing hansom cab.
‘Is everything all right?’ Lottie asked anxiously.
‘I think so. I’m to be her maid. It’s more than I could have hoped for.’ Cassy gave her a quick hug. ‘I have to go now but I’ll try to keep in touch.’
‘You know where we live,’ Lottie called after her as Cassy quickened her pace in order to keep up with Lady Davenport, who by this time had almost reached the carriage which was waiting a little way down the hill. Potter leapt off the box to open the door.