Emily's Dream (3 page)

Dede sat in a straight-backed chair by the side window, needlework resting in her lap. On the plush rounded chairs on either side of the fireplace sat a man and a woman Emily didn't recognize.

Dede gave Emily a disapproving look, and Emily remembered too late that her hair had come loose from its ribbon.

“Emily,” Dede said, keeping her voice pleasant. “This is Mr. and Mrs. Piddington from England. They'll be staying with us for awhile.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Emily said, giving them the polite smile and small curtsy Dede expected.

“What a charming young girl,” said the woman, who held a white lace handkerchief near her thin pinched-looking face as if she expected she might need to protect her nose from a bad smell at any moment. Her eyes flicked to her husband's with a look that suggested her real opinion of Emily was the opposite of her words.

“Indeed,” the man said, giving Emily only a glance. His dark hair was combed slickly to one side, and he had a long face exaggerated by long sideburns. He reached for a cookie from a plate on the small table beside him and poked the top one aside as if he thought a better one might be hiding behind it. Then he took his hand away, looking down his long nose as if none of the cookies met with his approval.

“This is the Piddingtons' first visit to our city,” Dede went on as though she had not noticed Mr. Piddington's rudeness.

“Yes,” Mrs. Piddington said with her phony smile. “Your city is even smaller and more charming than I expected.”

Her words sounded like a compliment, but
they felt more like an insult to Emily. What Mrs. Piddington really seemed to be saying was that she thought Victoria was much too small and insignificant. Emily suspected that “charming” was a word Mrs. Piddington used for anything she thought unsophisticated and inferior. The answering look in Mr. Piddington's eyes seemed to agree.

“I hope you will excuse me for a few minutes,” Dede said as she got up from her chair, setting her needlework aside. “I must attend to the supper.”

“Emily,” she added. “Go upstairs and change, then come down and see if our guests need anything.”

Emily followed Dede out the door. She made as if to head right up the stairs but turned back once Dede had disappeared into the kitchen. She pressed her ear to the drawing room door.

“You'd think they'd have at least one house servant,” Mr. Piddington's nasal voice said with a note of disgust.

“Imagine dear Dede and the younger sisters having to prepare all the meals themselves.”
Mrs. Piddington's voice dripped with phony sympathy. “It must be such a lot of work looking after a house without servants.” She said the word “work” with distaste.

“There is little else to occupy them here, I am sure,” Mr. Piddington pointed out, sounding bored.

A chair creaked as if one of them might be getting up, and Emily pulled away from the door. Quickly, she walked up the stairs, keeping her feet quiet. Her hands were balled into angry fists at her sides. She definitely did not like the Piddingtons.

 5 
Not Like London

“Do you always dine this early?” Mr. Pidding-ton asked, sitting at one end of the long dining room table. He did not sit up straight but stuck his long legs out to one side and leaned back in his chair as if he were lounging. It seemed disrespectful to Emily–as if he did not think their dining room worthy of his whole attention or manners. She resented that he had been given Father's old place at the table.

“In London, one never sits down to supper before nine or ten,” explained Mrs. Piddington as she delicately arranged her napkin on her lap.

“This isn't London,” Emily snapped. Dede gave her a warning look across the table.

“Of that, we are very much aware,” drawled Mr. Piddington.

“May I interest you in some roast, Mr. Piddington?” Alice interjected, standing to serve him. Alice was always the peacemaker.

“I've taken the liberty of hiring a cab for tomorrow,” Dede said, changing the subject. “I thought you might enjoy a turn around Beacon Hill Park and a drive along the ocean. Some spring flowers should be in bloom now.”

“Aren't you a dear,” Mrs. Piddington said, her voice oversweet. “I'm sure that would be lovely.”

Emily turned to Dick, who sat beside her, and held her napkin up to her face so that only he could see her gagging expression. He laughed, and Dede gave the two of them a quick, suspicious look.

“I need a cab for tonight as well,” Mr. Piddington announced. “Seeing as how we'll be finished eating so early, I might as well go out.”

“Oh.” Alice looked flustered, but Dede was calm as ever.

“I'm afraid we don't have a horse of our own, and it's too late to order a cab now,” she explained.

“Too late?” Mr. Piddington sounded as if he didn't believe Dede. “But it's not even seven.”

Emily thought she detected a flicker of annoyance cross Dede's face, but Dede hesitated for only a moment.

“I could send Emily and Dick into town,” she said.

“Oh, that's right,” Mr. Piddington said. “I'd forgotten you have no servants.”

“Yes,” Dede said, her voice thin. “We thought it best to manage on our own after our father's death.”

“Idle hands are free for the devil's work,” Lizzie put in, as if this explained everything.

“You'll find this is a modest home, Mr. Piddington,” Dede continued. “I apologize if it is not what you are accustomed to, but we find it suits us well.”

“And we do appreciate your hospitality,” Mrs. Piddington said loudly. “I was just saying to Mr. Piddington how charming your home is and how delighted we are in your company.”

Emily met Dick's eyes. He too seemed to see through Mrs. Piddington's false compliments.

After dinner was over, Dede insisted that Emily and Dick be sent to hire a cab for Mr. Piddington. Mr. Piddington offered no objection despite his wife's assurances that the Carr's “charming quiet lifestyle” was just what the two of them needed at the moment and that they hated to put anyone to any extra work.

Emily and Dick walked along the darkening road toward town, glad to be out of the house and away from the guests, but resentful at being sent on an errand for Mr. Piddington.

“How
charming
you simple and dull Victorians are.” Emily mimicked Mrs. Piddington's shrill honeyed voice, waving her hand as though she held one of Mrs. Piddington's lace handkerchiefs.

“Yes, your dull quiet lifestyle suits us fine,” Dick said, deepening his voice to imitate Mr. Piddington. “But send me a servant! Send me a cab! Lick my boots!”

Emily broke into laughter, staggering against Dick for a moment. Dick tried to keep his head up so he could continue looking down his nose at her the way Mr. Piddington did, but he was overcome by giggles and bent over, clutching his stomach. Finally, their laughter died away.

“Enough of those horrible Piddingtons!” Emily said. “Come on, I'll race you to the bridge.”

Their feet drummed along the boardwalk as they ran, heading for the lights of the town and the livery stables.

 6 
Another Arrival

Emily put clean water and birdseed in her canary's cage, whistling softly to him at the same time. She closed the cage door and sat back on her bed. The bird began to sing. At first he whistled back at Emily, then his notes expanded into a beautiful trilling song. He sang as if he was truly happy, and Emily felt cheered. She'd always wanted an animal of her own. Ever since she was little she'd wished for a dog, but Father, and now Dede, would not allow a dog in the house or in the garden. She'd saved her own pocket money to buy the canary, and she loved him dearly. But, the past few days she'd been feeling sorry for the bird stuck in his cage.
Since the Piddingtons' arrival she had felt like a bird in a cage herself, and she hated it. She had to tiptoe around the house on her best behavior.

“Stand up straight. Walk more slowly. Fix your hair ribbon,” Dede would whisper when-ever Emily passed her. There was nowhere to escape to because she never knew where Mr. and Mrs. Piddington or one of Dede's regular churchy guests would turn up. Even in the garden or cow yard she would find someone glaring at her with disapproval, and the smell of Mr. Piddington's nasty cigarettes seemed to follow her everywhere. If only she could get away on her own.

Midweek, Emily came home from school to find another change. The horse barn was no longer empty. Emily ran to the fence to admire the new occupant. An old dark bay horse stood placidly in the field beside the barn, looking as comfortable as if he'd always lived there. He ambled toward Emily, nostrils testing the air for her scent. She bent down and plucked a handful of the long sweet grass that grew beside the fenceposts.

“Hello there,” Emily said, holding the grass out to the horse. He leaned toward her and took the grass in his lips, pulling it into his mouth and crunching it with long yellow teeth.

Emily held her hand against the horse's muzzle, letting him smell her. She was amazed at his muzzle's velvety softness. The horse's black whiskers tickled her hand, and warm air blew from his nostrils. She reached up to stroke the coarse hair of his nose, and he pushed against her hand to show that he liked her touch.

“I'm pleased to meet you too,” Emily said.

The horse looked at her steadily with large brown gentle eyes.

He was wonderful.

Rattling and banging at the barn door interrupted Emily's pleasure in the horse's company.

“Emily!” Dede called from the barn. “Help me get the horse harnessed to the phaeton.” Dede was pulling the small carriage out from the barn, bumping it against one of the doors as she did so.

Emily hurried through the gate and up to the barn to help Dede. Together, they tugged the carriage out through the double doors. Then Dede brought the halter over to the horse.

“What's his name?” Emily asked. “Where did you get him?”

“Just a minute, Emily,” Dede snapped as she struggled to pull the halter over the horse's head. The horse ducked his head helpfully and stood still.