‘I knew what happened in Paris and Versailles during the French Revolution,’ Tilly continued. ‘I knew that Amelie had to escape to England to survive the violence of the Reign of Terror. Somehow I believe our destinies have been intertwined. I am one of Amelie’s distant descendants.’
A flurry of emotions passed across Henri’s face – shock, disbelief, hurt, realisation and, finally, acceptance.
‘I see,’ he murmured, glancing at Amelie for confirmation.
Amelie simply nodded, too tired and overwhelmed to argue or explain.
‘I knew you were an unusual girl, but I did not realise quite how unusual,’ Henri said. ‘Is the future good? Do things improve?’
Tilly thought about life. She thought about the differences between eighteenth-century France – its shocking inequalities, poverty, violence, decadence and cruelty – and her own normal life in her own simple family in twenty-first-century Australia.
‘Life is very good,’ Tilly offered with a smile. ‘Of course, it always has its ups and downs, but we are so lucky in my time. Amelie has a lucky life, too. She makes a new home in England. She marries, has children and creates a life for herself. The future is full of wonderful possibilities.’
Amelie smiled gratefully, imagining her new life opening up before her.
Henri took Tilly’s hand and kissed it gently.
‘Thank you, mademoiselle Tilly,’ Henri said. ‘Thank you for everything you have done for us.’
Tilly blushed, her hand burning where Henri had kissed it.
‘It was nothing. I mean, I loved it,’ Tilly replied bashfully.
‘Do you know who I marry?’ Amelie asked suddenly, her eyes flashing with curiosity. ‘It is not some boring old baron or duke, is it?’
‘I don’t know,’ answered Tilly truthfully, ‘but I think you follow your heart.’
Amelie smiled secretively and resumed eating her pie. Tilly gazed wistfully at them both.
Whatever will happen to us all?
After the meal, everyone was exhausted and went upstairs to bed.
At the top of the stairs, Tilly suddenly turned back and hugged Amelie and then Henri.
‘Goodnight, Amelie. Goodnight, Henri. Sleep well.’
‘Bon nuit,’
chorused Amelie and Henri. ‘See you in the morning.’
Mimi jumped up onto Tilly’s leg and clambered onto her shoulder, winding her furry arm around Tilly’s neck. Mimi chattered softly in Tilly’s ear and then gently nibbled her earlobe, stroking Tilly’s hair.
‘Oh,’ Tilly cried, patting Mimi’s soft brown head. ‘Mimi’s never done that before. I thought she hated me.’
‘Mimi takes a long time to get to know people, but once she does, she’s your friend for life,’ Amelie explained with a giggle.
Tilly picked up Mimi and gently handed her back to Amelie. ‘Goodnight, Mimi. Sleep well.’
Tilly closed the crooked, low door behind her. She had to stoop to go under the lintel. A feeling of sadness washed over her. She undressed, leaving only her chemise on, and climbed into the narrow bed.
Her thoughts travelled through all the adventures she had had since coming to eighteenth-century France – the danger, the violence, the terror, but also the fun, the friendship and the excitement. Then her thoughts turned once more to her family and home. Images of her old life tumbled through her mind, chasing each other in dreamy confusion.
Tilly cradled the ruby talisman in her hands.
I wish I could go home now,
she thought.
I miss my family and friends.
When Tilly finally woke, sunshine was pouring in through the attic window and dancing on the sloped ceiling. Her eyes were heavy and her body felt like lead. She closed her eyes and snuggled down into the pillow again. Sounds and smells gradually forced their way into the drowsy cotton-wool of her brain.
She could hear a voice from downstairs and birds singing outside. The smell of coffee wafted up from the kitchen.
We need to make plans to get to London,
Tilly thought.
I wonder how late it is? I must wake Amelie and Henri so we can get moving.
Tilly forced herself out of bed. She stood up in her chemise, her head spinning with dizziness. She had to sit down and close her eyes, pushing away the dull thump of her headache. At last the dizziness cleared and she could stand up again.
It was then she realised that the attic bedroom was not the one she had fallen asleep in at the Crumplehorn Inn in Cornwall.
It was the little attic bedroom at Auntie Kara’s house.
Tilly immediately raced down the stairs. Auntie Kara was on the phone to her son, Zac.
‘Okay, darling,’ Kara said. ‘I can hear Tilly’s awake at last, so I’d better go.’
Kara hung up. Tilly flew across the room and hugged her.
‘Oh, I’m so happy to see you,’ Tilly cried, her eyes shining with joy.
‘Are you all right, Tilly?’ asked Kara with concern, hugging her niece back. ‘You have been asleep for hours, and when I checked on you I thought you looked flushed and feverish.’
Kara felt Tilly’s forehead with her cool hand.
‘I feel wonderful,’ replied Tilly. ‘When is Mum coming to pick me up?’
Kara looked surprised. ‘About six o’clock this evening. She is picking up Tim from your father’s, then coming over here.’
‘Do you think we could ring Mum to see if she could pick me up first, and then I could go to Dad’s with her to get Tim?’ Tilly asked. ‘I’d like to see him.’
‘Sure,’ Kara replied with even greater surprise. ‘And what would you like to do today? Are you going to finish your assignment?’
‘I thought maybe we could go shopping?’ asked Tilly shyly. ‘I have some money that Dad sent me for my birthday, and I thought I might buy some new clothes.’
Kara’s face glowed with pleasure. ‘I know just the place,’ she offered. ‘Why don’t you go and get dressed? I like your nightie by the way. It looks so gorgeous and old-fashioned, and that lace is exquisite.’
Tilly fingered the lace at her throat. She was still wearing an eighteenth-century handmade cotton chemise, pin-tucked and embroidered. She felt the cool gold of the chain around her neck and blushed.
So it wasn’t all a dream,
she thought.
She reluctantly took the ruby necklace off and handed it to Kara.
‘I’m sorry, Kara,’ Tilly apologised. ‘I fell asleep wearing the ruby necklace. I forgot to give it back to you.’
‘Never mind,’ said Kara. ‘I’ll put it back in the safe. It suits you, though. One day, when you are older, I’ll give it to you. The ruby necklace has always been handed down from daughter to daughter and, as I don’t have a daughter of my own, I think it should go to you.’
‘I’d like that, thank you, Kara.’
After breakfast, Kara and Tilly jumped in the little convertible and headed out shopping. It was a gorgeous spring day, with the sun shining as hot as summer and the sky as blue as one of Tante’s Beatrice’s sapphire rings.
Tilly was wearing her old jeans, runners and a stretched T-shirt. It felt strange to be wearing her own clothes again after days of wearing stays, chemises, petticoats and long skirts. Tilly almost felt like she was going out shopping in her pyjamas.
‘What would you like to buy?’ asked Kara. ‘Do you have anything in mind?’
‘No...’ replied Tilly uncertainly. ‘Maybe something to wear for dinner with Mum and Dad tonight?’
‘And maybe something fun and summery for this perfect weather?’ suggested Kara.
Tilly looked down at her old jeans and laughed. ‘Good idea,’ she agreed.
First stop was a warehouse outlet with rack upon rack of singlet tops, flirty skirts, sundresses, leggings and T-shirts in a rainbow of hot pinks, turquoise, yellow, orange, black, fuschia and moss-green.
Tilly was bewildered by the vast array of colours, sizes and styles, tentatively pulling out the odd garment. Kara flipped through the racks with practised ease, gathering an armful of clothes.
‘Do you like these with the lace around the hem or without?’ Kara asked, holding up two pairs of leggings.
‘Lace,’ decided Tilly.
‘Black or pink?’ Kara offered.
‘Black, no pink ... maybe black.’
‘Okay – to the change room,’ ordered Kara, carrying her armful of offerings.
Kara laid out a few suggested combinations – hot-pink singlet top with turquoise flippy miniskirt; Moroccan-inspired embroidered dress with black leggings; a Chinese-style tunic; denim shorts under a floaty floral dress; a tight, black T-shirt with sparkly silver ‘Rock Chick’ emblazoned across the chest.
‘I don’t have enough money to buy very much,’ replied Tilly, worried by the huge pile of clothes.
‘We’re not going to buy everything,’ Kara assured her. ‘We just want to see what suits you and what you love.’
Tilly smiled and gave in, taking the armful of clothes.
‘Now I want a fashion parade,’ instructed Kara, settling herself into a chair outside the change cubicles. The sales assistant came to watch the fun, running to fetch a belt or a hat she thought would complement each ensemble.
Tilly tried on each outfit, then skipped outside to show Kara the result.
‘Twirl around,’ ordered Kara. ‘Walk up and down so I can see you move in it.’
Tilly had great fun.
‘Try this silver belt with that skirt,’ suggested the sales assistant, holding out a wide, sparkling belt.
Tilly slipped the belt around her slim hips. The purple skirt was stiff with tulle.
Tilly looked at Kara and raised her eyebrows. Kara looked quizzically and shrugged.
‘Do you have one not quite so wide?’ asked Tilly.
In the end Tilly chose black leggings, the floral floaty dress, hot-pink singlet top and turquoise flippy miniskirt. Kara added the black ‘Rock Chick’ T-shirt and a pair of denim shorts.
‘It’s a bargain,’ Kara hissed with glee. ‘They’re half price.’
The sales assistant folded up the clothes and packed them in a paper bag.
‘What about the hat?’ she asked, pushing a chocolate straw trilby across the counter. ‘It’s reduced to fifteen dollars, and it did look gorgeous on your daughter.’
Kara and Tilly smiled at each other conspiratorially. Tilly tried the hat on again and pouted in the mirror. It was very cute.
‘We’ll take it,’ decided Kara with a nod. Tilly’s heart flooded with delight.
Tilly pulled out her wallet to pay with the money her dad had sent for her birthday months ago. She had saved the money, not having the heart to spend it before now.
‘Why don’t you change into one of your new outfits?’ suggested Kara. ‘It’s too hot for jeans today.’
Tilly chose the floaty dress and leggings. She came out of the change room with a huge smile on her face and the chocolate straw trilby on her head.
‘I love the dress, but I’m not sure about the runners!’ joked Tilly, grimacing down at her grubby shoes.
‘Next stop – fun and fabulous shoes,’ agreed Kara. ‘Come on, Tilly supermodel.’
The shoe shop had an array of sandals, sparkly thongs, espadrilles, sandshoes and high heels.
Something caught Tilly’s eye. Her heart jumped to her mouth.
On a raised stand was a pair of elegant, rose-pink, satin ballet flats. They were exactly the same colour as the rose satin high heels that Amelie loved.
Tilly looked at the price and sighed. She didn’t have enough money. Her shoulders slumped and she turned away. Perhaps the thongs were cheaper.
Kara saw Tilly’s interest spark, then her disappointment. Tilly tried on a pair of canvas espadrilles, then a pair of diamanté-studded thongs, turning her feet this way and that in front of the mirror.
Kara picked up the satin ballet flats.
‘These are rather lovely, Tilly?’ asked Kara. ‘Would you like to try them on?’
‘They’re beautiful,’ agreed Tilly regretfully, stroking the satin with her forefinger. ‘But they’re too expensive. I don’t have enough money left.’
‘Do you have these in size seven?’ Kara asked the shop assistant.
Tilly slipped her feet into the ballet flats. They looked gorgeous. They made her feel like dancing and twirling. Tilly pointed her toe.
‘Happy birthday, darling,’ said Kara. ‘They’re perfect.’
Tilly beamed at Kara and threw her arms around her aunt’s neck.
‘Thank you so much, Kara,’ cried Tilly. ‘It’s naughty of you to give me something so expensive, but I do love them.’
‘It’s a pleasure, sweetheart,’ Kara replied. ‘I told you I wanted to spoil you. Now, let’s put those disgusting runners in a bag and head to the op shop.’
Tilly skipped out of the store, carrying her two big shopping bags. As she left, she recognised a girl coming in with her mother. It was Bella, the girl she had fought at fencing last week.
‘Hi, Bella,’ said Tilly, smiling in welcome.
‘Oh, Tilly,’ replied Bella, looking surprised. ‘I didn’t recognise you. You look great. I love your dress, and the hat.’
Tilly beamed. ‘This is my aunt, Kara, and she’s taking me on a makeover mission for my birthday,’ explained Tilly. ‘I bought the dress and the hat across the road at the warehouse outlet, and Kara just bought me these shoes. Aren’t they lovely?’
Bella smiled back. ‘Yes, they’re gorgeous, you lucky thing. I’m jealous. We’re here to buy boring runners for school.’
Tilly pulled a face in sympathy. ‘Oh well, see you at fencing next week,’ she said, stepping outside.
‘Bye,’ replied Bella. ‘Happy birthday.’
Tilly didn’t correct her.
The next stop was an op shop full of vintage and ‘pre-loved’ clothes.
‘I adore this shop,’ explained Kara. ‘You can find the most amazing things for next to nothing. It’s like a treasure hunt.’
Once again, Kara showed her nose for sniffing out bargains and treasures.
She found a moss-green lace evening dress with a wide satin ribbon around the waist for five dollars; a thin, cream crocheted scarf for two dollars; and a long, silver chain with a silver and pearl cross pendant for five.
‘The dress is a bit big for you,’ Kara mused. ‘But I can put a tuck in the back here and it will look gorgeous.’
When Juliette arrived to pick Tilly up that evening, Tilly flew to answer the door, wearing the moss-green lace evening dress over black leggings with the rose-pink satin ballet flats. She had borrowed a slick of lip gloss from Kara and done her hair half back, half down.