The World Within (17 page)

Oh, Miss Wooler. If she’s behind this, no wonder Charlotte’s so keen. Clearly her sister has lost none of her admiration for that wretched woman with her white dresses and daft notions.

“Shouldn’t you speak to Papa about it?” With any luck he won’t like the idea and that’ll put a stop to it.

“I will, but not yet. I want to practice as much as I can and then —” Charlotte stops and looks round to make sure they’re still on their own. Then she comes close and says quietly, “I want to enter some drawings for the Art Society’s summer exhibition. If they’re accepted, then I’ll speak to Papa. But mind, till then, you mustn’t tell anyone. And I don’t want anyone else to know about my plans until after the exhibition.”

“Not even Branwell?”

“Especially not Branwell.”

Emily can’t stop thinking about their conversation.

Fancy Charlotte confiding in her — her, and not Branwell! But perhaps it’s not so surprising. She can’t imagine what Branwell’s reaction will be when he finds out — anything from scorn of Charlotte’s abilities to alarm at no longer being the only artist in the making in the family. Whatever it is, he won’t hold back.

But anyway, Branwell isn’t important.

What matters is that Charlotte chose her.

It’s what she’s been waiting for. It’s just like the old days when the two of them used to make up plays in bed that they didn’t tell the others about.

But as for Charlotte’s plan — she doesn’t like that at all. Why can’t Charlotte be content to stay at home, to go on as they always have? Why must she want to be something in the world?

A horrible thought strikes her. What if Anne has ambitions she doesn’t know about? What if she wants to go away too?

As soon as there’s a chance, she asks Anne, making it sound casual. “Have you ever thought there’s something you’d like to do?”

Straight away Anne says, “I’d like to travel and see more of the world. I’d love to see the sea, wouldn’t you?”

Emily shrugs. “I’ve never thought about it. What I really mean is, have you an idea of what you would like to be? You know, if anything were possible?”

Anne frowns, thinking. And then she says, “I would like to be a better person.”

Emily snorts. “Don’t be silly. You’re the goodest person I know. I don’t see how you can be improved upon.”

Amused, Anne shakes her head. “That’s not true and you know it.” Then she says quietly, “I often fall short of what I ought to be.”

Emily doesn’t say anything. When Anne talks like this, she never knows what to say. She’s sure they don’t have the same ideas about religion. For her sister, it’s all about duty and leading a virtuous life — Aunt’s influence rather than Papa’s. But she’d never want to hurt Anne’s feelings by arguing with her.

“And I would like to do some good in the world if I could.” Anne sighs.

Emily groans inwardly. Here are both her sisters hankering after “the world.” She can’t understand it at all. What does the world have to offer in comparison to staying at home and being able to “live,” as it were, in Gondal? How can her sisters want the dull real world when their imaginary worlds are so much more exciting?

Later, helping Tabby clear away after tea, she suddenly asks her, “Did you ever have ambitions when you were younger, Tabby?”

“Ambitions?” Tabby pauses in her wiping of the table. “I can’t say as I did. I had a hope of marrying, which I did, and then, when I were left on my own, like, I hoped I’d find a place where I could see out my days comfortably and be of some use. Which I have.” She smiles broadly at Emily, but Emily can’t smile back. Tabby’s answer hasn’t really helped.

Tabby looks at her closely, serious now. “What’s put this into thi head, lass?”

“Oh, nothing.” She’d love to tell Tabby about Charlotte’s plan and talk it through with her. But, of course, she can’t betray Charlotte’s confidence.

“Is there maybe something tha’s hankering after?”

“No!” Emily seizes the broom and begins briskly sweeping up the crumbs on the floor. “Nothing at all.”

Which, of course, isn’t true. What she’s “hankering after” is to stay exactly where she is, doing exactly what she does, and for everyone else to do the same.

One day toward the end of May Charlotte announces that Papa’s said she can invite her friend Ellen to stay.

This is astonishing news. Apart from people seeing Papa on church business, they rarely have visitors. There are the curates, of course, who supposedly come to discuss spiritual matters but who seem more interested in Tabby’s pastries, and the Sunday school teachers, who are invited to tea once a year, but no one has ever
stayed
with them before.

Emily gets straight to the point. “Why do you want this Ellen to come here?”

Taken aback, Charlotte doesn’t answer immediately.

“You see,” Emily crows. “There isn’t a reason for her to visit.”

Charlotte shakes her head. “Of course there is. Apart from anything else, it’s the proper thing to do after she was kind enough to invite me to her house.”

“Oh, proper.” Emily shrugs her shoulders dismissively.

“Anyway” — Charlotte’s tone is assertive — “I
want
to see her. She’s my friend.”

Emily is completely baffled. She stares at her sister, and can’t think of a single thing to say.

Later, she grumbles to Anne. “This is going to disrupt our routine completely
and
create more work for Tabby, which isn’t fair.”

“I suppose it will be nice for Charlotte,” says Anne mildly.

“Probably. Very nice, but not for the rest of us. Especially me. Do you know, Charlotte’s decided that Ellen’s going to sleep with her and I’ve got to make do with the pallet bed?”

Anne clucks her tongue sympathetically.

Her sister’s response is consoling. But she doesn’t tell Anne the thing that’s bothering her most — that she doesn’t want this Ellen, this
friend
of Charlotte’s, here, in their house. She doesn’t want to have to face up to how close her sister is to this stranger.

The last straw comes when Charlotte declares that they shouldn’t do any writing while Ellen is staying with them.

Emily exclaims, “Well, of course we wouldn’t, not in her presence. But there’s nothing to stop me and Anne going off and doing whatever we want, while you talk to her.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Why ever not?” Emily is outraged.

“It would be rude. We should do all we can to entertain her.”

“So we’ve got to talk to her every minute of the day?”

“Don’t be silly. We can do other things. But I don’t want to write because Ellen would want to read it and … you don’t know her, of course … but I think she’d be shocked if she saw what I wrote.”

Emily frowns. “Why ever would she be shocked?”

“Ellen’s very religious.” Charlotte pauses. “I think, maybe partly because of Papa being a clergyman, she believes I’m better than I am.”

Emily laughs. “And you don’t want her to find out the awful truth.”

A red tinge creeps into Charlotte’s face. “No, I don’t,” she admits. “Sometimes, you know, I shock
myself
by the things I write.”

“What?”

“It’s true,” Charlotte sighs. “Instead of dwelling on the Duke of Zamorna and his adulterous affairs, I ought to be writing about nobler subjects, people who are wholly good.”

“But there aren’t such people.” Emily is surprised that Charlotte can’t see this. “Basically, everyone acts from self-interest, don’t they?”

Charlotte’s eyes widen. “Emily! You don’t believe that, do you? What about people who do altruistic acts? Like the Good Samaritan? And our Lord who sacrificed Himself for our sake?”

“I don’t know about our Lord, but I reckon most people do good deeds because it makes them feel good. And in the Bible people are told to do good so they can go to heaven. So they’re getting something out of it, aren’t they?”

“That’s a dreadful thing to say.”

Emily shrugs. “Anyway, I’m sure there are a lot of people who behave like your Zamorna, or would if they got a chance. You’re only telling the truth. And that’s what we’re always being told to do, isn’t it?”

Charlotte looks doubtful. “Ye-es. In real life. But perhaps writing is different. In any case, I’d rather not risk it with Ellen. And you won’t say things like you just said about religion in her hearing, will you?”

This Ellen is sounding worse by the minute. But Charlotte needn’t worry about what she might say. She’ll do what she always does when visitors come — she won’t say a word.

A few days later, when Emily and Anne are supposedly learning some riveting geographic facts, Emily can’t help noticing that Charlotte’s looking round the parlor and frowning. Finally her sister bursts out, “Don’t you think the furniture in here looks awfully shabby? I wonder if we could cover up the sofa with something.”

Emily exchanges a look with Anne and then says, “Why on earth would you want to do that? The horsehair cloth’s a bit worn, but it’s perfectly serviceable.”

“Well, Ellen’s family is well-to-do and The Rydings is such a well-appointed house. In the drawing room they have comfortable upholstered armchairs and little tables and whatnots.”

Emily snorts with exasperation. “What on earth is the point of such folderols? We have enough chairs to sit on and a table to sit at. Why would you want anything else? It only means more things to dust.”