‘Of course she will. No, for her, you’re just another boy.’
‘Really, Lizzie, I can’t see anything remarkable about those bricks,’ said Milly. The door was opening. I messed up my hair and assumed my best bored expression. ‘So these are your rooms, Charlie. Very nice. So much light up here.’ A girl of Lizzie’s age glided into the room. She was dressed in a deep red cape with fur round the hood. Her dark eyes darted from side to side with lively attention to every detail. Lizzie followed, wearing her pretty grey spenser jacket and muff. Our eyes met. An expression of consternation passed across her face. Did I really look that shocking? She turned her gaze away.
‘Ladies,’ said Charlie formally, bowing to them. ‘May I introduce our room mate Tom . . . Cat Smith.’
I bowed clumsily.
‘Tom Cat? What a peculiar name?’ commented Milly, staring at me through her long black lashes.
‘It’s a nickname,’ Frank jumped in quickly. ‘His full name is Thomas Bennington-Smythe. I’m looking after him this term: he’s my shadow.’
Milly gave me a smile. ‘What a sweet little boy. He does look a bit like a kitten, doesn’t he, Lizzie, with those big green eyes?’
‘Er, yes,’ said Lizzie quickly, her gaze gliding over me as if she did not know where to look. I flushed with embarrassment.
‘How old are you, child? You look very young to be at this school.’
‘He’s only two years below me, Milly, though he is one of the smallest,’ said Charlie.
‘Do you like school, Tom Cat?’ She was talking to me as if I was barely out of the nursery.
‘Yes, thank you, miss,’ I replied gruffly.
‘You know, I’ve got a brother your age. He’s called Thomas too.’
‘Shouldn’t we be going?’ interrupted Lizzie, pulling on her friend’s arm. ‘The Miss Millers will be waiting for us.’
‘They won’t mind if we’re a bit late,’ Milly replied, taking the chair I had just vacated. ‘Now, how about rustling your sister up a cup of tea, Charlie?’
There seemed no shifting her. Charlie pretended he had run out of tea but Milly sniffed out the caddy in a trice and put the kettle on the fire herself.
‘Anyone would think you weren’t pleased to have visitors, Charlie,’ Milly said with a laugh. ‘Don’t you want to hear how the Movement is getting on? You were all fired up with enthusiasm for it last week when there was the African boy to champion.’
‘I still am,’ said Charlie, urging the kettle on to steam so that tea could be dispensed as quickly as possible.
‘And what about you, Mr Tom Cat?’ Milly had clearly taken a fancy to my nickname. ‘Are you a supporter of the cause?’
‘Yes, indeed, miss,’ I said, wishing she wouldn’t keep smiling at me as I was trying to keep to my boyish sulks.
‘Then perhaps you’d like one of these?’ She took from her capacious reticule a flat pottery disc about the size of my palm. ‘It’s made by Mr Wedgwood’s manufactory.’ I took it from her and saw that it was decorated on one side with a kneeling African in chains. Surrounding him were the words ‘Am I not a man and a brother?’ – a line from one of my favourite anti-slavery poems by Cowper.
‘Thank you, miss.’
‘Well, they’re a guinea each. We’re selling them to raise money for our work.’ She gave me an expectant look.
‘Oh.’ I blushed an even deeper shade of red. I didn’t have a guinea – just the loose change that Mr Sheridan had thrust into my hand up in the Sparrow’s Nest and there was no gold among those coins.
‘Here, I’ve got some money. You can pay me back later, Tom Cat,’ said Frank quickly.
‘Thanks.’ The medallion now seemed to be burning my hand as I stuffed it into my jacket. Unfortunately, Milly did not have a tactful bone in her body. Her attempts to make amends for putting me on the spot only made things worse.
‘I do apologize, Mr Tom Cat. Of course, I should have thought that you might not have the means to pay out such a sum. I should have asked Charlie first.’
‘It’s all right, miss.’
‘No, it’s not. I can see I mortified you. You must never be embarrassed by lack of means.’ She cocked her head to one side, examining me closely. ‘I’ve no doubt your father is an honourable man much respected in the circles he moves in, despite financial constraints. Am I right?’
‘I am an orphan, miss,’ I said sullenly.
‘Oh lord, worse and worse! Please forgive me. My family are always telling me that when I get myself in a hole, I must stop digging, but I don’t seem able to somehow. I have an instinct for saying the wrong thing, you could say. So, Mr Tom Cat, you must have a very kind patron who pays your fees, I suppose? Some decent man of good family? You must count yourself very fortunate.’
Her curiosity was relentless. She seemed determined to winkle out of me my family connections. It may have been merely the concern of a sister trying to check that her brother was mixing with the right sort; it may have been that she was plain nosy. I could hardly blame her because curiosity was a sin of which I certainly was guilty.
‘Indeed, miss, I have two very kind patrons without whom I wouldn’t be here today.’ I gave Frank and Charlie a sly grin.
‘That’s better. I’m so pleased to see you smile. I thought I had quite sent you into the doldrums with my foolishness.’
We all watched her drink her tea with hawkish interest. As soon as she had drained her cup, Charlie leapt to his feet.
‘Now that you’ve finished, let me show you to your carriage, Milly.’
‘My word, Charlie, you’re in a hurry to get rid of us, aren’t you?’
‘Not at all, sis, not at all. It’s just that . . .’ Charlie fished around for a plausible excuse.
‘We’ve got fencing practice in a few minutes and we need to change,’ said Frank quickly.