Wildthorn

Abruptly, Tom stood up and loomed over me. "Don't start all that again. This is a good chance for you, Lou. You'd better accept it."

 

I pushed my chair back and went over to the window. It was raining heavily now. Dr. Woodville would be getting wet. Now I could see why he was so interested in me. He was sizing me up. But I didn't want to go and live with strangers far away. I didn't want to be at the beck and call of some wealthy young lady who'd look down on me because our family wasn't as grand as hers.

 

"Look!" Tom was sounding exasperated. "It's all been arranged—you have to go and that's that."

 

I spun round. "I won't go. You can't make me." I jutted my chin out. "Besides, you've forgotten something. Mamma needs me here."

 

Tom shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lou. I was trying to spare you this, but you're not helping Mother—in fact you're making her worse!"

 

"What! What are you talking about?"

 

"She didn't want to tell me, but I got it out of her. You've been neglecting her, haven't you? Sneaking off to read, instead of spending time with her."

 

I stared at him. The accusation was so unfair. I'd hardly spent any time away from Mamma. "But, Tom, that's not true! I'm always with her."

 

"That's not what she says. You let her sit alone, worrying herself half to death. It's too bad of you, Lou!"

 

How could she say such things? It was so unjust! One thing was clear. She didn't appreciate anything I'd done for her. Very well. I would go away and then she'd see what a mistake she'd made. She'd soon be begging me to come back.

 

Tom was regarding me expectantly as if he was waiting for a storm to erupt. Well, for once he would be disappointed. I drew myself up to my full height. "I see. In that case, I'll go where I'm wanted. When is Mrs. Woodville expecting me?" I spoke as coolly as I could, but inside I was trembling. How could Mamma do this to me!

 

Tom looked taken aback by my sudden acquiescence. "Oh, next Wednesday. I thought that would give you enough time to get ready."

 

Next Wednesday. So soon? I swallowed. When would I see my home again ... I'd been so desperate to escape from it, but not like this...

 

Tom broke into my thoughts. "I've engaged a companion for Mamma, a Mrs. Grey, and she'll be arriving on Wednesday afternoon."

 

A companion? Mamma preferred a companion to me?

 

All my sentimental thoughts vanished. If I really wasn't wanted here, it wasn't my home anymore. I'd be glad to leave! And I'd ignore Mamma as much as possible in the few days that remained to me.

 

Sticking out my chin, I said to Tom, "Please tell Mamma that I've agreed to go. And now if you'll excuse me, I have to think about what I need to take with me." I swept from the room with as much dignity as I could muster.

 

Mary was just letting Dr. Woodville in at the front door and seeing me, he inclined his head and smiled. "Not a very pleasant day, Miss Cosgrove."

 

"No indeed, Dr. Woodville, it is not."

 

At that moment Mamma came out of the parlour. She looked red-eyed, as if she'd been weeping. I steeled my heart. She glanced at Dr. Woodville. I guessed she wanted to say something to me, but I turned away from them both and walked up the stairs.

 

I managed to contain myself until I reach the turn of the landing, but, once out of sight, I rushed towards the sanctuary of my old room.

 

Its emptiness hit me. It was as if I'd already ceased to live there.

 

Shutting the door, I flung myself down on the bare mattress and seized hold of Annabel, who lay abandoned there. Just as in the old days, I hugged her to me.

 

She was the only friend I had left.

 

 

 

 

 

Mr. Sneed has sent for me! At last.

 

Mamma must have written to him. Perhaps she has come to take me home, is in his office at this very moment, waiting for me. Trust Mamma to wait until Monday; even for this she wouldn't travel on the Sabbath.

 

Eliza told me just now in the day room. She delivered her message as if it was the dullest news in the world, as if she didn't know how much it meant to me. But then Weeks was in the room, so perhaps she was being careful.

 

As soon as we're out of the gallery, I say, "Oh, Eliza, what do you think? I told you I should be going home!"

 

In a flat voice, she says, "I couldn't say, Miss."

 

What's the matter with her?

 

I start to speak, but she says, "We mustn't keep Mr. Sneed waiting, Miss." She sets off at a brisk pace and I have to hurry to keep up with her.

 

Oh, well, I can't think about Eliza. My heart is jumping too much and in my head I'm singing: I'm going home, I'm going home, over and over, in time with my boots marching on the stone flags.

 

Along the grey corridors we go, under the low arched ceilings.

 

At last we reach Mr. Sneed's office and Eliza turns to me. "Here we are, Miss."

 

She meets my eyes for the first time and there is something not right ... But what does she mean by her look? Is she warning me? Or asking for something from me?

 

"Eliza—" I begin, but she knocks, a voice calls, "Come in," and she opens the door.

 

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