Roots of Evil

At the centre of it all was Nina herself, lying on a chaise-longue in the upstairs drawing-room, sobbing and fretfully pushing away all the offers of laudanum or bromide in warm water, her hair in a snarl, and the delicate gloves and silk sandals she had been wearing tossed petulantly to the floor. Her mother sat at one end of the chaise-longue, wringing her hands ineffectually, saying that no one had ever been able to soothe Nina when she got into one of her nervous states, and oh dear, what were they to do, and think of the scandal…In front of the fireplace her papa and her brother were conversing in low voices.

Alice had hoped to creep unobtrusively to her room, but she was pounced upon, hauled into the drawing-room, and offered to the assembled company to be suitably dealt with. As she looked round, the thought that came uppermost in her mind was not her own plight, but that in Miss Nina’s situation she hoped she would have had more self-control than to indulge in a spoilt-child tantrum before everyone.

They fell silent as soon as they saw her; even Miss Nina sat up straight, and forgot about crying. The words shameful and guttersnipe hissed round the room; Alice had learned a little German by this time – she had, in fact, learned rather more than a little – and she could recognize those words very well indeed.

In the end, it had been Miss Nina’s brother who had ordered her from the house, his eyes meeting Alice’s in sly triumph. He adopted a prim shocked tone which Alice thought the greatest absurdity of the whole situation, and said she was to go immediately, they could not have such a creature under their roof. And then, possibly mindful of the need to appear considerate before guests, despite the circumstances, amended this to first light. She was to go at first light: she would be allowed to take her belongings with her – they were not thieves in this family, he added righteously. But after tomorrow they did not want ever to see or hear from her again. He glanced at his parents as he said this, and apparently receiving tacit approval, added, in a final burst of spite, that one day he hoped to see her reduced to begging in the streets for what she had done to his sister.

Alice said loudly, ‘Well, it is no worse than what you have done to some of your mother’s maids,’ and saw his face flush with embarrassment. He glanced uneasily at the listening people, and in a burst of bravado Alice added, ‘You tried to do it to me as well, but I fought you off.’

This time it was not embarrassment that flooded his face, it was glaring fury, and he took a step towards her, his fists clenched so that she thought he was going to hit her. But then Nina – by now Alice had ceased to think of the pampered little goose as ‘Miss’ – pettishly threw her shoes across the room at Alice, and followed them with a little cut-glass scent bottle. None of the objects hit Alice, but the scent bottle shattered and spilt its contents all over the polished floor, threatening to tip the scene from tragedy to melodrama, since grand passions do not play well against an overpowering aura of lily-of-the-valley perfume, and the gentlemen of the party had to discreetly cover their mouths and noses with their handkerchiefs.

Alice did not care. She did not care that she was being turned from the house and threatened by Nina’s brother; she said defiantly that she would go now, rather than wait until the morning.

She must suit herself about that, they said, and smugly told one another that at least no one could accuse them of turning her out into the night.