Emily's Dream (6 page)

Outrage and disbelief coursed through Emily.

“How dare you look through my private book!” she shouted, striding up to them and snatching the book from Mrs. Piddington's hands.

“Well, isn't she touchy?” Mr. Piddington said with a trace of amusement. He sucked deeply on a long brown cigarette and blew the smoke in Emily's direction.

Emily waved the smoke away with her book, her eyes sparking with anger.

“You–” She pointed a finger at Mr. Piddington, ready to tell him what she thought of him.

“Emily!” Dede's sharp voice came from behind Emily, stopping her words.

“I hope my sister isn't being rude,” Dede said to the Piddingtons.

“They had my sketchbook,” Emily told her.

“Emily, please don't interrupt me.” Dede kept her voice pleasant in front of the Piddingtons, but Emily could hear its dangerous undertone.

Mrs. Piddington waved her handkerchief.

“We were just admiring her sketches,” she said sweetly. “We meant no harm.”

“Yes, quite,” Mr. Piddington said, agreeing with his wife. “The kid just overreacted.”

“I'm not a kid!” Emily cut in angrily. “And you have no right to look through other people's things.”

She thought she saw Mr. Piddington smile slightly, as if he'd been expecting her reaction. At the same time, Dede took hold of her elbow in a pinching grip.

“Apologize to our guests, Emily,” Dede ordered quietly.

Emily clamped her mouth shut and glared at the Piddingtons. She realized that, for the first time, Mr. Piddington did not look so bored, and she wondered if he was enjoying seeing her in trouble. She watched him take another long drag of his cigarette. This time, when he exhaled, he blew the smoke carefully off to the side of the room.

“Emily, I said apologize to our guests.”

Emily heard the threat in Dede's voice, and she was sure the Piddington's did too. If she did not apologize she would be whipped again. She remembered all too well the sting of the riding whip on the back of her legs. But still, Emily said nothing.

“Very well, Emily. You give me no choice.” Dede's grip on Emily's elbow tightened further as she directed Emily out of the room. As Emily turned, she thought she saw the corners of Mr. Piddington's mouth twitch into a smile.

Emily hardened herself as Dede marched her to the kitchen where the riding whip
hung. She would not make a sound, and she would not cry, Emily told herself.

She gritted her teeth against the first blow.

 11 
Revenge

The tears came later as Emily saddled Johnny and buried her face in his warm neck. Everyone seemed to be against her. If only Mother were alive. She at least would sympathize with Emily. Even if she didn't understand Emily, she would not be so hard on her. And if Mother and Father were still alive, the horrible Piddingtons wouldn't be staying with them.

Emily put her arms around Johnny's neck, breathing in his comforting animal smell. He blew softly, standing patiently as she held him. Emily took a deep breath and wiped away her tears. She would get back at Mr. Piddington somehow.

Once they were away from houses and people, Emily loosened the reins and let Johnny take the lead. They passed farmers' fields and tangled hedges of wild roses. When they came alongside a thick forest, Johnny suddenly veered toward it, heading right for the trees. Alarmed, Emily moved to tighten the reins and turn Johnny back to the road. But then she saw the path. The trees parted, and Johnny took them in.

He walked calmly along the trail. The trees seemed to close in behind them, and Emily had to duck her head under low branches more than once. Here and there, fingers of sunlight reached down into the forest, touching leaves, stroking tree limbs. The leaves rustled softly, the sunlight shifted and danced, and Emily felt her anger and frustration ease away.

After a while, the trail opened into a small clearing. Johnny stopped in the middle of the open space, and Emily slid off his back. She left Johnny to graze and sat down under a tall oak tree, leaning back against the firm solid trunk and closing her eyes.
Around her, the leaves whispered, and she felt the warm touch of sunlight on her face–gentle as her mother's hand. Her own hand rested on a rough cool root, and she sensed the slow movement of sap under the bark, like the pulse of blood through her own body. She opened her eyes, and green light dazzled her. All around her was the green movement of life. It coursed through the trees, through the birds, through the tiny insects crawling and flying, through the new sprouts and leaves, through the trunk she leaned against, and through her. For a wonderful dizzy moment, she did not know where she stopped and the forest started. She was part of it all, and it was part of her.

As the feeling began to slip away, Emily grasped after it. If only she could paint the forest as she felt it – capture this moment in paint and color so she could keep it with her. Emily blinked and sighed. She'd once heard real painters visiting from England say it couldn't be done. They said the British Columbia forest was too wild and untamed
to paint. But they didn't know the forest like she did. Maybe there was some way to paint it–to paint how it felt today.

Emily stood up, suddenly frustrated. She didn't know enough about art. She had to learn more. But there was no one in Victoria who could teach her what she wanted to know. Across the clearing, Johnny blew and tossed his head. Emily glanced up at the sun and put the thought of art lessons out of her mind. It was time to get back.

Dick met Emily at the barn.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Emily's thoughts were still full of the forest, and she smiled.

“Don't worry,” she said. “Johnny and I rode away Dede and the Piddingtons.”

Dick grinned.

“I wish I could do that,” he said. “I've got to hide up in my room pretending to feel sick or overwhelmed with homework to escape them.”

He helped Emily put away the bridle and saddle and rub down Johnny. They left
Johnny grazing contentedly and headed to the house. Emily's stomach grumbled. She'd been away so long she'd missed lunch. She expected Dede to greet her with more angry words, but the house was quiet.

“Don't worry,” Dick whispered. “They've gone out.”

Emily glanced cautiously into the drawing room.

“Are you sure?” she asked. She could see Mr. Piddington's silver cigarette case lying on the table between the two stuffed chairs.

“Yes. They hired a chaise to go visit a naval friend at the base in Esquimalt. Dede went too. They'll be away until evening.”

Relief washed over Emily. What luxury to have the whole house to themselves!

“Where are Alice and Lizzie?” she asked.

“In the kitchen cleaning up,” Dick said. “Alice saved you some dinner.”

“Good,” Emily said, still caught in the drawing room doorway. Instead of heading to the kitchen, she stepped into the drawing room. Dick followed her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Emily wasn't sure. Her feet seemed to have a will of their own. She stopped in front of the little table and put one finger to her lips to hush Dick. Then she snatched up the silver cigarette case and pushed it deep into the pocket of her pinafore. Dick's eyes widened.

Later that evening, Emily heard the chaise drive up. She listened from her room as Dede and the Piddingtons came through the front door and hung up their coats in the hall. She heard them moving about, then Mr. Piddington's voice calling to his wife.

“I thought I'd left it in the drawing room, but it's not there.”

“Are you sure you didn't have it with you when we went out?” Mrs. Piddington asked.

“Of course I'm sure. I noticed the case was missing as soon as I went to get a cigarette.” Mr. Piddington sounded annoyed.

Up in her room, Emily smiled to herself.

 12 
Unease

“You haven't seen Mr. Piddington's cigarette case, have you Emily?” Dede asked the next morning.

“No.” Emily busied herself buttering a slice of bread and did not meet Dede's eyes.

After breakfast, Dede drove the Piddingtons to church in the phaeton, while Emily and the others walked. The morning was already warm, and the sun silvered the blades of grass as the four of them cut across the field behind the house. Emily and Dick dropped behind Alice and Lizzie.

“Dede asked me about Mr. Piddington's case,” Dick told Emily in a whisper.

Emily glanced at Dick's face. He looked pale and worried.

“What did you tell her?”

“I said that I saw Mr. Piddington with it yesterday morning, which wasn't a lie,” Dick said. He looked Emily in the eye. “I don't like lying–especially on a Sunday.”

“Pah!” Emily said. “Sunday shmunday. You sound like Lizzie.” She gave Dick a playful nudge. “Don't you think the horrible Piddington deserves it?”

Dick had to grin in agreement.

“Besides,” Emily added. “I'm doing everyone a favor by hiding those stinky sticks.”

She and Dick wrinkled their noses and laughed. But despite her careless words, Emily felt a worm of unease squirm in her stomach.