Emily's Dream (8 page)

Dick had made his way back downstairs. He, Emily and Alice sat reading in the sitting room, while Dede played hymns on the drawing room piano and Lizzie sang along. The music was sober and heavy as it vibrated through the house, but it was also familiar and comforting.

Feeling in good spirits, Emily put her book down suddenly and ran lightly up the stairs to her room. She came back down, carefully carrying the canary's cage. She placed it on the small table between her chair and the window and sat back down with her book. Both Alice and Dick looked up and smiled. It had been a while since Emily had brought the bird down to join them. Soon the canary's whistling voice was joining in with the piano, adding a more cheerful melody to the booming chords.

It was almost time for bed when Emily heard the carriage pull up in front of the house and the front door open. The memory of the Piddingtons and the cigarette case crashed down on her like a sour piano chord. She'd have to wait until they were
out of the hallway before she could sneak past them and up to bed. She wanted to be far away when Mr. Piddington discovered the case under the chair.

The next morning it was obvious that the case had not yet been discovered. Mr. Piddington was making plans to head into town to buy more cigarettes as soon as the shops were open. How was Emily going to get him to find the case before he went out?

“Milly!” Alice called. “Are you ready to leave for school?”

Emily hesitated. It would be perfect if the case could be found while she was away at school. But how was she going to get someone to look for it?

Emily noticed Dede heading to the sitting room with the feather duster. Perfect. She would be making her way to the drawing room next. Maybe she'd find the case before Mr. Piddington left for the shops. But she'd be dusting the tops of things, not the bottoms. What if she didn't look under the chairs?

Emily grabbed her coat from its hook in the hallway outside the drawing room and paused in the drawing room doorway to put it on. Her eyes searched the room, unsure of what she was looking for. Then, she saw it–Dede's needlework. She glanced down the hall to make sure Dede was still out of sight and ducked into the drawing room. Carefully, she placed Dede's needlework on the floor as if it had fallen between the table and the nearby plush chair. She listened to make sure no one was coming, then she bent down and looked under the chair. The cigarette case was still there. She moved it slightly, so that it would be visible to anyone reaching down to pick up the needlework. Then she left the room and hurried to join the others leaving for school.

“You'll never guess,” said Lizzie when Emily and the others arrived home after school. “Dede was dusting in the drawing room this morning, and what do you think she found?”

“What?” Emily asked, though her heart was pounding.

“Why, Mr. Piddington's cigarette case,” Lizzie announced, sounding as pleased as if she had found it herself. “It was right under his feet all along.”

Emily and Dick exchanged a quick look.

“Oh, I am glad for Mr. Piddington,” Alice said. “He must be pleased it's been found.”

“Yes,” Lizzie said. “But he would have been more pleased if it had been found before he went out and bought another.”

Emily felt a stab of guilt. But she was distracted when Dick suddenly pulled away from them and hurried up the stairs, clutching his stomach. Alice and Lizzie paid no attention, but Emily was concerned. Was he ill?

She caught up to him at the landing at the top of the stairs.

“Dick, are you all right?” she whispered, reaching out to touch his arm.

Dick turned to her, and as his eyes met hers, his face split into a laughing grin.

“Poor Mr. Piddington!” he whispered with a puffing exhalation of breath.

 15 
Close Call

The next day, Emily walked back to the house after another happy ride with Johnny. As she opened the side door, she caught a flash of something small and yellow moving through the air in the middle of the kitchen.

“Quick Emily, shut the door!” Alice cried. “Your canary is out.”

Emily ducked into the kitchen and shut the door behind her. She looked around quickly and saw the canary flap against the window above the sink. Then, as Alice lunged toward him with her hands open, he flew up out of reach and back across the kitchen into the breakfast room.

“Stop chasing him,” Emily commanded. “He'll never settle if he's scared.”

Emily followed the bird into the breakfast room, trying to move calmly, so that she wouldn't frighten him further. Inside her chest, her heart was jumping. What if she had let the canary out when she opened the door to come in? What if he'd flown away and been lost?

“I'll close the door to the hall and get his cage,” Emily told Alice. “If we can keep him in this room, and he calms down, he might just fly back into the cage.”

Emily slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She sprinted down the hall and started up the stairs to her bedroom. Dede stuck her head out of the drawing room.

“Slow down, Emily,” she hissed.

Emily ignored her sister, hitched up her skirt and took the stairs two at a time. She skidded to a stop in the middle of the bedroom floor. Where was the birdcage?

Emily began to clatter back down the stairs, but Dede stood near the bottom of
the stairs, hands on her hips, her mouth a thin angry line. Emily slowed.

“It's my canary,” she told Dede, hoping Dede would understand the urgency of the situation. “He got out, and I'm trying to find his cage.”

“The cage is in the sitting room,” Dede said grimly. “Perhaps if you kept better track of where you left your creature in the first place, he wouldn't have gotten out.”

Emily didn't bother to argue with Dede. She hurried to the sitting room and found the cage sitting on the table by the window. What did it matter where she left the bird, as long as he was in his cage and the cage door was shut? She always left the cage door closed securely. The only way the canary could have gotten out is if someone had opened the door when she was out riding Johnny.

Emily carried the cage to the breakfast room and knocked lightly on the door.

“Alice, it's me. Is it safe to open the door?” The door opened a crack, and Alice waved Emily inside the room.

“He's sitting on top the cupboard,” Alice whispered, pointing.

Emily set the cage down in the middle of the breakfast table and faced the open cage door toward the canary. Then she refilled the bird's water dish.

“I'll just go out quickly and pick some of his favorite weed, and then maybe we can lure him back to the cage,” she told Alice.

It didn't take Emily long to find a sprig of the yellow flowering plant. She reentered the room cautiously and made her way back to the table. The bird was still sitting on top of the cupboard. He cocked his head sideways at her approach and began to preen his feathers.

Emily set the weed inside the cage and gestured for Alice to stay back. She whistled softly. The bird stopped his preening and looked up. He gave a tentative return twitter. Then he raised his wings and launched himself off the cupboard straight for the open cage door.

“Can we be of help?” The breakfast room door burst open, and Mr. Piddington's voice boomed into the small room. Mrs. Piddington
followed him, leaving the door open wide behind her.

The startled canary changed direction midair, flew over the human heads, through the open door and into the hallway beyond. Mrs. Piddington screeched and waved her handkerchief above her hair.

“You did that on purpose!” Emily accused as she brushed by the grinning Mr. Piddington and followed the yellow blur of feathers into the hall.

“I'm sorry,” Mr. Piddington said, sounding more amused than regretful. “I guess our timing was a bit off.”

Emily rounded the corner just in time to see the canary veer away from the closed front door, turn sharply and sail up the stairs. Emily returned to the breakfast room and grabbed the cage.

“And stay out of the way!” she ordered the others as she rushed back out, but she kept the words under her breath, knowing Dede was near.

Sure enough, Dede appeared in the drawing room doorway as Emily hurried by.

“I said slow down, Emily,” Dede warned. “It's just a canary, not a life or death emergency.”

The canary had flown right into Emily's room, and once Emily was inside with the door shut and the room quiet, it did not take long for the bird to fly back into his safe and familiar cage. Soon he was pecking happily at his dinner.

Emily collapsed onto her bed, relieved and worn out. The canary was safe. But how had he gotten out? She remembered the smug look on Mr. Piddington's face after he and his wife had opened the door and let the bird fly out. She was sure he'd done it on purpose. Had he opened the cage door as well? Emily was sure he had.

 16 
Regatta

The next week was torture. Emily yearned to get away from the house–away from the stifling rules and phony politeness, away from Dede and the Piddingtons–but she was afraid to be away one minute more than she had to be. What if she went for a ride on Johnny and came back to find the canary cage empty?

Emily felt powerless. She couldn't say anything to Dede, and she was forced to be polite to the Piddingtons or risk getting into more trouble. If she told Dede she was worried that Mr. Piddington might let the canary out, Dede would only laugh and say Emily was being ridiculous and
self-important. She couldn't very well admit to Dede that she thought he might have let the canary out the first time to get back at her for the cigarettes going missing. Even worse, Piddington knew she was trapped, and he was enjoying it.

At supper, Emily exerted the tiny bit of power she had. When she set the table, she made sure to give Mr. Piddington the ugly hand-painted cup. She relished his look of distaste as he was forced to drink out of the cup. To complain about the dishes in front of Dede, his host, would have been too rude, even for him.

Emily confided her suspicions to Dick. He was outraged and sympathetic, and he chuckled when she told him about the teacup revenge.