Saddle the Wind (18 page)

The force of the blow rocked Blanche almost off balance and she reeled. Recovering herself, one hand moving involuntarily to her cheek, she gazed with stricken eyes at the governess. Then, impotent in her hurt and anger, she snatched up the embroidered linen from the table and began to wrench at it in an attempt to tear it in pieces. It wouldn’t be torn, though, and with a choking cry of fury and frustration, she drew back her hand and hurled the fabric into the governess’s face. Miss Baker gasped, recoiling in shock. Then, lashing out, she struck Blanche again, so hard this time that Blanche fell backwards onto her chair.

‘How dare you!’ the governess said, her face white with anger. ‘How dare you do such a thing!’

As Blanche faced the governess she could feel the pricking of tears in her eyes. She fought them back. She wouldn’t cry. She would
not
.

‘Now.’ Miss Baker’s voice was icy cold as she pointed down to the floor where lay the piece of embroidered linen. ‘Now come round here and pick this up.’

While Marianne, white-faced and sobbing, gazed from her friend to the governess, Blanche slowly stood up from the chair. On her cheek the marks of Miss Baker’s palm were clearly defined.

‘Now, come round here at once and pick this up,’ Miss
Baker said, pointing again at the linen. ‘And then you will apologize to me for your behaviour.’

Blanche, not moving, remained silent.

‘Did you hear what I said?’ Miss Baker asked.

Blanche said nothing.

‘Did you hear me?’ Miss Baker said.

‘Yes.’

‘Then do as I say.’

A little silence, then Blanche said:

‘No.’

There was a pause, then Miss Baker said quietly:

‘What did you say?’

‘No.’

‘Are you defying me?’

‘Yes! I’m not going to pick it up. And I’m not going to say I’m sorry. I’m
not
sorry. I’m
glad
.’ The tears sounded in Blanche’s voice now, but still she fought them back.

Miss Baker glared at her while her lips twisted in a sneer. ‘
Italian
,’ she said witheringly. ‘Miss Blanche Farrar says she wants to learn Italian. And no doubt she would like to learn French too, and German and Spanish and Russian. She’s obviously intent on travelling the world.’ Her eyes cold, she bent slightly, leaning towards Blanche. ‘You are going nowhere, little girl. Nowhere.’ Her words were measured. ‘
Nowhere
. Who do you think you are? I’ve learned a little about you and your family, and that was enough for me to know that this is as far as you’ll ever go. You were born with nothing and that’s all you’ll ever have.
Nothing
.’

‘Stop it!’ Blanche cried, and suddenly the tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks. ‘Don’t you say that to me. It’s not true. It’s
not
!’

‘Not true? Of course it’s true.’

‘
Stop it!
’

‘No, I won’t stop it. You’ll have to learn it one day, and the sooner you learn it the better.’

Choking on her sobs, Blanche cried, ‘I hate you, Miss Baker.’ Then, her voice rising, she added, ‘You’ve got frizzy red hair, and you’re ugly, and I hate you!’

White rage flashed across the governess’s face for a moment, then she gave a short, hard laugh.

‘And
you
– you come from the gutter, child – which is where you belong. You certainly don’t belong in this house, living here with Marianne, taking your lessons with her.’ Contemptuously she shook her head. ‘Mr Savill might insist that you wear as good clothes as Marianne, but don’t think for a moment that that makes you as good as she is. And it’s the same with your lessons. If I’d wanted to teach children like you I would have gone to the Ragged School. Which is where
you
should be. But, fortunately for you, Mr Savill, out of his kindness, sees it differently, and takes pity on you. And that’s all it is –
pity
. He feels pity for you. Still if that’s what he wants, then …’ She shrugged, leaving the rest of the words unspoken.

Blanche stared at her, eyes wide with horror. Miss Baker gave a little smile, then added:

‘You’ve got a shock coming to you, Miss Blanche Farrar – a very rude awakening. Someday soon you’ll be saying goodbye to this house and you’ll be going home. How shall you feel
then
?’

Speechless, Blanche gazed at her for another moment and then, with the tears streaming down her cheeks, she turned away, dashed across the room and out of the door.

John Savill was just coming from the library when he heard from above him the patter of descending feet. As he turned to the sound Blanche came running down the stairs. He waited as she reached the hall, expecting her to stop, but she did not. Without pausing she turned and ran on towards the rear of the house. She was crying. He called after her.

‘Blanche! What’s the matter?’

After a moment he crossed the hall and started in pursuit of her, making his way to the kitchen where he found Florence sitting at the table, scraping carrots. She looked round at the sound of his step.

‘It’s all right, Florence,’ he said. ‘I just looked in to see if Blanche was here. She ran by me in tears a moment ago.’

‘I heard someone go by just now, sir, though I couldn’t say who it was.’ She gestured with her knife.

He nodded, turned and left the kitchen. As he emerged into the rear passage he heard a sound from the scullery next door. The door was partly open and he moved to it and pushed it open wider. Blanche was standing by the large stone sink. Little crying sounds came from her.

‘Now, now, what’s this?’ he said.

She turned and looked at him, then turned away again, her crying growing stronger. Savill moved forward, bent to her and laid one hand on her shoulder.

‘Blanche – what’s the matter? What are you crying for?’

She shook her head.

‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’

She shook her head again.

‘– Where’s Marianne?’

She pointed up.

‘In the schoolroom?’

‘Yes.’ Her tearful voice was muffled against her arm.

‘Come on, then. Let’s go and join Marianne again, shall we?’ As he finished speaking he reached out but Blanche cried out, ‘No!’ and shrank away from him.

‘You don’t want to go back to the schoolroom?’

‘No.’

‘Will you tell me why not?’

Another shake of her head. ‘I – I can’t.’

He straightened, stood there for a moment then said, ‘Well, I’ll tell you what – you come with me into the kitchen and stay with Mrs Acklin for a minute – all right?’

She didn’t answer but allowed him to take her hand and lead her from the scullery into the kitchen. There he handed her over to Florence then went back to the front of the house and up the stairs.

At the top of the house he knocked on the schoolroom door and entered. Miss Baker looked up from her table and smiled nervously at him. He nodded to her and then his eyes went to Marianne who was sitting at the other table, bent over her school exercise book. As she looked up at him he saw that there were the marks of tears on her cheeks. He turned back to the governess.

‘Miss Baker, I just found Blanche downstairs – crying, and refusing to come back up here. And now it appears that Marianne has been crying too.’ He paused. ‘Perhaps you could tell me what’s been happening.’

‘Oh, sir,’ Miss Baker said, with a little shake of her
head, ‘I’m afraid we had a little upset, and I found it necessary to rebuke Miss Blanche.’

‘I see. What had she done?’

‘Well, sir, she refused to do her work. And in addition to that she was very rude to me. I told her that I wouldn’t stand for it.’ Then, looking over at Marianne, she added, ‘And I’m afraid Miss Marianne got rather upset at all the fuss.’ She beamed at Marianne. ‘Still, I think we’re all right now. We’ve dried our tears now.’

‘Good.’ He nodded. ‘Well, I’m sorry to have disturbed you, Miss Baker.’

‘Oh, not at all, sir. It’s time we stopped work, anyway.’ She turned to Marianne. ‘You may stop work now, Marianne, and go and wash your hands. Tea will be ready in twenty-five minutes.’

Silently Marianne put down her pencil and closed her school book. Savill held out his hand to her. Eyes downcast, Marianne got up from her seat, moved to him and took his outstretched hand. A moment later they had left the room together.

Savill took her down to the library where he sat her in a chair at the side of his desk.

‘Well,’ he said as he sat down facing her, ‘perhaps you’d like to tell me what that was all about?’

She didn’t answer at once, but then after a little prompting she gave her story.

‘And apart from striking the child, I understand you also told her that she is here only because I pity her. Is that so?’

Marianne had gone from the library and now the governess stood facing John Savill as he sat at his desk. Miss Baker said nothing for a moment to his question but then, shaking her head, she said:

‘Mr Savill, sir, I’m afraid tempers got a little frayed.
It all became rather heated and – and somewhat unfortunate.’

‘I didn’t ask you that,’ he said. ‘I asked you if it was true that you told Mrs Farrar’s daughter that she was only here owing to my pity. Did you tell her that?’

‘Mr Savill, she threw her embroidery at me. She threw it right in my face. And she was defiant. She wouldn’t do the work I had told her to do.’

‘Which was, I understand, according to my daughter, this piece of embroidery you speak of.’

‘Yes – that’s right.’

‘Whereas you were starting Marianne on Italian, I believe – beginning to teach her some Italian words. Is that correct?’

‘Yes.’

He was silent for a moment, then he said, ‘When I employed you, Miss Baker, I made it perfectly clear that Blanche was to be treated in exactly the same way as my daughter and that –’

‘Oh, but sir, I –’

He held up his hand. ‘Please, let me finish. As I said, I made it perfectly clear to you. It was not for you to decide that one child should learn one thing and the other something else.’

‘– I only did what I thought was best, sir.’

‘But I had made it clear to you.’

‘Yes, sir, I know – but I thought, in the circumstances, that I was doing what was best for her – Miss Blanche, and –’

‘Were you really thinking of Blanche, Miss Baker?’

‘I beg your pardon, sir?’

‘Judging by what I’ve been told by my daughter, it seems to me that you had no other thought in your mind but humiliating the child. If so you certainly succeeded in doing it.’

Miss Baker drew herself up a little under his cold glance. ‘Not at all, Mr Savill. As I said to you, I was merely doing what I thought was the best thing for her. If I may say so, sir, I’m not exactly – inexperienced as a governess. I’ve taught many children over the years. Children of good families, naturally. Although, I must confess, I haven’t taught any of the – the poorer children in the past, nevertheless it doesn’t take long to learn certain things about them. And with all due respect, sir, they are not like Miss Marianne. She’s a dear child, sir – sweet, clever, obliging and –’

‘Quite,’ Savill broke in. ‘But we’re not talking of my daughter.’

The governess gave a little nod. ‘No, well – the – the poorer children, the lower classes …’ She came to a stop before his penetrating gaze.

‘Yes?’ He prompted her.

‘Well – they have to know their place, sir. They have to.’

‘I see.’ He nodded. ‘You keep referring to “they”. Who exactly are “they”, Miss Baker? I take it you’re meaning Blanche.’

‘Well – yes.’ Then, taking a half step forward she went on: ‘Mr Savill, if I might say so, I do not take my position as teacher lightly. On the contrary, I take it very, very seriously. I have made studies of all the great educationalists of the past – and of their methods. And I’m quite certain that it’s a mistake to educate a person out of his class. As Mr Lowe said, “the lower classes –”’

‘Mr Lowe?’ There was a note of impatience in Savill’s voice. ‘Who is he?’

‘Mr Robert Lowe, Minister for Education under Palmerston.’

‘Oh,
that
Mr Lowe.’

‘Yes, sir. He said the lower classes “ought to be
educated to discharge the duties cast upon them”. And as a conscientious teacher I try to keep his words in mind, sir. That is one of my aims as a teacher, to fit a child for the life and the world that is before him.’ A little pause then, taking another step forward, she said, ‘Mr Savill, forgive me if this sounds impertinent, but with all due respect, I’ve known a good many more children than you have, and I tell you, sir, it is a mistake to allow one’s better nature to be – be taken advantage of.’

‘I see.’ He nodded. His expression was unreadable.

The governess ventured a little smile and shook her head. ‘Oh, I do regret very much that this has happened, sir. Believe me, I do. And I will admit that I was a little – hasty. But the child – Blanche – is very forward and extremely self-willed – traits one mustn’t give in to, of course – and I’m afraid as a result things got a little out of hand. But it’s all just a storm in a teacup, sir, that’s all. I’m quite sure that in another day or two she – Blanche – will have forgotten all about it.’

‘Really.’

At his tone Miss Baker nodded uncertainly, peering anxiously at him through her spectacles. ‘To tell you the truth, sir,’ she went on, ‘in my opinion Blanche is not – well – not the best company for Miss Marianne.’

‘Oh? Why do you say that?’ He sounded interested.

She shrugged. ‘Oh, I know there’s no denying that Blanche has a certain – cleverness, but nonetheless I don’t think she’s exactly the – the ideal company for a girl like Miss Marianne.’ She came to a stop.

‘Please – go on.’

‘Well, sir, for a start Blanche is inclined to be mischievous – and she leads Miss Marianne into things.’

‘Such as?’

‘Well, only last week, for instance, they just –
vanished from the house, right after lunch, and I found out quite by chance that they had gone down to Blanche’s home. I went after them and met them on their way back. They said they had gone to look at some rabbits belonging to one of Blanche’s brothers. I don’t mind telling you, sir, I’d been very worried.’