Sapphire Battersea (6 page)

‘We will always remember
you
,’ said Matron Pigface Peters. ‘You are undoubtedly the wildest and most wilful girl we have ever had in our care.’

‘You will come down to earth with a bump once you’ve had a taste of the working world outside,’ said Matron Bottomly. ‘Beware, Hetty Feather! If you stick to your sulky ways, you will be dismissed for insolence, without a character, and
then
where will you be?’

‘Following in the footsteps of your mother, I dare say,’ said Matron Peters, and they both sniggered.

‘I’ll thank you not to bad-mouth my mother,’ I said. ‘I don’t have to listen to either of you ever again. I shall be off now. Goodbye.’

‘Goodbye and good riddance!’ they said in
unison
, like Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Nurse Winnie had read us the two
Alice
books in her sewing class when I was little.

They accompanied me along the landing and down the stairs. Nurse Winnie came running up. She took no notice of either matron and threw her arms around me.

‘Good luck, little Hetty! I can’t believe it’s fourteen whole years since I held you in my arms and tried to comfort you. I’ve never known a babe scream so much! But I knew even then that you were a very special child, and would go far.’

‘Oh, dear Nurse Winnie! Thank you so much for being so very kind to me over the years. I will never forget you,’ I said, suddenly close to tears.

‘Come
along
, Nurse Winterson. There’s no need to single the girl out. She has a high enough opinion of herself already,’ Matron Pigface snapped.

‘It seems to me you thoroughly spoiled her and ruined her character when she was in the junior school,’ said Matron Bottomly. ‘It was very hard for me to make a serious impression on such an imp of Satan. You must heed the warnings of the Good Book, Nurse Winterson – spare the rod and spoil the child.’

‘That’s nonsense!’ I cried. ‘Nurse Winterson is the only nurse here who shows us real love and care. That’s the only way any of us have thrived in
this
grim prison!’

‘Hush your mouth, Hetty Feather! How dare you talk to us like that!’

‘I dare say anything I wish, because neither of you have any power over me any more,’ I declared.

‘Don’t be so sure of that! We will be checking up on you vigorously. If you fail to please your new employer, we have the power to call you back to the hospital to retrain you,’ Matron Bottomly threatened.

That certainly unnerved me! I didn’t want to risk going to Mr Buchanan’s now. I’d start afresh, where no one could keep track of me. I wasn’t going to be Hetty Feather any more. I was Sapphire Battersea, only child of dear Ida. I would show these pig-faced stinking matrons. I would make my own way in the world, no matter what. I had to make a bolt for it now.

But my spirited plans were instantly thwarted. There was a strange woman lurking in the entrance hall – strange to me, and certainly strange in appearance. She was a very
large
woman. She made even Matron Pigface Peters appear sylph-like. She was dressed in a bizarre dark-red costume that made her resemble an immense slab of bloody meat. She wore a bonnet to match, trimmed with white, like mutton chops with paper frills. I stared at her in astonishment. She seemed equally
bewildered
by me.

‘This scrawny little creature cannot possibly be Hetty Feather!’ she said, hands on her hips. ‘I thought you said she was fourteen and a good strong girl? This child is barely ten – and her arms and legs look as if they should be in a box of Bryant and May.’

‘This is Hetty Feather, ma’am, and her fourteenth birthday was three full months ago – isn’t that correct, Hetty?’

I hesitated. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t like the look of this great meaty woman at all. I felt a further few weeks in the hospital might even be preferable. What was she doing here? Why had
she
come to fetch me? Where was Mr Buchanan?

‘I thought I was going to be Mr Buchanan’s servant,’ I mumbled.

‘Indeed you are, child.
If
you are of age.’

‘Speak up, Hetty, and reassure the lady. You’ve never held your tongue for long previously,’ said Matron Bottomly.

‘I’m fourteen. I’ve always been very small.’

‘With carrot-coloured hair too! I hope you don’t have a temper to match. Lord knows why we’ve been lumbered with you,’ said the meaty one, giving me a prod in the chest. ‘Come along then, child. We’ve got quite a journey ahead of us.’

‘Goodbye, Hetty Feather. Try your hardest to be
dutiful
and diligent. Might I suggest, ma’am, that you treat her severely right from the start. She has wild ways,’ said Matron Bottomly.

‘Frankly speaking, she could do with a good whipping every now and then,’ said Matron Peters.

I glared at them. My lips were pressed tight together. I wouldn’t even say goodbye. I clutched my box in both hands. My heart was beating fast. I decided to run for it the moment the great door was opened, but the large woman seized me by the shoulders, her fat fingers digging into my flesh, kneading me like bread. She marched me down the long pathway to the outside gate. I twisted my neck to look one last time at the hospital where I had been locked up for so long. I stared at the barred attic window and saw a ghost of myself looking down.

I shivered in the cold air because I didn’t have any kind of mantle or shawl.

‘Ah, you’re not quite so bold now!’ said Mistress Meat. ‘You’re quivering like a jelly in a mould.’

‘I am simply a little cold, ma’am,’ I answered, my chin up – but she only laughed at me.

She called to the porter at the gate. ‘Is that hansom cab still waiting? Come along, Hetty Feather – he’ll be charging us a fortune as it is.’

She hustled me through the gate towards a horse and cab. I couldn’t help feeling a little thrill
of
excitement at the thought of such a journey. She pushed me up inside the cab and followed me close, spreading her dark-red skirts all around me. I had a glimpse of her legs in pink silk stockings, like vast pork sausages. I wriggled away as far as possible in such an enclosed space, while the driver above us clicked to his horse. As it started trotting I heard shouting. I couldn’t make out the words clearly, but I was almost sure that someone was calling my name.

I struggled round, half hanging out of the cab window, and saw a young man in brown corduroy running after us, waving his arms and shouting.

‘Sit
down
, miss! You don’t want to tumble out and break your head,’ said the meaty one.

‘But that man is calling me! He’s waving as if he knows me,’ I said, bewildered. ‘Please let’s stop the cab and see what he wants.’

‘Don’t be so silly, child. We’re not stopping the cab for you to chatter with any Tom, Dick or Harry. We have work to do! I came to fetch you out of kindness, in case you were confused on the journey – but I shall be terribly behind all day long now.’

She commanded the driver to get a move on. We soon rounded the corner of the street, going at such a pace that there was no way the young man could catch us.

Whoever could it have been?

I LOOKED LONG
and hard at the meaty woman as we rode along together, squashed up like two pigs in a poke.

‘Why are you staring at me? Have I got a smut on my face?’ she asked.

‘No, ma’am. I was just wondering who you are,’ I said truthfully. ‘What is your name?’

‘I am Mrs Briskett,’ she said, announcing her name as proudly as if she were the Queen of England.

Mrs Briskett? Wasn’t brisket a type of beef? Oh, what a glorious name for this great bovine woman! I felt the most insistent giggles tickling my inside. I had to clench my teeth and suck my cheeks to stop myself erupting. I set myself to thinking why she was a Mrs Briskett. If she was Mr Buchanan’s wife, why did she not bear his name? Was she perhaps a neighbour of his, come to fetch me as a favour?

‘Excuse me, ma’am, but do you live at Mr Buchanan’s house?’

‘Of course I do, you silly girl.’

‘And – and
Mr
Briskett?’

‘There is no Mr Briskett. It is a courtesy title,’ she said.

I thought on. I remembered all the cook’s
Police Gazettes
I had secretly read at the hospital.

‘Then are you – are you under Mr Buchanan’s protection?’ I asked.

I thought I’d asked the question delicately, but she coughed and spluttered, her face flushing darker than her bonnet.

‘How
dare
you suggest such a thing! I can’t believe my own ears!’

‘I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to cause offence. I didn’t understand. I simply thought—’

‘I am Mr Buchanan’s cook-housekeeper,’ said Mrs Briskett. ‘I cannot
imagine
how you could possibly have dreamed otherwise. However, you are a poor ignorant orphan, Hetty Feather, so I suppose you simply do not know any better.’

‘Oh no, I’m not an orphan, ma’am. I have a very dear mother, Ida Battersea. In fact, I’m not really called Hetty Feather at all – that was just the name the Foundling Hospital inflicted on me. My name is Sapphire Battersea. Please may I be called by that name? It could be my courtesy title.’

‘
Sapphire?
What kind of ungodly, fanciful name is that for a little servant girl? Don’t be ridiculous,
child
. Were you christened when you arrived at the Foundling Hospital as a babe?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘And what name did they christen you?’

I took a deep breath. ‘Hetty Feather, but—’

‘No buts! That is your name, and you will not be known by any other. Sapphire indeed!’

Yes, Sapphire, Sapphire, Sapphire
, I said silently inside my head.
It is a beautiful name and it is
my
name, and you can ‘Hetty Feather’ me a thousand times a day, but I know my
real
name now and you cannot take it away from me
.

‘I don’t care for that expression on your face, Hetty. I hope you are not a sullen girl. Do you realize how lucky you are to be given this opportunity?’

I felt like the least lucky girl in all the world, but I rearranged my face into an ingratiating smile and nodded vigorously. It was clear that Mrs Briskett had a quick temper and her fingers seemed as sharp as meat hooks. I was sure my shoulders were all covered over with bruises.

The horse slowed down and stopped, and Mrs Briskett nudged me to climb out of the cab. We were in front of a vast, imposing building, practically as big as a palace. It seemed dimly familiar.

‘Is this Mr Buchanan’s house?’ I asked doubtfully.

‘Dear goodness, how can you be so stupid, child? This is Waterloo Station! We are continuing our journey by train.’ She paused, then said slowly, as if speaking to a simpleton, ‘A train is a huge carriage with a massive engine at the front, powered by steam.’

‘I know what a train is, Mrs Briskett,’ I said with some satisfaction. ‘I travelled in one when I left my foster home in the country.’

She snorted. ‘You must have been only five or so at the time. I doubt you can remember anything about it.’

‘Indeed I can! I remember it all very vividly,’ I said. ‘Mother took Gideon and me, and we were so sad. My dearest brother Jem came with us to the station, and he told me to be a good brave girl, and he promised he would come and fetch me home one day–’ And then I stopped and moaned as if in pain.