Silver (6 page)

“
Ah, thank you Stokes’ he accepted his glass. ‘Is John home?”

“
You’ve just missed him. He has gone to Kings Cross. We thought it best in the circumstances to send the boys back to the country.”

“
Of course. As you see fit. I really do need to see both of you. Shall he be long?”

       
My ears filled with a faraway rushing as my heart beat loudly. Geoffrey had some more news and, by the look on his face, it was not good.

“
He should be back within the hour. Of course you can wait but please tell me what it is Geoffrey. I cannot bear it.”

       
He looked up at me, immediately anxious at the distress in my voice. I knew the colour had drained from me and my already gaunt face must have seemed quite pale.

“
Oh good Lord, Imogen. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It is nothing unusual in the circumstances. Although in the circumstances all must be considered quite unusual...” He leaned forward quickly setting his glass down before resuming his muddled speech. ‘That is to say, of course, I am naturally shocked by the circumstances and.....’ The old man looked at me, appealing for some assistance as he struggled to find the words. He was an astute and confident man and I was astonished by this rather guarded display. He glanced towards Stokes and I understood a little of his predicament.

“
That will be all thank you Stokes. You may leave us.”

       
The butler gave nothing away in his expression as he inclined his head with a polite ‘Madam’ and reversed out of the room. Geoffrey had taken out his handkerchief and was now stood mopping his brow and, if I was not mistaken, his eyes.

“Forgive me, Imogen. I cannot begin to tell you how upsetting all of this is but of course…”’ He looked at me with another apology fresh on his lips, a slightly embarrassed expression that he should forget my own grief.

“
Geoffrey, I can’t thank you enough for your kind words but please tell me what you have come to say. I must hear it now. Please.”

       
He nodded and sat down once again, leaning forward slightly so that he could keep his voice low.

“
There is to be a coroner’s inquiry tomorrow morning. The police have submitted a report to the coroner, who is to perform a post mortem. Your father was not so very old and it is likely that his death was a coronary disease. As you will know, he suffered from palpitations of the chest and he was receiving some treatment from a doctor in Belgravia.”

       
This was news indeed to me. I had not known that my father was anything but in perfect health. I had not known my father to be anything but my father though and how wrong that assumption proved to be. I could only listen as Geoffrey continued.

“
In the circumstances, it is not the death itself which they are trying to determine but of course, given the nature of the.....facts of the case.....as they stand......” Once again, Geoffrey’s characteristic assuredness faltered as he struggled to find the words, if indeed they existed in his mind. “Imogen, what I am trying to say is that they are trying to prove, for the purposes of the death certificate and for the Will, your father’s true biological gender.”

       
He had said it and, once out, the statement seemed to suck all other sounds from the room leaving only that word.  There were many questions, not least of which I wanted to know where and when this inquiry was being held. The post mortem? Had that already been carried out? Didn’t I or John have to have given our consent to that? I wasn’t sure what they would be subjecting him to but the image once more of my father being pinned to a table like the subject of a science experiment swam before me and I felt giddy and sick. I pushed all of the questions to the back of my mind and asked the one thing upon which I could feel solid.

“What do you think?”

Geoffrey levelled his gaze at me and fixed me with his most assured stare.

“
Your father was a good and decent man Imogen. Nothing will change that.”

       
The pain behind my eyes that had been raging all day, momentarily burst forth leaving only a numb feeling, and I closed my eyes gripping the bridge of my nose as if that were the only way of holding on to some truth. John would say a few hours later that it was the lack of food and sleep that caused me to slip off my chair in the parlour and crumple to the floor in front of Geoffrey Leech. No doubt, he would also feel that the solicitor should not have told me any of the details about the Coroner’s Inquiry and he was partly to blame for my distress. However, I firmly believe that a person’s brain is only capable of simple truth and, quite unable to deal with the truth as it was unfolding; I had simply abandoned thinking about it at all.

“Avery?”

       
The sound of Kate’s voice seemed further away than the few feet she was. The familiar dressing screen had been drawn across the middle of the room, whilst Avery had begun imbuing the flat, lifeless clothes that had been smuggled into Cornwall Gardens only a few hours ago, with the life Avery intended for them. Kate’s voice seemed tentative as if she were unsure of who else might be lurking behind the screen besides her mistress. Avery finally stole a glance at the mirror he had thus far been avoiding. The effect of the clothes was at once alarming and electrifying. Fry had done a good job with the measurements. The cloth, although not the best, looked fine in the light of the room. Avery stood taller than ever in a jet black evening suit, the tails of the coat accentuated his natural height and the style was very forgiving across his hips which, although slight, now appeared almost invisible. The crisp white shirt collars stood up at his neck and his shoulder length dark hair had been lacquered and swept backwards. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he cocked his head to one side and thought how odd it was that he had not seen it before. His hair had always been untidy but the untidiness was a perfect imitation of the confident young men around Covent Garden. There was roguishness about them and Avery recognized it in himself too. His shoulders, naturally broad for a woman carried the jacket well and the flat line of the shirt that hung smoothly below his neck disguised his breasts, which were bound tightly to his chest. The effect of this created a defined and well-muscled tone. He smiled with relief.

“
Avery? Do you need some help?”

“
No!” he replied, curtly.

        T
he darkened room absorbed the sound of their voices, leaving an oppressive silence into which Kate issued an audible sigh. Avery adjusted his position so that he could see the profile of Kate in a corner of the mirror as she sat upon the edge of his bed. The lamplight from the walls flickered as the gas waned; although it did this frequently as other lamps were drawn in other rooms, Kate jumped. The shadows from behind the screen seemed to shrink before leaping upwards again, as the light returned to its previous glow. He watched as she leant back on her hands upon his bed, seemingly comfortable to wait a while longer. He wondered what she would think when he stepped from behind the screen. When she had arrived with the clothes that afternoon, she had seemed almost as excited as he had been but he wondered whether he had mistaken his own eagerness with her anxiety. The room was warm and the lamplight soothing and he watched as she bent her head to examine her hands. The skin on the back of them was rough and defied her youth. Although the tips of her fingers had long since stopped puckering from her hard labour, they had instead developed the tell-tale rough calluses of domestic service. He briefly considered the sum he had just spent on clothes he perhaps could not wear outside the walls of the house and wondered if Kate herself would ever be able to afford some kid gloves with which to conceal her hands. He wondered if she would accept them as a gift from him.

“
Well?” The sound of his own voice startled him and Kate looked up in surprise. As she did so, she could not stop the involuntary intake of breath that escaped her. Her reaction was simple.

“
Oh my God!”

       
There passed a few awkward moments of silence before Kate could add any more; all the while, Avery watched her earnestly, self-consciously awaiting her approval. The young girl looked quite pale and confused beneath her beaming smile.

“
I can’t believe how well it fits. I mean I can believe it of course, I see so with my own eyes but…I just thought it wouldn’t look so well on you. I mean, your clothes always look well on you Miss, I mean, Sir. I mean you always look fine but these make you look even finer.” She looked embarrassed as, in the search for the right words, she found the perfect ones. She blushed.

“
Just tell me what you think Kate. Honestly,” he added, grinning.

“
Turn around,” she instructed, her head cocked to one side as she considered him more critically.

       
Now it was Avery’s turn to blush and he revolved slowly, holding his arms out to the sides avoiding her gaze, which had turned more serious.

“
Well?” Avery asked again.

       
Kate narrowed her gaze and searched his face, as if truly understanding for the first time what Avery hoped to achieve from this whimsy. Her voice, when it came, was deliberate as if stating a fact she had only just found to be true.

“
You look just like a gentleman.”

       
Her tone troubled him and Avery held her gaze trying to determine how what the young girl was feeling. It was important that she remain in his confidence and above all, that she was not spooked by this queer turn of events. The gas jets hissed again and the light danced across the room. It was enough to break the spell. Kate looked to the door and looked reassured as she noted the bolt drawn tightly across.

“
It fits you very well, Miss,” she offered again quietly, not looking directly at him.

       
Avery felt bolder; there was something in the way that she had been looking at him that made him feel taller, a look that had not been there when he had been dressed as a woman. It was as though the clothes, rather than concealing more of him, had revealed another side to him; a hungrier side, a side that was more at home in its own skin.

“
Kate?” Avery’s voice was husky as he tried to lower the register in which he spoke.

       
The girl looked up nervously and her face was once more wide with wonder at the sight of a man stood in her mistress’ bedroom.

“
If you call me Miss one more time, I shall have to report you to your mistress.” A broad grin crackled across his lips as he spoke and Kate released a suppressed giggle, throwing a cushion at Avery’s head.

“Yes S
ir!”

~o~

Toby Silver had left for the evening for a dinner at Mrs. Fearncott’s. Avery had taken supper and indicated to Kate that he would probably have an early night as he was suffering from a headache. With the rest of the staff downstairs availing themselves of the break with an unexpected night off, Kate had gone up ahead to make ready his clothes and prepare an escape route. As Avery mounted the stairs hurriedly and reached the door to his own room, he stopped to consider the consequences of what he was about to do. What had seemed yesterday a private and thrilling secret, was now on the cusp of becoming something altogether more dangerous. Avery was unsure what excited him the most, the risk that he was running at discovery or the fact that his secret would no longer be his alone. At the thought of the way Kate had looked at him, his heart seared hot in his chest and he flushed just thinking of it. He wanted to be looked upon by the world as she had done, with recognition and maybe desire. He turned the handle and slipped inside the room.

“
It is only me… Kate?” Avery whispered in to the gloom.

       
The young girl said nothing but held out the crisp shirt as she stood waiting to dress him.

“
I think I’d rather dress myself. If you don’t mind,” he added.

       
Kate looked a little hurt.

“
I thought it would save time if I helped you.”

       
Avery wondered why it mattered to him that he dress himself, after all hadn’t Kate been helping him dress for the last three months? Why should it matter? Hadn’t she seen every part that he despised? Perhaps it was for this very reason, that for the first time, when he was dressed in these clothes, there was a part of his outer self he no longer despised.

“
I will dress myself,” he repeated.

       
Kate lowered her eyes; her jaw set upon many objections over which she now chewed and handed over the shirt. Twenty minutes later, Avery stepped out from the screen and looked again at his reflection in the mirror. The dull glow of the lights cast a shadow around his face highlighting hollows of his cheekbones and the angular set of his jaw. As he admired his reflection, Kate stepped behind him.

“
Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.

“
Are you sure
you
want to do this?” Avery replied, turning to face her.

       
Kate bit her lip and, closing one eye, squinted at Avery through the other, one half of a smile formed on her lips as she tried to contain her nerves. Just as a cat that would pounce on his prey, Avery stepped forward in the split second it took for Kate to nod her head and planted a grateful and excited kiss full on her forehead.

“
I shall be back within the hour. I will pass the house once and then wait in the square for your signal, just like we agreed?”

       
Kate’s eyes widened at his bold kiss and she touched a hand to her mouth before nodding her assent. A few moments later, they had descended the main staircase, Kate in the front and Avery scuttling between landings and doorways like a burglar. Had anyone have encountered him, they would no doubt have smashed a lamp over his head believing him to be pursuing her down the stairs. Had the danger of his discovery not been so very real, the absurdity would have made him burst out laughing. As she reached the front door and opened it with a click, the faint ambience of the evening noise of the city burst forth. Avery’s heart gave a great lurch of fright as the danger of it all became suddenly obvious. What looked acceptable within these four walls would of course be ridiculous in the plain eyes of the world beyond the front door. Avery froze on the threshold and considered retreat.

“
Good evening to you, Sir,” Kate offered loudly and all but pushed him out of the door.

~o~

That first evening Avery had been too self-conscious to enjoy the feeling of his new-found freedom. Surrounded by familiar houses and streets, he had been convinced of discovery. Faces seemed to loom from the windows that he passed in abject horror and he had started to act furtively. He had drawn himself away from the light and skirted the shadows, keeping his head low and his shoulders rolled forwards to hide his features. This sort of activity had only drawn more attention to him and a few pedestrians had eyed him longer than most trying to divine his intentions. After only half an hour, he had returned home, where an ashen faced Kate admitted him entry as though he were the devil himself.

“
Well,” she had probed him when they were safely concealed within his bedroom. “Did nobody recognise you?”

       
Avery had remained silent, half ashamed by his lack of nerves and the other half disappointed that he felt no different.

“
I hope you aren’t going to make a habit of this. My nerves won’t stand it. You were only gone a minute when I thought I heard your father come back. I reckon I stopped breathing. I almost ran down the stairs and out the back door never to come back...”

       
Her voice had trailed off as Avery had whipped around and grabbed at her wrists firmly.

“
Kate, promise me you won’t leave.” He knew that he needed her. It was true, he needed her help to execute that evenings outing but more than that, she was the only one to whom he could acknowledge this secret inside of him. She had been surprised by his earnest appeal and had considered him a few moments before assuring him.

“
I promise I won’t leave.” She had smiled at him and returned to the business of brushing down the jacket that he had removed.

       
As Avery listened to Kate’s busy voice, as she concealed his discarded clothes, he knew that there would certainly be repeats of that evening. His disappointment was already waning and he realised he would need to go further abroad in the city to fully escape his self-consciousness and the prospect of discovery.

       
When he ambled down Jermyn Street several weeks later, he was well practiced in his casual walk. The set of his face was a rehearsed look of assurance. He knew from hours spent in front of a mirror how he looked from all angles and he was confident of the smiles he bestowed on passers-by. With his father out most evenings courting the widow Fearncott, he was at liberty at least two or three evenings a week to spread his wings and fly free in the broad city. After each outing, he returned to Kate’s worried face and, whilst she de-constructed his façade, berating him a little more each time with how long he had been gone, Avery analysed his performance and made mental notes about changes he should make to his attire, to his mannerisms or his posture. Thus far, he had restricted himself to merely walking the city streets, watching other gentlemen, nodding or tipping his hat to the odd stranger but one night, he had stumbled across a pub in Westminster and been emboldened by the inviting glow to step inside. He had fallen to idle chat with a few young graduates, Bateman and Goodwin. They had got along very well and Avery had agreed to meet them again for a repeat of the entertainment.