The Black Opal (3 page)

are thousands like me feel different. It’s not right to let them come here and something should be done about it. If they come here with their clothes pegs and their bits of heather, you can give them the rough side of your tongue, Sally, and that’s what they’ll get from me.

”

Sally wisely said nothing and I put on my sullen look which was silly really because it did not help.

There was a good deal of talk about the gipsies. People were suspicious of them. They would pester, it was said, try to steal things and in their way threaten with sly hints of misfortune for those who would not buy their wares or have their fortunes told.

They made fires in the woods at night and sat round them singing. From the garden we could hear them. I thought they sounded quite melodious.

Several of the young girls in the neighbourhood had their fortunes told.

Nanny cautioned Estella to be careful.

“They get up to all sorts of tricks. They kidnap children, starve them, and make them go out selling clothes pegs. People are sorry for starving children.”

I said to Estella: That’s not true! They don’t go round stealing children. “

“No,” agreed Estella.

“They leave them under bushes for other people to look after. Of course, you would stand up for them.”

She was jealous of me, I told myself. She was two years older than I and I could read as well as she could. Besides, Uncle Toby liked me specially.

She chanted:

“My mother said that I never should Play with the gipsies in the wood.”

“And why not?” she went on.

“Because they kidnap you, steal your shoes and stockings and send you out selling clothes pegs.”

1 walked away and tried to look haughty, but 1 was i9

disturbed. I wished Uncle Toby were here. I should have liked to talk to him about the gipsies.

I was very interested in them and found it difficult to keep away from the encampment.

I was six years old at this time, but I think I might have been taken for more. I was as tall as Estella and that trait in me for asserting myself was stronger than ever. After all, I was made constantly aware that, although I was fed and clothed and shared lessons and the nursery with the children of the household, I was only there because of the charity of the doctor and his wife. So I had to show them constantly that I was as good as, if not better than, the rest of them.

I loved Sally; I was fond of Adeline and Miss Harley. I was fond of anyone who showed me kindness and, of course, I adored Uncle Toby. I seized with great eagerness on any affection which came my way because I was so very much aware of the lack of it in some quarters.

It was easy for me to slip away and I invariably made my way to the encampment. From the shelter of the trees I could look out on the caravans drawn up there without anyone’s being aware of my presence.

There were several children, brown-skinned and bare footed, who played there together and young women squatting about weaving wicker baskets and cutting wood with knives. They sang quietly and chattered as they worked.

There was one woman in particular who interested me. She was by no means young. She had thick black hair with streaks of grey in it. She always sat on the steps of a particular caravan and worked away with the rest of them. She talked a great, deal. I was too far away to hear what she said, but I did hear her singing now and then. She was plump and laughed frequently. 1 wished I knew what it was all about.

I often wondered what would have happened to me if I had not been left under the azalea bush. Should I have been one of those bare-footed children? I shuddered at the thought. Even though I was not really wanted, 1 was glad that I had gone to Commonwood House.

I was doubly grateful to the doctor for insisting that they keep me.

He didn’t really want me, of course, but perhaps he thought it was a good idea and he might not go to heaven if he sent me away. Well, I was glad that they had kept me, whatever the reason.

It was a hot afternoon. I sat among the trees and watched the gipsies, the children shouting to each other. The plump lady was on the caravan steps as usual. The basket she was weaving was on her lap and she looked as if she might be dropping off to sleep at any moment.

I thought they were less aware than usual because of the heat and that I might venture closer. I stood up abruptly and did not see the stone which was protruding from the ground. I tripped and went sprawling into the clearing.

It happened so quickly that I could not stop myself from calling out.

There was a sudden pain in my foot and I saw that there was blood on my stocking.

The children were watching me and I tried to scramble up. I gave a cry of pain, for my left foot would not support me and I fell.

The plump woman started to descend the caravan steps.

“What is it?” she cried.

“Why! It’s a little girl! Oh my! What have you done? You’ve hurt yourself, have you?”

1 looked down at the blood on my stocking. Then she was kneeling beside me while the children gathered round to look.

“Hurt there, dearie?”

She was touching my ankle and I nodded.

She grunted and turned to the children.

“Go and get Uncle Jake. Tell him to come here … quick.”

Two of the children ran off.

“Cut yourself a bit, lovey. Your leg. Not much. Still, we’ll zi

stop it bleeding. Jake ‘un be here in a minute. He’s over there . cutting wood. “

In spite of the pain in my foot and my inability to walk, I was excited. I always enjoyed escaping from the dull routine of the Uncle-Toby-less days and I was glad of a diversion of any sort. This was particularly intriguing because it was bringing me closer to the gipsies.

The two children came running back followed by a tall man with dark curly hair and gold rings in his ears: he had a very brown face, white teeth displayed by his pleasant smile.

“Oh, Jake,” said the plump woman.

“This little Miss has had a bit of a mishap.” She laughed in a silent way and one only knew she was laughing by the way in which her shoulders shook. It seemed a clever thing to have said and I smiled my appreciation of her choice of words.

“Better get her into the ‘van, Jake. I’ll put something on that wound.”

Jake picked me up and carried me across the clearing. He mounted the steps of the caravan on which the woman had been sitting, and we went inside. There was a bench on one side of the caravan and a kind of divan on the other. He laid me on this. I looked round. It was like a little room, very untidy, and on the bench were some mugs and bottles.

“Here we are,” said the woman.

“I’ll just put something on that leg.

Then we’ll see about getting you home. Where do you come from, dearie?

”

“I live at Commonwood House with Dr. Marline and his family.”

“Oh,” she said.

“Well, fancy that!” She shook as though with secret laughter.

“They’ll be worried about you, dearie, so we’d better get a message to them.”

“They won’t worry about me … not yet.”

“Oh, all right, then. We’ll get that stocking off, shall we?”

“You all right?” said Jake.

The woman nodded.

“Call you when we want you.”

“Right you are,” said Jake, grinning at me in a friendly way.

“Now then,” said the woman. I had taken off my stocking and was gazing ruefully at the blood which was oozing out of the wound.

“Wash it first,” she said.

“Here.” She indicated one of the children who had followed us into the caravan.

“Get me a basin of water.”

The child ran to do her bidding and half filled a basin, which stood on the overcrowded bench, with water from an enamel jug which also stood there.

The woman had a piece of cloth and began bathing my leg. I looked in horror at the blood-soaked rag and the reddening water in the basin.

“That’s nothing to worry about, dearie,” she said.

“That’ll soon heal.

I’ve got something to put on it. Made it myself. Gipsies know these things. You can trust the gipsy. “

“Oh, I do,” I said.

She smiled at me, flashing her magnificent teeth.

“Now, this might hurt a bit at first. But the more-it hurts the quicker it’ll get better, see?”

I said I did.

“Ready?”

I winced.

“All right? You the doctor’s little girl, are you?”

“No. Not exactly. I’m just there.”

“Staying there, are you?”

“No. I live there. I’m Carmel March.”

“That’s a nice name, dearie.”

“Carmel means garden, and that’s where they found me, and because it was March, they called me that.”

“In a garden!”

“Everyone round here knows. I was left under the azalea bush. The one that gave Tom Yardley a lot of trouble one year.

^3

The woman was staring at me in amazement and kept nodding her head slowly.

“And you live there now, do you?”

“Yes.”

“And they’re good to you?”

I hesitated.

“Sally is and Miss Harley and Adeline … and, of course.

Uncle Toby, but. “

“Not the doctor and his wife?”

“I don’t know. They don’t take much notice, but Nanny Gilroy always tells me I don’t belong there.”

“She’s not very nice, is she?”

“She just thinks I ought not to be there.”

“That don’t sound very nice to me, lovey. Now I’m going to wrap this up.”

“It’s very kind of you.”

“We’re nice people, gipsies. Don’t you believe all the things you hear people say about us.”

Oh, I don’t. “

“I can see you don’t. You’re not a bit scared of me, are you?”

I shook my head.

“You’re a brave little girl, you are. What we’re going to do is take you back. Jake will have to carry you because you can’t walk. But what we’re going to do first is give you a nice toddy, and we can have a little chat while you rest a bit. Your ankle will be all right. It’s only a sprain. It’ll hurt a bit but soon it will be well. Mustn’t walk on it yet, though. This is a drink of herbs … soothing after a shock and you’ve had one of them, dearie.”

The ‘toddy’ was rather pleasant. She watched me closely while I drank it.

“There now,” she said.

“You and me, we’ll have a little chat. You tell me about the doctor and his wife, and Nanny, and all of them. They feed you well, do they?”

“Oh yes.”

“That’s a good thing.”

She listened with great interest while I told her about Commonwood House.

“I don’t like the sound of that Nanny,” she said.

“She is supposed to be a good nanny really. It’s just that she thinks I’m not good enough to be brought up with the others.”

“And you let her know different from that, I’ll be bound.”

Her shoulders shook with laughter and I joined in. Then she said seriously: “Do you mind about that Nanny?”

“Well … yes … a bit … sometimes.”

Then I told her about Uncle Toby and her eyes shone with secret mirth.

“And he gave you the box with the monkeys. My word, he seems a nice man.”

“Oh, he is … he is.”

“And you like him and he likes you?”

“I think he likes me better than the others.”

She nodded her head and again her shoulders heaved.

“Well, dearie,” she said.

“That does not surprise me one little bit.”

It was a wonderful adventure. I liked her. She told me her name was Rosie. Rosie Perrin. Then I explained that I might have been called Rose and why.

“Fancy that!” she said.

“We should have been two blooming Rosies, shouldn’t we?”

I was rather sorry to be taken back to Commonwood House.

There was some consternation when Jake arrived with me in his arms.

“Little Miss has had a fall,” he explained to Janet, the housemaid who opened the door to him.

Janet didn’t know what to do, so Jake stepped into the hall.

“She can’t walk,” said Jake.

“I’d best take her to her bed.”

He followed Janet up the stairs to the nursery quarters. Nanny was horrified.

“My patience me!” she said.

“What next?”

“Little maid’s had a fall in the woods,” Jake explained.

“Can’t stand on her feet. I’ll put her on her bed.”

Sally was there, round-eyed and curious, watching while I was laid on my bed. Then Janet conducted Jake down stairs and the storm broke.

“What on earth did you think you was up to … bringing gipsies into the house?” demanded Nanny.

“She couldn’t walk,” said Sally.

“He had to carry her.”

“I never heard the like. What were you up to? In the woods, were you?

With the gipsies? “

I said: “They found me when I fell over. They were very kind to me.”

“Kind, my foot! They’re always out to get what they can from gentlefolk.”

“They didn’t get anything. They gave me a toddy.”

“What next? What next? I shall go straight down to the mistress and tell her what’s happened.”

The result was a visit from the doctor. Nanny was standing there, her lips tight, her eyes accusing me. The doctor scarcely spoke to her. I had the idea he did not like Nanny very much. He smiled at me rather nicely, I thought.

“Well,” he said.

“What have you been doing?”

“I fell over in the woods,” I told him.

“The gipsies found me. One of them gave me a toddy and put stuff on my leg with a bandage.”

“Well, let’s have a look at it, shall we? Does it hurt?”

“Not now. It did.”

He touched my ankle.

“You’ve strained it,” he said.

“Twisted it a bit. No real damage done.

You must let it rest for a few days. ” He took off the bandage and said, ” H’m, That’s all right,” he went on.

“Let’s keep the bandage on for a while. This will do for now.” He tied it up deftly and gave me that nice gentle smile.

“Not much harm done,” he added reassuringly.

“She shouldn’t have been in the woods,” said Nanny.

“Bringing those people into the house.”