Lottie Project (21 page)

He had many more goes. And I went on some other rides too, but somehow they all seemed a waste of time. My whole head was hurting now, not just my nose. Sometimes I went on the rides with
Mark
while Jo looked after Robin. Sometimes I went on the rides with Jo. That wasn’t any better, because we weren’t speaking.

Then we got to the Stardust Sparkle ride. It was all pink glitter and hearts and flowers outside.

‘That’s pretty,’ said Robin.

‘Pretty yucky,’ I said.

‘Would you like to go on the Stardust Sparkle ride, Robin?’ said Jo. ‘We could all go on it, eh?’

Robin watched the ride warily. A couple got into a pink pretend Cadillac and it drove through a door in the shape of a big heart. You couldn’t see inside the door. It was all dark.

‘No,’ said Robin. ‘Too dark. I don’t like the dark.’

‘Surprise surprise,’ I said. ‘Well,
I
certainly don’t want to go on the Stardust Sparkle ride either, if anybody’s interested. Not that anyone is.’

‘I’d like to,’ said Mark. ‘Come on, Jo.’

I stared at her. But she didn’t even look at me. ‘Look after Robin, Charlie,’ she said, and she rushed off with Mark.

The two of them together. In a pink Cadillac. Disappearing through a big heart into the dark.

‘They’ve gone,’ said Robin.

‘Too true,’ I said.

‘They’ll be back soon?’ Robin asked.

‘How should I know?’ I said.

The ride was mostly enclosed, but the first couple’s Cadillac suddenly shot through a door overhead and rode through the air in full view of
everyone
for several seconds. The couple didn’t seem to realize. They were kissing.

‘Look!’ said Robin, giggling.

The first couple disappeared through another dinky door. We waited for the second couple. We waited a long time, and then suddenly they burst through the overhead door. They rode through the air in full view of everyone. They didn’t realize either. They were kissing.

‘Look!’ said Robin, giggling again. And then
he
realized. ‘It’s Daddy and Jo!’

I didn’t say anything. My nose was still hot but the rest of me had turned icy cold.

‘But they were kissing. Why were they kissing? They don’t kiss,’ said Robin, sounding perplexed. He rubbed Birdie’s wing against his cheek like a cuddle blanket.

‘Looks like they certainly do kiss,’ I said. ‘So there you go, Robin. Your dad. And my mum. Well, he’s not going to be my dad. And she’s not going to be
your
mum.’

‘I’ve got a mum,’ said Robin.

‘Yes, but she doesn’t want you any more, does she?’ I said.

‘Yes, she does,’ said Robin uncertainly. ‘Daddy said. It’s just her new man who doesn’t want me.’

‘Well, my mum’s obviously got herself
her
new man. So she doesn’t want me. And your dad’s got himself his new lady. So he won’t want you either now. Tough, isn’t it?’

It made the pain ease just a little if I made Robin
smart
too. His face crumpled as he clutched Birdie. I started to get scared.

‘Hey, don’t cry again. I was only joking,’ I said.

But we both knew I’d been serious.

SUNDAY

SUNDAY IS MEANT
to be a day of rest. Well, ha ha. There’s no rest as far as I’m concerned. Baby Freddie wakes up screaming just the same as always and I have to crawl out of my warm bed and change his napkins and give him his bottle, and by the time he’s settled Louisa comes trailing in clutching her doll and Victor leaps up and starts bouncing on his bed in his nightgown and I have to do my best to quieten them, because it’s Sunday.

They have to wear their Sunday best, even the baby, and by the time I’ve got all three laced and buttoned and booted, my chilblains throb so bad I can barely do up my own clothes. It’s my Sunday best too, though my hideous servant uniform is nothing to show off about. We all have to go to church after breakfast. Louisa and Victor are supposed to sit still in the pew, but of course they swing their legs and nudge each other and
giggle
and
I
get the blame. If Freddie cries the Master and Mistress glare at me and expect me to stop him – but if he really gets going then I’m allowed to take him out of the church to carry him around outside. When the Vicar is droning on and on I sometimes feel like giving baby Freddie a sly pinch just to escape!

We were never really church folk at home. When Father was alive us children were sent off to Sunday School every week – but I think that was just so Mother and Father had a bit of peace and quiet without us. I liked Sunday School well enough, because you were given a book every year if you attended regularly. I liked singing the hymns too, though the words sometimes made me ponder. ‘All things bright and beautiful’ is pretty enough, but I do not care for the part where it says God made us high or lowly and each to our estate. In other words, us servants must know our place. Fiddlesticks!

I talked about this with Mrs Angel and Eliza when we were having a cup of cocoa together at the end of the long day. Eliza giggled but Mrs Angel was shocked. She said I was being bad and blasphemous and shooed me out of her kitchen. But Mrs Angel was in a bad
mood
anyway because she was so tired. Sunday is such a long boring day that everyone wants to eat all the time and she is forever serving meals, her huge roast beef and Yorkshire, with three puddings to follow, and scarcely have they eaten the last morsel than they’re ringing the bell for afternoon tea.

The children are bored silly too, because they are not allowed to play with their usual toys. I am supposed to lock away Louisa’s favourite doll and bring out her grand Sunday doll with her golden curls and cream silk clothes from France. Louisa admires this doll but does not dare carry her around for fear of mussing her. Victor is not allowed to play any rumbustious boys’ games. He is supposed to occupy himself with a suitable Sunday story book, all instruction and no adventures. Victor finds this very dull fare.

It is usually easy to get the children to go to bed on Sundays because they are so eager for it to change to Monday!

I have been tormented these last few Sundays thinking of Mother. Mr Higgins closes the Dog and Duck on a Sunday. I have a terrible feeling that they might be stepping out together. I shall not be able to bear it if Mr Higgins becomes my new father. I did not care for my old father, but I shall care for this one even less.