Page 17 of The Stranger in Room Six
Mabel allowed herself to be led away. Somehow, she told herself, she’d get to the station on the way back without anyone noticing.
‘See that cottage?’ pointed out Frannie. ‘That belongs to the lacemaker. We’re all a bit scared of her ’cos she can tell people’s futures. My mam went to her just after she married me dad and the lacemaker said she’d be getting a big surprise. Then nine months later, my big brother was born.’
Frannie’s face fell as she went on. ‘Dan’s in the army now, fighting for England. We haven’t heard anything from him for five months. My mam’s beside herself.’
‘She didn’t look upset,’ Mabel heard herself saying.
‘That’s because she hides it. You’ve got to, haven’t you? If we don’t keep going, how are we going to expect our men to do the same?’
‘My papa’s in the army,’ Mabel said proudly.
‘Everyone’s in something. At least they should be.’
‘What’s the Colonel in?’
Frannie snorted. ‘He got some dispensation apparently, so he’s not in anything. My mam reckoned he’d had enough of fighting in the last war and pulled some strings. You can do that if you’re lord of the manor.’
They rounded the corner and Mabel stopped, stunned. Before her, the sea seemed to stretch on for ever and ever.
Then Frannie proceeded to take off her clothes.
‘Someone will see you!’ cried Mabel.
‘Not likely. It’s a private beach – part of the Sinclair Estate. Your aunt owns it, doesn’t she? So we’ll be fine. Come on!’
Looking behind her to check there was no one there, Mabel found herself peeling off her dress and her camisole top and stockings and then tiptoeing in.
‘It’s freezing,’ she squealed.
Frannie chuckled. ‘Only for a minute, then you get used to it. Just dunk your shoulders under.’
Ah! Mabel’s breath was swept away for a few seconds. Then she found herself in another world. One where everything was spaceless and there was no war. No fear. No pain.
‘Can you swim?’ called out Frannie with a trace of panic, as though she should have asked earlier.
‘Papa taught me’, Mabel called back, catching up with her new friend using doggy paddle. ‘We used to go down to this spot by the Thames.’
For a minute she was back there. Mama laughing and clapping from the riverside. The gay pink and yellow parasol over a picnic of salmon sandwiches. Happier days, before anyone mentioned Mr Hitler.
Suddenly, a roar broke Mabel’s memories.
‘What in goodness’ sake do you think you’re doing? This beach is out of bounds!’
Mabel turned, terrified. It was Aunt Clarissa, hand on her hips, face red with rage.
‘But I thought it belonged to you.’
‘That still doesn’t give you any right to come down here. As for you, Frannie, you know the rules. I’d dismiss you immediately if I could find another maid. Back to the house this instant. Mabel, you’re to stay in your room until I say otherwise. I have an important phone call to take and I need some privacy.’
12
How was Mabel going to get to the station if she had to stay in her room?
Furiously, she stomped into the intimidating Red Room, with its elaborately patterned peony wallpaper and thick scarlet curtains. She stood at the window, itching to escape, until half an hour later, her aunt strode in without knocking. A pink spot was glowing on each cheek as if she was excited or agitated.
‘Did your telephone call go well?’ asked Mabel politely. She didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Aunt Clarissa again.
Her aunt’s eyes narrowed. ‘Were you eavesdropping?’
