Читать книгу Evie’s Choice - Terri Nixon - Страница 13

Chapter Five

The train was quite full. I couldn’t even be sure Will was on it at all, and spent the entire journey in a state of agitation until I saw his dark head bobbing on the crowded platform by the second-class carriages. For the first time, I had the complete freedom to walk up to him in public, and I noticed one or two people looking twice at us and felt a second’s uncertainty, but they were only reacting to the sight of two excited youngsters and I made myself relax. The wind tugged at my hat, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before my neat curls were tumbling about my face, despite the care I had taken with them that morning; I had wanted Will to see me looking glamorous for once, instead of my usual windblown self, but he didn’t appear to even notice my efforts and I was caught between exasperation and amusement. His own dark hair was already whipped into spikes, and I hoped he would never decide to start using oils on it and tame that fresh, clean look that was so typical of him.

He took my hand and tucked it beneath his arm. ‘Where first?’

‘I am desperate to go on that captive flying machine,’ I said eagerly, pointing to the huge apparatus in the distance. ‘Ava went on it last year and screamed all the way around, so she said. Can you think of anything more exciting than screaming in public and not being glared at?’

Will laughed. ‘I might have guessed you’d make a beeline for that. Let’s go!’

I could quite see why Ava had screamed her head off. I did too, to start with, but then I just laughed, thrilled to be so high up, secured by the huge, spider-like arms that were, in turn, fixed to the central frame. Nestled against Will, his arm about my shoulder, I abandoned any attempt to hold my hat on and held it in my hand instead while we whizzed around in the chilly air, listening to the yells of the other riders.

We staggered off a little while later, still breathless and barely able to speak, but both of us grinning with delight. I put my hat back on, fiddling with the loosened hair-pins but it was a pointless exercise and Will removed it again, and bent to kiss me.

‘Now, tell me again how clever I am, and what a wonderful idea it was to come here.’

‘I suppose I could come to like it,’ I said, and ducked away as he swiped at me with my hat.

The day passed in a blur of sightseeing, paddling and funfair rides, and looking around the Winter Gardens, and eventually we even stopped looking over our shoulders. It was almost perfect. We had an early dinner then went for a walk, admiring the glittering beauty of thousands of lights against the night sky, and I finally admitted to Will that his idea was the best possible one, and that we must return to Blackpool one day soon. I had thought he might have wanted to visit his family, but the subject did not arise, and I didn’t want to make him feel obliged either to them, or to me.

The shadows lengthened and we had, by unspoken agreement, begun walking towards the train station, but I wasn’t ready to end the day yet. ‘Why don’t we see what’s showing at the theatre?’

‘We’re too late,’ he said, though reluctantly. ‘Whatever it is will have started by now.’

‘Well, there are a lot of people over there,’ I observed, pointing. A large group, mainly women, I noted, had gathered at the entrance to a small theatre across the street. ‘Perhaps there’s a late play. Come on, we can always get the last train.’

It wasn’t until we had crossed the road and were outside the theatre that we saw what had drawn the crowds, and Will frowned. ‘It’s anti-suffrage,’ he said. ‘Come on, let’s leave it.’

‘No, we’re here now. I’d like to hear what they have to say.’

‘Evie –’

‘I’m open-minded, it’s only fair,’ I pointed out. I was interested in seeing how this movement could possibly dispute the need for women’s votes; it was preposterous to think they might have a valid argument, and I knew I’d go away fully convinced of the rightness of my beliefs, but there was a sense of fair play that niggled. I wanted to hear both sides.

‘We’ll just stay for a short while,’ I promised.

‘All right. But no lecturing me on the way home,’ he warned. ‘You have a habit of preaching to the choir.’

‘No preaching,’ I said solemnly. ‘You have my word. Let’s go in.’

We were jostled on our way through, quite roughly, and seeing the purple, green and white badges and sashes I belatedly realised the majority of people were not here to listen to the speeches, but to protest them. It was tempting to tell them that I was on their side, that there was no need to shove, but Will pulled me through quickly and I made do with nodding understandingly at their colours instead.

Inside, I was surprised to see a generous crowd, with standing room only at the back, and as my eyes adjusted to the gloom I began to feel uneasy; there was an air of menace about some of these women, their expressions were not open and interested, as I believed mine was, but hard and determined. I hoped any heckling would not work against the cause, but acknowledged the movement had grown more and more militant over the past few years. Emily Davison’s death at the Derby back in June had fuelled things no end, and I’d heard awful stories about what went on at rallies.

I faced the front again as the first of the speeches began, and before five minutes had passed I knew I’d been right to come in. The anti-suffragists might well have supported women’s votes in local elections, but what was the use in that, if we were to have no say in Parliament? Nothing had changed, after all. I turned to Will to tell him we could go now, and as I did so, out of the corner of my eye I saw a small, tight band of women in WSPU colours move into the aisle and towards the stage with firm, purposeful strides.

One was holding a bucket of water which I assumed would soon be flung at the speaker, but two more waved an anti-suffrage banner, which surprised me until a flare of light made it all horrifically clear; a fourth Suffragette had touched a lighted match to the edge of the banner, and the flame took hold quickly. More quickly, it seemed, than the two ladies holding the banner had foreseen, and one of them dropped it with a shout. She stumbled backwards into the woman holding the bucket ready, just for this purpose I now realised, and the bucket thudded to the floor, spilling its contents.

‘Drop it in the water!’ someone cried, and the woman threw the burning banner towards where the carpet was wettest, but the water had soaked away and the fire burned greedily across the carpet and licked at the legs of the chairs closest to the stage. Panic was rippling through the people close enough to see what had happened, and although the fire was not a big one, it was spreading fast. Those who’d been seated closest to the aisle scrambled over their neighbours’ knees, while those who hadn’t fully grasped what was happening merely stared about them, bemused and in the way.

Will had seized my hand and started pulling the moment the banner had landed, or we wouldn’t have stood a chance. Someone shoved into me from behind and I nearly fell, but managed to keep my feet, and from behind me I could hear shouts and screams, and someone yelled that they had the fire extinguisher, and to stand back. But it was too late; panic had swept the room, mostly through those who couldn’t see what was happening, and although the fire was quickly brought under control, hysteria propelled people towards exits that were soon jammed.

The next time someone hit me from behind I knew I wouldn’t fall; there was nowhere to fall into. I, in turn, barrelled into the person in front, a woman who turned and shrieked into my face. Luckily I couldn’t hear her words or I might have let my own anger loose. Will’s arm came around my shoulder and I took comfort from his presence, while fighting the urge to shove with all my strength, to get through, to find a clear space and fresh air.

The noise level had risen by now to a deafening, shrill cacophony of voices, some begging for calm, others, like the woman in front of me, simply screaming in fearful frustration. Will’s strength held firm beside me, and he lowered his mouth to my ear so I could hear him without straining.

‘Steady, and keep moving. Don’t let go of me.’ He wrapped my arms around his waist, and whenever I stumbled he tightened his grip on my shoulder and kept talking to me in a low, steady voice to calm my shredded nerves. A crash sounded from up near the stage, and we turned to see the front row of people had tried to exit through the back of the stage, but brought down one of the scenery pillars which had been supporting the proscenium arch. The whole thing collapsed, and now the screams were terrible, and people were lying beneath the fallen scenery.

We were at the door now, bruised and shaken, but as I stumbled out into the blessed freedom of the lobby I felt Will’s hand drop away from my shoulder and he eased me away from him, holding my arms.

‘Go out onto the street,’ he said, urgent now. ‘I’ll meet you there.’

Before I could question him, he’d fought his way back into the auditorium, thrusting his way through the people still spilling out, who nevertheless parted instinctively to let him past. I was about to follow when a weeping voice stopped me, and I looked around to see a young girl in WSPU colours, sobbing and holding her arm across her chest. I felt a flash of anger towards her at first, then remembered my own recent, passionate beliefs in the movement, and drew her carefully out of the crowd where I could help her better.

For the most part my mind was with Will as he went back inside to help where he could, but I was able to lend half an ear to the girl, who was Scottish, very pretty, and about my own age. Her sobs, it turned out, were not for her injured arm, but for her little sister.

‘Please help me find her!’

‘How old is she?’

‘Twelve.’

My anger flooded back. ‘What on earth were you thinking, bringing such a young girl along to a rally?’

‘I wanted her to understand how important it all is,’ the girl said earnestly. ‘She needs to learn how the –’

‘Stop!’ I held up my hand. ‘I don’t need a lecture, you little idiot! Wait here, and don’t go anywhere. What’s her name?’ I looked around, but couldn’t see any children.

‘Helen. She has black hair and is wearing a green dress.’

I placed the young Suffragette firmly in a corner, where I could be reasonably sure of finding her again, then I followed Will’s example and pushed back into the auditorium.

Inside all was still chaos in the aisles, although most of the rows of seats were free of people now. I looked helplessly around, realising a twelve-year-old girl would be almost impossible to spot. Then I had an idea, and climbed over the back of the rear-most seats onto the ones in front, scanning the crowds as I went. From my vantage point I saw Will, helping a hobbling woman to a seat, and judged by the way she half-rose and then settled down, that he’d convinced her of the relative safety of staying where she was.

Taking my cue from his common sense, I climbed back down and began speaking to the people nearest me.

‘The fire’s out! It’s safe here, don’t push! Just sit down and wait, and you’ll get out quicker, and without injury! Sit down, just wait…’

Gradually the word seemed to filter through, and the shoving eased off. I began to ask people if they’d seen a twelve-year-old girl in a green dress but noone had. Just when I was starting to despair of ever finding her, and assumed she must have made her way outside after all, I saw a crumpled form near the edge of the stage. It was dressed in green. I scrambled back over the seats, my skirts held high, not caring who was watching, and yelled to Will, pointing with my free hand. We reached her at the same time, and I laid my hand on her back.

She jerked upright, gasping and terrified, and I could see blood matting her dark fringe.

‘Hush, Helen, it’s all right,’ I soothed.

She stared at me. ‘How do you know my name?’

‘Your sister has been looking for you,’ I said. ‘Sit still a moment, let’s make sure you’re fit to move.’

Will and I helped her to a sitting position, and I looked her over carefully. ‘Did you faint at all?’

‘I was hit on the head by something, but I didnae faint. I was a’scairt the rest of the scenery would come down on me, so I stayed curled up.’ The little girl had a lilting accent just like her sister’s, and would grow into a similar beauty one day. For now though she was tear-streaked and frightened, and hiccupped her way through a list of her bumps and bruises. None of them seemed serious, but Will asked her if she’d mind if he carried her anyway, just to be sure. She looked at him in awe and shook her head, and he scooped her up, carrying her easily and carefully through the thinning crowd.

I found the elder sister where I’d left her, and she swooped down on Helen with a cry of relief as Will lowered her carefully to the floor. ‘There y’are ya wee rascal! What did I tell ye about staying close?’

‘She was hit by some falling scenery,’ Will said, and the reproach in his voice halted the girl’s harangue. ‘I’m sure she’s fine, but you should get a doctor to look at her, she’s cut her head.’

‘I’m all right,’ Helen said in a small voice, and smiled shyly up at Will. I looked at him too, seeing him through her eyes, and felt a stirring of hero-worship myself. I met his embarrassed eyes and gave him a little smile.

‘We have a train to catch,’ I said. The two girls thanked us profusely, and as we left we could hear them talking excitedly about what had happened, and heard the older girl make Helen promise not to tell their parents what had happened.

Will grinned down at me and took my hand. ‘How about you, Florence Nightingale, are you all right?’

‘I’m better than that,’ I told him, ‘I’m a little bit more in love with you than I was before, if that’s possible.’

He laughed and waved a dismissive hand, but I was serious. I’d seen another side to him today: a courage that balanced the fun-loving side, and a calm strength that settled him just a little deeper into my heart. Walking beside him back towards the station I wanted everyone to know the bone-deep beauty of this man, and what he was capable of. I wanted people to look at me and envy me, and I wanted him to know how unutterably proud of him I was.

But if the day had shown me a new Will Davies, it had also shown me a new Evie Creswell, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about her. On the train, sitting close to him, I broached the question that had been bothering me. ‘Will, am I different?’

‘Different?’

‘To what I was. To the way you saw me.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘It’s just, today…’ I hesitated, wondering if I was courting trouble even putting the thought in his head. ‘I mean, all this time you’ve told me you admired me for my beliefs, and principles, and the way I could make you believe things too. Lizzy was the same. But now, after what happened, I feel as if…how could I let something like this shake those beliefs? But it has.’

He twisted in his seat and took my hands. ‘Evie, listen to me. We’re still growing into what we will eventually become. If everyone waited until they believed they were fully formed before deciding they loved someone, the human race would die out. We’re never “finished”, so of course our ideals will change, we’ll change.’

‘But do you think we’ll change too much?’

‘Do you mean will I stop loving you? Tell me this, will you stop loving me if I change?’

‘No!’

‘And nothing will ever make me think you’re not worth my whole life, Evie. I will never, ever give up on you, and I want you to promise the same.’

I looked at him, I saw the earnest truth in his face, and I spoke from the heart, not suspecting how the weight of the words would return one day to reshape our lives. ‘I pledge my life on it.’