She said: “Old Lallie is a slave-driver, isn’t she, Rachel?”
Rachel did not answer. She seemed timid and perhaps in awe of Tamarisk.
“Old Lallie?” I asked.
“Lallie Lloyd. Her name is Alice. I call her Lallie.”
“Not to her face,” put in Rachel quietly.
“I would,” retorted Tamarisk.
“I am starting on Monday,” I told them.
“You three can get to know each other,” said Aunt Sophie.
“I’ll see about tea.”
And I was alone with them.
“You’ve come to live here now, I suppose,” said Tamarisk.
“My mother is ill. She’s in a nursing home near here. That’s why I’m here.”
“Rachel’s mother and father died. That’s why she’s here with her uncle and aunt.”
“Yes, I know. She’s at the Bell House.”
“It’s not as good as our place,” Tamarisk told me.
“It’s not bad, though.” Again she gave Aunt Sophie’s drawing-room that look of pity and contempt.
“We’re going to school later on,” Rachel told me.
“Tamarisk and I shall go together.”
“I think I probably shall too.”
“Then there’ll be three of us.” Tamarisk giggled.
“I shall be glad to go to school. It’s a pity we’re all so young. “
That will change, of course,” I said, a little primly perhaps, and Tamarisk burst out laughing.
“You sound like old Lallie already,” she said.
“Tell us about your old home.”
I told them and they listened intently and while they were talking Lily came in with the tea.
Aunt Sophie followed.
“You’ll look after our guests, Freddie,” she said.
“I’ll leave you to it. Then you can all get to know each other without the help of the grownups.”
I felt important pouring out the tea and handing round the cakes.
“What a funny name,” said Tamarisk.
“Isn’t it, Rachel? Freddie! It’s like a boy.”
“It’s Frederica really.”
“Frederica!” Her expression was disdainful.
“Mine’s more unusual. Poor old Rachel, yours is ordinary. Didn’t Rachel do something in the Bible?”
“Yes,” said Rachel.
“She did.”
“I like Tamarisk best. I shouldn’t like to be called by a boy’s name.”
“Nobody would mistake you for one,” I replied, which sent Tamarisk into gusts of laughter.
Then we talked together freely and I felt they had accepted me. They told me about the vagaries of old Lallie, how easily she could be hoodwinked, though one had to take care when attempting this; how she had had a lover who had died when he was young of some mysterious illness and that was why she had remained unmarried and had to go on being a governess to people like Tamarisk, Rachel and me instead of having her own home, with a loving husband and a family.
By the time tea was over I had lost my apprehension and felt I could deal adequately with Tamarisk and had no fear of Rachel.
On the following Monday I set out for St. Aubyn’s Park, full of cautious optimism, to face Miss Alice Lloyd.
St. Aubyn’s Park was a large Tudor mansion with a winding drive bordered on each side by flowering shrubs. There was an impressive gatehouse under which Aunt Sophie and I passed and went into a cobbled courtyard. Aunt Sophie had come along with me, as she said, ‘to introduce you to the place’.
“Don’t let Tamarisk overawe you,” she said.
“She will if she has half a chance. Remember, you’re as good as she is.”
I promised I would not.
We were let in by a maid who said: “Miss Lloyd is waiting for the young lady. Miss Cardingham.”
Thank you. We’ll go up, shall we? “
“If you would be so good,” was the answer.
The hall was lofty. There was a long refectory table with several chairs round it and on the wall a full-length portrait of Queen Elizabeth looking severe in a ruff and a jewel-spattered gown.
“She stayed here once,” whispered Aunt Sophie.
“The family is very proud of it.”
She led the way up a staircase; we came to a landing and, after more stairs, passed through a gallery in which were several sofas, chairs, a spinet and a harp. I wondered if Tamarisk could play them. Then there were more stairs.
“Schoolrooms always seem to be at the top of the house,” commented Aunt Sophie.
“They were at Cedars.”
At last we arrived. Aunt Sophie knocked at a door and went in.
This was the schoolroom which was to become very familiar to me. It was large with a high ceiling. In the centre of the room was a long table at which Tamarisk and Rachel were sitting. I noticed the big cupboard, the door of which was half-open to show books and slates. At one end of the room was a blackboard. It was the typical schoolroom.
A woman came towards us. She was, of course, Miss Alice Lloyd. She was tall and thin and I imagined in her early forties. I noticed the faintly long-suffering expression in her face which must have come from trying to teach people like Tamarisk St. Aubyn. This was mingled with a wistfulness and reminded me that Tamarisk had said she looked back to a past which had held a lover and dreams of what might have been.
“This is my niece. Miss Lloyd, Freddie … that is, Frederica.”
Miss Lloyd smiled at me and her smile transformed her. I liked her from that moment.
“Welcome, Frederica,” she said.
“You must tell me all about yourself.
Then I shall know where you stand in relation to my two other pupils. ”
Tm sure you’ll get on well,” said Aunt Sophie.
“I’ll see you later, dear.”
She said goodbye to Miss Lloyd and left.
I was told to sit down and Miss Lloyd asked me a few questions. She seemed not dissatisfied with my achievements and the lessons began.
I had always been interested in acquiring knowledge; I had read a great deal and I soon realized that I by no means lagged behind my companions.
At eleven o’clock a maid came in with a tray on which were three glasses of milk and three plain biscuits.
“I’ve put yours in your room. Miss Lloyd,” she said.
“Thank you,” said Miss Lloyd.
“Now, girls, fifteen minutes only.”
Tamarisk grimaced at her back as she left.
The hot milk tasted delicious. We all took a biscuit.
“Free for a while,” commented Tamarisk.
“Do you do this every day?” I asked.
Tamarisk nodded.
“Milk at eleven. Eleven-fifteen, lessons, and they go on till twelve. Then you and Rachel go home.”
Rachel nodded in agreement.
“I expect you think this house is very grand,” said Tamarisk to me.
“It isn’t as grand as the house where my mother was brought up,” I said, feeling a little exaggeration was not amiss.
“It was Cedar Hall.
You may have heard of it. “
Tamarisk shook her head dismissively.
But I was not going to have that. I went into a description imaginary, of course, for I had never been inside Cedar Hall. But I could describe its gracious interior on what I had seen at St. Aubyn’s, making sure to make it more grand, more impressive.
Rachel sat back, listening intently, seeming to sink further and further into her chair.
“Of course,” said Tamarisk, eyeing Rachel, “Rachel doesn’t know what we are talking about.”
“I do,” said Rachel.
“Oh no you don’t. You only live in the old Bell House, and before that, where did you come from? You couldn’t know anything about houses like this, could she, Fred?”
I said: “You can know things. You don’t necessarily have to live in them. Besides, Rachel’s here, isn’t she?”
Rachel looked grateful and from that moment I decided to protect her.
She was small and pretty in a fragile way. I liked Rachel. I was not sure of Tamarisk.