Chapter 4 #2
Who knew how long this would last either?
Perhaps until this strange gold bracelet snapped, like those two batty old ladies had said, or perhaps for a few hours.
Or perhaps she’d fallen asleep and missed her stop and would wake up in Hammersmith any moment now.
Either way, this was her dream-slash-life right now, and things were going to change. Pronto.
Etta looked down at her empty plate, her tummy rumbling still, then wandered into her bedroom. ‘Nanny, are you there? Tell me, does everyone else in my family go downstairs and eat a nice hot breakfast?’
Nanny paused, smoothing down the plain-looking faded pink dress she’d placed on the bed. ‘Well, yes, child. They’ll be there any moment. But …’
‘I wish to join them, Nanny.’
Nanny was clearly horrified by this development. ‘Oh no, Miss Hetty. They won’t be expecting you. And I think your mother would say we should call Mr Withings, the doctor. It’s so strange, seeing you up and about like this.’
‘No, Nanny. I’m going downstairs.’
Nanny looked dismayed. ‘But, Miss Hetty … You don’t even have any stays!’
Etta paused, then remembered a line from her favourite novel. The heroine had been so upset, the hero had had to unlace her stays. Stays must mean some sort of corset.
‘Then I shall go without,’ she said defiantly.
Nanny looked appalled. She was shook, thought Etta. ‘Without stays! Miss Hetty! How could you think so? Well, I never!’
‘You can say “well, I never” all you like, Nanny, but I don’t see why I should be up here eating cold toast while everyone else is eating sausages and beans.’
‘Miss Hetty, I don’t think you’re quite well. You’re … You’re not making sense.’ Nanny was inches away from wringing her hands, so Etta softened her tone.
‘Perhaps not, but I reckon you’ve got the gist of what I’m saying. And if I have no stays, then I will have to go without them.’
Nanny looked more astonished than ever, but Etta noticed something else in her expression. Something like pride. They really must have all thought Hetty was past praying for. But Etta wasn’t. She stood quietly, watching Nanny rally from this unexpected conversation.
Recently, Etta had been forced to go on mandatory assertiveness training at work. At the time, it had felt boring and pointless – like her boss had been spending too much time on LinkedIn. But if there was ever a time to put what she’d learned into practice, it was now.
‘Listen, Nanny. I need you to pretend with me. Pretend that I am not Hetty, but someone else. A woman who is perfectly well. Someone who can speak and think and dress like anyone else.’ Etta watched carefully.
Nanny was taking it well so far, so she continued, ‘Pretend I have come out of nowhere, and don’t know what to do or who anyone is.
Now, what should we do? Let’s work together. ’
To her mild surprise, it worked. Nanny seemed to pull herself together, with a little shake of her head.
‘Well, Miss Hetty. In that case, I shall go to your mother’s dresser and borrow some of her clothing. I’m sure Lady Bainbridge won’t mind. Or even notice, at that.’
The last comment was mumbled, as Nanny quickly bustled out of the room.
Etta sat on her bed, fingering the dress there.
The fabric was soft and well-worn. Looking more closely, she could see it had been hand-made with tiny little stitches.
It had been mended many times around the hem.
Hetty had nice clothes, she thought. Nice, but very old.
She got up and found a brush on top of a chest of drawers next to her bed.
She could only assume she didn’t have a maid of her own – it looked like it had just been her and Nanny.
However, as she began brushing her surprisingly long, pale hair out of its tight braid, she heard the tea tray being moved in the nursery next door.
She got up to see who it was and found a determined young woman of about her own age wearing a black dress and apron. ‘Hello?’
The woman’s slightly fierce look completely deserted her as she stared at Etta. The metal tray made a racket as it hit the floor, the teapot smashing and covering them both in lukewarm tea.
‘Miss— Miss Hetty?’
‘… Kind of. Who are you?’
The woman gaped at her, astonished. ‘I’m Bessie, your maid.’
Etta was relieved, despite the cold tea leaves on her feet. ‘Thank goodness. Do you think you could help me do my hair? I have absolutely no idea what to do with it and I want to go down to breakfast with everyone.’
‘Certainly, miss. I’ll ring the bell for someone to come and clean up this tea first. I’m so sorry about that.’
‘Oh, not your fault. I can’t imagine you were expecting me to be a whole different person this morning.’
Bessie continued to look stunned, even after the bell had been rung and a housemaid had come in to clean up the spilt tea. She took a heavy, silver-backed brush, and started brushing out Hetty’s long blonde locks. There was an awkward silence as she finished detangling it and began plaiting.
‘Bessie, I presume you’re not used to me talking or, well, doing much at all really. But can we pretend that I’m completely new here and don’t know anyone? That I’ve … I don’t know. That I’ve hit my head and am perfectly back to being a normal person, but have forgotten everything?’
Etta couldn’t see Bessie’s expression, but could almost feel curiosity radiating from behind her.
‘Yes … Yes, miss.’
There was more silence. Bessie coughed, clearly trying to work out what to say next.
‘Have you forgotten everything, then, miss?’
Etta nodded. ‘Yes. Everything. I don’t suppose you could, well, fill me in?’
Bessie’s brow wrinkled in confusion. ‘Fill you in what, miss?’
‘You know, tell me what’s going on. Who’s who, where I am?’
Bessie paused, then whispered. ‘So it worked, then, miss?’
‘What?’
Etta quickly turned to look at Bessie but just at that moment, infuriatingly, Nanny bustled back in. She was carrying a large pile of clothes.
‘Now then, Miss Hetty. I see Bessie has nearly finished your hair. A lovely job, too, especially with all that braiding! Oh, you do look so grown up with your hair off your neck like that. All that fancy London training coming in useful at last, Bessie!’
Etta watched Bessie’s eyes narrow. She said nothing, but tweaked at an errant strand as Nanny laid out the pile of clothes on Hetty’s bed and kept talking.
‘Miss Hetty, I’ve brought you some old clothes from your mother. They won’t quite fit, of course, but you’re only a little taller than your mother after all – and just as trim.’
Yes, Etta thought. Unnervingly short and slim.
She let her strangely small, light body be pushed and pulled into the clothes.
She was going to have to get creative about knickers, because going commando was not her style, but besides that it was all a lot better than expected.
The chemise was thin and delicate and the stays, while far from ideal, weren’t as tight as the corset Etta had worn for her Halloween costume last year.
Plus, they made Hetty’s otherwise small-ish tits look fabulous.
Like oranges peeking out of an overloaded shopping bag. Well, maybe tangerines.
Hetty’s body really was far smaller and slighter than Etta’s. Almost wraith-like. Etta had been meaning to lose weight for a long time, but on reflection her new light, weak body was not quite what she had imagined.
By the time they were done, the nursery clock read half past ten. ‘You’d best get going, then,’ said Nanny, looking tearful. ‘Bessie, take Miss Hetty to the breakfast room.’
At the very last moment, Nanny touched Etta’s arm. ‘Miss Hetty, are you sure this is right? Are you sure it is what you want to do?’
Etta felt a wave of sympathy. The older woman looked extremely anxious. She tipped her head to one side and smiled. ‘What’s the worst they can do, Nanny? Shut me up in my room?’