My Secret, Chapter 12

Chapter 12:
Life outside the Garden

'Mary, do you miss your home?'

'All the time.'

'Are you sorry that you've come to live here?'

The voice was so genuine in it's concern that I inwardly cringed. Across the way from me, Sam's face was illuminated in candlelight. We were laying in our respective beds, talking as the night grew late.

How could I begin to tell her how much I ached to see home again. To wake up in my old bedroom at Misselthwaite, to the sound of the maids scurrying about, to the sound of the birds singing outside, or of the rain falling on the roof. To the sights and scents of the secret garden – and to feel Dickon's gentle caress. I wanted to tell her how I had been forced into coming here, that I had not wanted to come at all. That I wished I were at home, and that this would never be 'home' to me – that I had left someone behind – a young man that I cared about so much that at times it felt like I would explode. Yet how could I say all of this to Samantha?

Instead I replied:

'Yes, I do miss home, but its bearable because I know it won't be long until I return.'

'I wish I could see Misselthwaite...' Sam said dreamily, staring up at the ceiling as though looking up at the stars in a night sky. 'I long to see the countryside, and you just make it sound so lovely.'

'It's the most lovely, beautiful place in the world.' I said softly. 'We even have a secret garden there – did Colin tell you about it?'

'He might have mentioned something about it in passing, I can't really remember. But please tell me about it Mary. What do you mean by a secret garden?'

She had shifted position, and was now sitting propped up on her elbow. Her eyes, I noticed, gleamed in the firelight, and her wavy dark hair hung loose around her face, like a black veil in the darkness. I was still growing used to seeing her like this, a stark contrast from the immaculately presented girl whom I had been introduced to in the sitting room that evening. Her enthusiasm spurred me on, and I began to tell her about my arrival at Misselthwaite, and the events that had happened six long years ago.

'And the birds are always chirping high up in the trees,' I was saying, 'and there are robins, and blackbirds, and sparrows, and Ravens of course. Dickon even used to have a Raven called 'Soot' who would travel with him wherever he went – he would let us feed Soot or hold him on our arm, and he would walk up and down your arm as if he was the ruler of the bird kingdom, and could do exactly as he pleased.'

Samantha giggled 'I couldn't imagine a bird walking up and down my arm!' she said. 'Your Dickon must have quite a way with animals.'

'All the animals are his friends.' I replied passionately, feeling my stomach lurch at the mention of Dickon's name. Hearing Sam say his name made Dickon feel more real to me, not just a memory within my mind, and I struggled to feel the emotions rising up inside me. 'He knows how to treat them, and they trust him not to do them any harm. When I first met him, he spent most of his time on the moor, tending to sick animals and sometimes he would even sleep out in the open, just like them. And it's not just animals, either. He has a way with people, a way of making them feel as though they can trust him.'

I desperately wanted to say more. I wanted to tell her how it was between us – how Dickon made me feel, how much I missed him, and how I could hardly bear being apart from him. I tried to push my feelings down, but they kept rising to the surface. I saw Dickon in my mind's eye – a faraway speck on the moor. I saw him waving goodbye, a forlorn figure standing outside in the cold up against the bleak grey of the sky. How long would it be before we could be together again? I knew that Colin came home every Christmas, but Christmas was almost two months away! how would I survive until then? Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes despite my attempts to quell my feelings. I tried to wipe them away inconspicuously.

'Mary... are you crying?' said Sam, in concern.

'No... it's just these pillows – they're all dusty and they're making... they're making my eyes water!' I replied angrily, sniffing as I did so, and trying to swallow the frustration and pain that was welling up inside me.

'Mary, I know you must miss your home.' Sam said gently. 'You don't have to pretend to me.'

'I thought I would be able to bear this!' I sobbed. 'I promised him I would.'

'Promised who, Mary – your Uncle, uh, Lord Craven, I mean?'

I turned around to face her, my face streaked with tears. I had an overwhelming urge to tell her everything, to release my emotions. I felt so tired and drained. My reply was little more than a whisper, which was clouded in despair.

'No... not my Uncle. Dickon, Sam. I promised Dickon.'

'The boy who tames the animals?'

I nodded mutely, looking down – unable to meet her enquiring gaze.

'You...' she began, then realisation hit 'Oh Mary ... you're in love with him?'

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'Mary!' Mrs Sutherland announced, swiftly breezing into the room where Sam and I were being dressed. 'Mary, I need to ask you a question.'

'You may step outside for a minute, Charlotte,' she gestured to the maid who was lacing my corset. I felt the strings slacken as she let go and bobbed a curtsey, and the wonderful relief of being able to breathe again.

Without waiting for me to reply, she continued: 'I have it on good authority that you are to have your sixteenth birthday next week – on the 10th of October, is that correct?'

'Yes, that is my birthday.' I replied.

'Well, it also happens that my dear Samantha's birthday falls two weeks after yours – on the 24th of October. As you know, she will also be turning sixteen.' she clasped her hands together in joy 'Ah! such a lovely age.' Sam turned to look at her Mother, rather suspiciously, I noticed. 'Anyway, I was thinking how pleasant it would be if the two of you could have a combined birthday party. I know it would be the perfect chance to introduce you, Mary, to some of London's society.'

'London's society?' I said out loud, in surprise – forgetting that this was the reason that I had come to London in the first place. Misselthwaite suddenly seemed so far away. I closed my eyes briefly and thought of Dickon and his smile, happy and immersed in nature. So far away from all of this! I must bear it, I must! I reminded myself.

'Yes my dear. Every young woman is introduced to society on her sixteenth birthday – or thereabouts. Of course, Sam has already seen her fair share of society – haven't you, my darling.' she said, turning to Sam with a fond expression on her face.

'Yes, Mother.'

I glanced at Sam and noticed her rolling her eyes once her Mother looked away. I stiffled a giggle, trying not to look at Mrs Sutherland.

'Now then. I intend to draft some invitations this morning, and I think we will arrange for the party to be in two week's time. That will give everyone enough time to get to know each other, and for me to make the necessary preparations.'

'More like bribe the right people to come.' I heard Sam mutter under her breath.

'What was that, Samantha?' Mrs Sutherland broke in.

'Nothing Mother.' Sam smiled. 'I think it's wonderful you're putting on a party for Mary and I... and er... thinking of our best interests.'

'My dear! I'm so pleased you think so! this party is going to be the talk of the neighbourhood, at the very least. It's not every day that not one, but two young ladies turn sixteen! Mary, I don't know if you're aware of the significance of a young woman's sixteenth birthday. It is often marked as her 'coming out' into society – where young ladies get a chance to mingle in the right kinds of adult company.'

'and be bored the whole time.'

'Samantha my dear, you must learn to speak up or no one will be able to hear what you're saying!'

'I'm sorry Mother, I said “and have a great time.” Sam turned to me and winked.

Mrs Sutherland smiled in agreement 'Yes, well sixteen is a very exciting age for you young ladies. The world really is your Oyster! Oh girls, I cannot wait to have this party! I think perhaps,' she said slowly 'a shopping trip might be in order? Every young lady should have a new gown for such an occasion'

How much worse can this get? I thought, inwardly rolling my eyes. First a party, and now a shopping trip??

'Anyway, I'll leave you girls to dress. You have a busy day ahead of you. Miss Godfrey will be calling on you both at nine this morning. She'll expect both of you to be punctual.'

'Yes Mother, we promise not to be late.' Sam said, somewhat sarcastically. I marvelled that Mrs Sutherland did not pick up on it, thinking how different it would have been had it been Mrs Medlock in her place! Mrs Medlock had always been able to smell sarcasm a mile away.

'Ohhh, Mother and her parties!' Sam exclaimed, as soon as Mrs Sutherland had left the room. 'God Mary, I simply dread them. They are usally such dull affairs!'

'We would not be having a dull time if we were at Misselthwaite,' I replied. 'We would be eating birthday cake and playing party games with Colin and Dickon – and if it was sunny we would eat lunch in the garden under the shade of a tree... of course, that's a little difficult to do when it's cold like this, but we would still have fun.'

'Tell me about one of your birthdays, Mary.' Sam went and sat on her bed. 'We still have some time before Charlotte comes back.'

I cast my mind back to the past, fondly remembering my thirteenth birthday and the bonfire that Dickon and Colin had made for me in the middle of the secret garden. That year was the last year that Colin had been there to share my birthday with me. Shortly afterwards, he had been sent away to London.

'Well, Dickon and Colin once made me a bonfire.' I said smiling. 'They lit it in the Secret Garden and led me there in surprise. We toasted pieces of bread over it, and hot potatoes. I'll never forget how Colin burnt his fingers trying to pick one of them up when they were still too hot – he spent the rest of the night pretending it didn't hurt, but wincing every time he thought we weren't looking.'

I realised that I had digressed, but saw Sam looking at me with humour twinkling in her grey eyes.

'I can just imagine Colin doing that!' she laughed. 'He always seems so frail – as if he is going to break into a million pieces and smash - like fine china.'

'Dickon isn't fragile though. He's so very strong. Rough, wild – like a shaggy moor pony'
'No wonder you feel so strongly about him.' Sam said, dropping her voice to a whisper. 'I wish I had someone to feel strongly about. I don't think I've ever been in love. I've met so many young men – and most of them just seem so arrogant and ... self assured! as if they know everything!'
'Colin was like that over the Bonfire.' I remembered. 'He tried to take credit for all of it, when of course I knew that Dickon was the one who had gathered the wood and built it... he always was good with his hands.'

'I bet he is good with his hands in many ways, not just in “building bonfires”', she chuckled.

I laughed in spite of myself, hoping my cheeks weren't giving away my embarrassment.

'But of course, I wouldn't know anything about that.' She replied, and winked at me. 'Come, Charlotte hasn't come back yet to dress us, so I'll help you with your gown. And later – tonight, I want to hear all about your moor boy.'