‘It’ll brush off,’ said Nora optimistically, and turned to Phyllis. ‘Thanks awfully for taking us today, Phyllis. I know you didn’t particularly want to …’
‘I didn’t,’ said Phyllis.
‘But we really do appreciate it. Don’t we, Mollie?’
I nodded. ‘And thank you too, Mabel.’
‘It’s the least we can do, after all you’ve done for the cause,’ said Mabel. ‘I hardly dare imagine what you’ll do next.’ Her tone was solemn, but there was a twinkle in her eye.
‘You keep going on about all they’ve done for the cause,’ said Kathleen peevishly, ‘but as far as I can see, all they’ve done is cause a lot of trouble and worry.’
‘Oh, they’ve played their parts,’ said Mabel. ‘We’ll tell you all about it another time.
‘Why don’t you all come back to our house?’ said Phyllis. ‘Mother and Father won’t be back for ages yet.’
But Kathleen’s mother was expecting her so she couldn’t go. I can’t pretend I was disappointed as she said goodbye and headed off towards her own house.
‘What about you, Nora?’ said Mabel. ‘After all, your parents won’t be expecting you home yet. We can all have a nice cup of tea. And maybe some cake, if Maggie’s made one’
‘All right,’ said Nora, to my delight. It was nice for us both to be treated as equals by Mabel and Phyllis – well, Mabel, anyway, but Phyllis didn’t object. I remembered how we’d been invited to a suffragette tea after the Brunswick Street meeting but we couldn’t go. Now we were going to have a suffragette tea of our own (well, sort of). As we made our way to our house, I suddenly felt utterly exhausted. It must have been what Mabel had been talking about earlier – as if I were an engine and all my oil had suddenly run out. By the time we got home, I was starting to yawn.
Nora nudged me.
‘Stop yawning,’ she hissed. ‘If they think you’re tired they’ll probably send me home and send you to bed.’
‘What are you two muttering about?’ called Phyllis, who had walked a few yards ahead of us with Mabel.
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Do you have a key?’
But Phyllis had forgotten her latch key (I, of course, am not trusted to have one of my own) so she knocked on the door. And who should answer it but Frank!
I don’t know why, but I had totally forgotten that Frank and Harry might be at home. I think Phyllis had too, because she looked quite surprised to see him.
‘I thought you and Harry were at a party,’ she said, in an almost accusatory tone.
‘It was afternoon tea. We’ve been back for a while.’ Frank sounded apologetic as he answered. Then he caught sight of me and Nora and his eyes widened as he took in our unusual hair arrangements. ‘Oh, hello, Mollie. And Nora.’ He glanced at Mabel. ‘I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t remember your name, Miss …’
‘It’s Mabel Purcell,’ said Mabel. ‘But you can call me Mabel. Now, has Maggie made any cake?’
And she strode past a slightly flummoxed-looking Frank, followed by Phyllis. Nora and I went after them. I still felt very awkward in Frank’s presence, but this was a time to rise above such petty feelings. As we passed him I whispered, ‘Don’t tell Harry about our hair. Please, Frank.’
‘I won’t, if you don’t want me to,’ he whispered back. ‘But he’s in the dining room. He could be out here any minute.’
I turned to Nora.
‘Come on!’
And taking her hand, I ran upstairs and into my room.
‘These stupid pins!’ said Nora, pulling them out as quickly as she could.
‘Careful!’ I cried. ‘You’ll be a tangled mess if you don’t watch out.’
It took simply ages to get our hair down; I hoped Mabel and Phyllis would realise what we were doing and wouldn’t send Harry up for us. When we were both brushed and plaited we raced down to the kitchen, where Mabel and Phyllis were sitting at the table with Maggie, drinking tea. Phyllis looked relieved to see us with our usual boring schoolgirl hair and even poured out two cups of tea without being asked.
‘Here you go,’ she said. ‘And there’s cake too.’
‘Lemon drizzle,’ said Maggie. She got up and closed the door to the hall.
‘We were just telling Maggie about the policemen,’ said Mabel, her mouth full of cake.
‘Mabel, you have the manners of a bear,’ said Phyllis.
‘Bears don’t eat cake,’ retorted Mabel. ‘Or use napkins.’ She picked up hers and wiped away a few crumbs.
‘I’d rather not talk about any policemen now the girls are here,’ said Maggie firmly, handing me a slice of lemon drizzle cake.
‘Just this once won’t hurt, Maggie,’ said Mabel. ‘After all, if by any chance Mr. and Mrs. Carberry walk in and hear what we’re talking about, you can say you were cleaning up and couldn’t hear us. No one could accuse you of being involved.’
Maggie didn’t look convinced, but she went to the sink and started filling it with hot water.
‘So what are we going to do tomorrow?’ Nora’s eyes were bright.
‘You are not going to do anything,’ said Phyllis. ‘Mabel and I are going to go to the Beresford Place meeting and sell some Citizens.’
‘I don’t see why we can’t go too,’ I retorted. ‘I could tell Mother and Father I’m going to Nora’s house. I’ve done it plenty of times before.’
‘I can’t hear anything,’ said Maggie in a loud voice.
‘And I can say I’m coming here,’ said Nora. ‘Grace is going to some special fête, or match, or something, in Rathmines with the junior members of the tennis club and they’re being fed afterwards in someone’s house, so my mother won’t expect me to stay in and look after her.’
‘No,’ said Phyllis firmly.
Nora and I exchanged glances as if to say, ‘we’ve got around her before’. But Phyllis clearly suspected what we were thinking, because she said, ‘I really mean it, Moll. I know you’ve shown your commitment to the cause, but something very bad could have happened this evening. And don’t even think of blackmailing me again because I know you wouldn’t dare.’
She was right. I tried doing it before, if you recall, and I felt far too guilty to go through with it. I looked to Mabel for support, but she shook her head.
‘I agree with Phyllis,’ she said. ‘After that hatchet business …’
Maggie turned quickly around.
‘What hatchet business?’
‘Some English girl threw a hatchet at Mr. Asquith. He wasn’t hurt,’ Mabel added quickly. ‘But it means that the police will be even more determined to stop any activity. And not just the police. Imagine what the Ancient Hooligans and their chums will be like now.’
‘Then it’s not safe for you to be in town either,’ Nora pointed out.
‘We’re old enough to make that decision for ourselves,’ said Mabel. ‘And you two are not.’
I was just about to answer her when the kitchen door opened and Frank and Harry came in.
‘Oh, there you are,’ said Harry. ‘What are you skulking down here for? Poor Maggie is trying to work.’
‘We were trying to hide from you,’ I said, in my most cutting voice.
Harry looked affronted.
‘Well, I was going to see if you wanted to play cards with us,’ he said. ‘But I wish I hadn’t bothered now.’
Frank gave Harry a friendly punch in the arm. ‘Ignore him.’
‘I usually do,’ I muttered.
‘So, do you and Nora want to play cards?’ Frank asked. He was clearly making an effort to be friendly today. He was obviously trying to forget about the embarrassing nightgown/pyjamas/red-faced incident. And I wanted to show him that I was keen to forget about it too, and let things go back to normal. But I couldn’t leave Mabel and Phyllis now, not when we had so much to discuss. So I just said, ‘We’re fine here, thank you, Frank.’
‘All right,’ said Frank. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
‘Come on, Nugent.’ Harry had
already left the kitchen. Frank, looking a little flustered, followed him, closing the door behind him.
But even though I had just spurned Frank’s olive branch of friendship, I still wasn’t able to successfully plead my case. Even though we begged and begged, Nora and I simply couldn’t persuade Mabel and Phyllis to take us.
‘And if you think of sneaking along anyway,’ said Phyllis in her most threatening voice, ‘I’ll find that Inspector Campbell and have you both arrested.’
Mabel stifled a laugh, but I had a horrible feeling Phyllis meant every word. And then I had an idea.
‘Come on, then, Nora,’ I said. ‘If they don’t want our support …’
‘Oh, don’t be like that,’ said Mabel, but I wanted to talk to Nora alone.
‘Thanks awfully, both of you,’ said Nora, getting up and brushing away the cake crumbs. ‘It’s been a wonderful day. Even with the police and everything.’
Mabel grinned back at her. ‘It has, hasn’t it?’
‘Apart from someone throwing a hatchet at Mr. Asquith,’ said Phyllis, taking a moody bite of lemon drizzle.
Harry and Frank were still in the dining room, and I knew Julia was in our room, so we went into the dining room and closed the door behind us.
‘We are going to go along tomorrow, aren’t we?’ Nora’s voice was low. ‘There’s no way I’m missing any more excitement.’
‘Of course we are,’ I said. ‘And I’ve thought of a good way of doing it.’ I paused for dramatic effect, but Nora doesn’t seem to understand such things because she said, ‘Well, go on then, don’t make me wait all night.’
‘Disguises!’ I said.
‘But Phyllis has seen our disguises,’ said Nora. She really can be obtuse sometimes.
‘We don’t have to wear the same ones,’ I pointed out. ‘If we borrowed some things from your mother, they’ll be things she’s never even seen before.’
‘And hats are rather low-brimmed this year.’ Nora was clearly warming to the idea. ‘If we pulled them quite low over our faces and put our hair up under them, Phyllis would never notice us in a crowd.’
‘Exactly!’ I said. ‘Do you think you can get hold of some things?’
Nora pondered the question. ‘If I get some winter coats down from the attic Mother wouldn’t notice they were gone. We’ll be awfully hot, though.’
‘And we’d look very conspicuous, wearing woolly coats in the middle of summer,’ I said. ‘Even worse than if we’d worn Stella’s scarves.’
Then Nora’s face brightened.
‘I know! There was a problem with our laundry this week, and the clothes couldn’t be sent out. They’re still in a bundle in the kitchen, waiting for Monday. And I know for a fact that Mother’s linen jacket and last year’s summer coat are in there. They might be a bit stained, though …’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘And we can wear the same skirts as last time, Phyllis won’t really notice them in a crowd. What about the hats?’
‘Father is always telling Mother she has far too many,’ said Nora. ‘She definitely won’t notice if two more are missing. I’ll hide them in the shed tonight so I can get them tomorrow without anyone seeing.’
‘What about the laundry clothes?’ I asked. ‘Do you think you can sneak them out easily?’
‘I’ll do it tonight,’ said Nora. ‘I’ll sneak down after everyone’s gone to bed.’
I wasn’t sure I trusted Nora’s ability to stay awake that late, but she insisted she could do it.
‘And even if something happens to stop me, I can keep a careful eye on Agnes and sneak in there whenever she goes out. Mother’s going to Belfast tomorrow morning on the train and Grace is going to be at her tennis thing in Rathmines all day so I don’t have to worry about her.’
Then she glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece and jumped to her feet.
‘Heavens, I’d better go,’ she said. ‘They’ll wonder why I’m so late. Unless of course Barnaby’s done something really dreadful to distract them.’
We arranged that she would call over here late this afternoon to give us plenty of time to get to the meeting. It wasn’t until after she’d gone that I realised we didn’t have anywhere to change our clothes. In fact, we still don’t. But we’ll think of something. Where there’s a will, there’s a way!
And now I must finally stop this account of our dramatic time yesterday. I’ve been writing it all day – I just took a break for lunch – and my hand feels like it’s about to fall right off. But I did want to write everything down before I forgot it. I hope you’re doing the same with your American adventures! I haven’t really seen Frank all day because he and Harry have been out, but it’s probably for the best. Knowing my luck, my stockings would probably fall down, or the Menace would jump on top of me, or something as soon as I saw him.
Best love and votes for women,
Mollie
Saturday, 20th July, 1912.
Dear Frances,
I don’t know where to begin. I thought Thursday was a dramatic day, but I’ve never been so scared in my life as I was last night. I really thought someone was going to die. It wasn’t exciting, like the police raid, and it didn’t feel like fun afterwards. It was just very, very frightening. In fact, just thinking about it makes my hand go a bit shaky, so I apologise if my writing is less legible than usual.
Just after I finished my last letter yesterday afternoon, Phyllis came into my room brandishing a newspaper. Of course, she hadn’t knocked.
‘Have you seen the Evening Telegraph?’ she said.
‘And hello to you too,’ I said. ‘No, I haven’t.’
Phyllis thrust the paper into my hands. The headline read ‘LADIES WHO HAVE NO RELIGION – ONLY VOTES FOR WOMEN.’
‘And this is typical,’ she said. ‘The Irish Independent called what happened a “Reign of Terror”. People are out for our blood. Turn to the Telegraph letters page.’
I flipped through the pages until I found it. Phyllis pointed to one letter.
‘That’s why I don’t want you going out tonight,’ she said.
I quickly read the letter. The writer, whoever he was, declared that suffragettes deserved to be thrown in the Liffey and said that he hoped someone would do just that. It was very strong stuff but …
‘But it’s just a silly letter,’ I pointed out. ‘No one will take it seriously.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure.’ Phyllis’s face was grave. ‘The hatchet wasn’t the only thing that happened last night. Some English suffragettes set fire to a box in the Theatre Royal. And there was an explosion there too.’
‘Was anyone hurt?’ I said.
‘No, thank heaven,’ said Phyllis. ‘I suppose they did it because the Prime Minister is speaking there tonight. But I want you to swear that you won’t go to Beresford Place. On Mother and Father’s lives. And your honour as a suffragette.’
Telling a measly little lie to Phyllis was one thing, but I simply couldn’t break such a solemn vow.
‘You’re being ridiculous,’ I blustered.
‘Am I?’ said Phyllis. ‘I know you. Go on, swear you won’t try and go to the meeting.’
‘I already told you I wouldn’t,’ I said, but I suspected she wouldn’t be satisfied with this. And I was right.
‘That’s not the same as swearing a sacred oath,’ Phyllis insisted.
I couldn’t think of what to say to that. But by a great stroke of luck, I didn’t have to say anything, because the door flung open and Julia rushed into the room.
‘Have you seen Mignon?’ she said. ‘I can’t find her anywhere.’ Mignon is a doll that Mother’s aunt who is a nun brought Julia from France a few years ago. She is large and has a china face and hands and the most astonishing clothes, including a beautiful little corset that is just like a grown-up one.
‘Aren’t you a bit old to be playing with dolls?’ said Phyllis, which was jolly rude of her if you ask me. Julia drew herself up to her full height and gave Phyllis a disdain
ful look. (If she could have raised an eyebrow like Phyllis herself, I bet she would have.)
‘I don’t want to play with her,’ she said. ‘Christina is coming and we’re going to make Mignon some new clothes. Mother said we could use her sewing machine.’
‘She’s on the chest of drawers.’ I pointed at Mignon, who was wearing a very impressive plumed hat. ‘Maggie put her there yesterday when she was cleaning the room.’
‘Thank you.’ Julia grabbed the doll. I must say that she’s definitely the most polite member of my family, even if her praying and virtuous expressions can be a little annoying. Maybe all the praying has actually been good for her character? ‘I’m going to make her a frock out of Mother’s old lace nightgown. Do you want to see it?’
‘All right,’ I said, and followed her out of the room.
‘I meant it, Moll,’ said Phyllis in a fierce whisper as I passed her. ‘Don’t come tonight.’
‘I already told you a million times that I wouldn’t,’ I hissed back. And then I ran down the stairs after Julia.
Phyllis didn’t have a chance to harangue me again because by the time I emerged from the dining room, where Christina and Julia were cutting out pieces of a pattern that Mother had helped them to copy from a grown-up dress pattern, she had left for Mabel’s house, where she was going to have tea before heading in to the meeting.
I went back to my room for some peaceful thinking about how we could change into our disguises. I lay down on my bed and stared at the ceiling in the hope of divine inspiration (well, praying clearly works for Julia), and just as I was starting to fall asleep I was struck by a brilliant idea. I was so excited about my brainwave that, when I bounced down the stairs and almost crashed into Frank, who had just arrived home with Harry, I forgot to feel self-conscious or embarrassed.