Little Stars

  But I lay awake a long time, tormented by images of Bertie and Ivy Green entwined. Diamond slept fitfully, and was awake again before dawn. I woke to find her crouching by the mirror, peering at herself by the light of the candle.

  ‘Careful! Watch your hair! Goodness, I wish you wouldn’t light that candle by yourself,’ I said, leaping out of bed. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m seeing if I really look like a ghost,’ said Diamond.

  ‘Take no notice of that stupid Ivy – she was talking nonsense. You’re just a bit pale, that’s all,’ I said. ‘We just need to put the roses back in your cheeks.’

  Sea air!

  The words suddenly came into my head. Was it Mama? Was it me? It didn’t matter. It was a truly excellent idea!

  ‘I’M TAKING YOU to the seaside, Diamond,’ I said. ‘If we get up now, quiet as little mice so as not to wake Miss Gibson, we might well catch the milk train. We’ll ask the man in the ticket office about the connections. I want to take you to the best seaside ever!’

  ‘Are we running away again?’ she asked.

  ‘No, this is going to be a special day trip. It will make us feel so much better. Have you ever seen the sea? It’s so wonderful – so big. We’ll run on the sand and paddle and maybe ride a donkey. And then I will take you to the most special place ever! Just you wait and see.’

  We got dressed and I cut us slices of bread and jam and filled a bottle with water to drink on the train. I put our wages in my purse. I also pocketed a tape measure and some scraps from bolts of material on Miss Gibson’s shelves.

  ‘What are they for?’ asked Diamond.

  ‘You’ll see! Now, I’d better write Miss Gibson a note to explain where we’ve gone,’ I said.

  ‘Shouldn’t we invite her to come to the seaside too?’

  ‘No, she’s still asleep. And she’ll want to go to church. This is a special outing just for you and me,’ I said, hurriedly scribbling a few sentences.

  ‘And Bertie?’

  ‘Oh, bother Bertie. We don’t need him. We’ll go and have a lovely time, just us. Come on!’

  Diamond started hurrying. There was something about her automatic obedience that worried me. Does she have to do everything you say? I hated Ivy Green!

  ‘You don’t have to come to the seaside if you don’t want to,’ I said, when Diamond rushed back from the outside privy.

  She stopped short, looking worried. ‘Don’t you want to any more, Hetty?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then I do too.’

  ‘Yes, but you don’t have to do everything I do. You can argue or shout back or tell me I’m stupid. If you want.’

  Diamond blinked at me. ‘Is that what you want me to do?’

  ‘Oh, I give up! Come on then. Seaside, here we come!’

  It was a much longer journey than I remembered, but Diamond enjoyed the train ride itself, standing at the door, hanging onto the window strap and peering out at the countryside.

  ‘We’re going so fast!’ she kept shouting, above the noise of the train.

  ‘Fast-to-the-sea! Fast-to-the-sea!’ I sang, to the rhythm of the clacking wheels. After a few minutes all the folk crammed into our third-class carriage started singing it too.

  We’d eaten our jam sandwich and drunk our water within half an hour, but everybody else had great picnic hampers, and generously shared them round. Diamond and I feasted on chicken legs and pork pies and mutton pasties and custard tarts. We wouldn’t need any lunch when we got to the seaside – maybe just a hokey-pokey ice cream or two!

  We drew in to the last station on the line.

  ‘Bignor-on-Sea! Bignor-on-Sea! Your journey ends here, ladies and gentlemen. Please vacate the train!’ the porters shouted.

  ‘Bignor?’ said Diamond. ‘Oh, Hetty! This is where you lived once, isn’t it? And your mama.’

  ‘Yes, my lovely mama lived here too . . .’ I swallowed.

  I live in your heart now, my Hetty.

  ‘Will you be sad now?’ Diamond asked softly.

  ‘No, I’m going to be very happy showing you the seaside,’ I said.

  I took Diamond’s hand and we walked out of the crowded station, down the street, round the corner – and there was the sea spread out before us, blue-grey and glistening, the crest of the waves whipped white in the breeze.

  ‘Oooooh!’ Diamond gasped.

  ‘Look to the left. Look to the right. Sea, all sea,’ I said.

  ‘Isn’t it wonderful! And all the yellow carpet.’

  ‘That’s sand, lovely soft sand.’

  ‘People are walking on it.’

  ‘We’ll walk on it too. Take your shoes and socks off. I will too.’

  We sat on the steps baring our feet, and then jumped down from the promenade onto the beach.

  ‘Oh, it feels funny!’ said Diamond, curling her toes and waddling weirdly.

  ‘Let’s run.’

  We raced backwards and forwards. The wind seized my hair and unravelled half my careful topknot, so I let it all free. It flew about my head like a red flag. Then we went right down to the damp dark sand at the very edge of the sea. Diamond went rushing forward, and then squealed because she hadn’t expected the sea to be so very cold.

  ‘It’ll get warmer in a minute. We’ll paddle together,’ I said.

  We waded in the shallows, watching bolder swimmers emerging from the bathing machines and taking an all-over dip.

  ‘Don’t they look funny in their combinations!’ cried Diamond.

  ‘You could do with some yourself. Look at your dress – it’s soaking!’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Diamond, flapping it worriedly.

  ‘It’s all right, it’ll dry in the sun. Look at those donkeys! Would you like a ride on a donkey, Diamond?’

  The rides were only for children, but I was small enough to pass as a child myself. I waited to ride the donkey I’d always chosen, the little grey one called Polly with a cross on her back. She gave me a little whinnying greeting, almost as if she remembered me. Diamond picked one called Rosie, and whispered to her lovingly all the way up the beach and back.

  Then we went to the hokey-pokey cart and chose two vanilla ice creams with strawberry sauce.

  ‘This is the best food ever!’ said Diamond, licking extravagantly.

  She got ice cream all down the front of her dress, but I didn’t tell her in case she started worrying. She looked so happy now. The dark circles under her eyes were fading and her cheeks were pink again.

  ‘I like Bignor better than anywhere else in the world,’ she declared. ‘Can’t we come and live here, Hetty?’

  ‘Maybe one day,’ I said. ‘Shall I show you the house I’d like to live in? It’s very pretty.’

  I didn’t need to consult the big map of the town on the promenade. I’d never forget the way. We walked along the rose-pink pavement, down Victoria Avenue, all the way to Saltdean Lane. There were all the pretty villas painted cream and apricot and lilac, with bright window boxes and tubs of flowers.

  ‘Oh yes, I love these little houses!’ said Diamond. ‘Which one shall we choose? Could we maybe have the very pale purple one?’

  ‘We could – but wait till you see number eighteen,’ I told her.

  It was painted cream with a blue door, and there were the pink hydrangeas on either side, looking so fresh and pretty.

  ‘Oh yes, this one’s lovely! I wonder what it’s like inside,’ said Diamond.

  ‘It’s crammed full of knick-knacks and it’s all rather old-fashioned and dark and stuffy because the owner is a mean old lady who doesn’t care for anyone but herself – but when we move in, we can make it beautiful. We shall just own a few beautiful things and have modern cotton curtains in designs by Mr William Morris because we’ll be very artistic ladies,’ I declared. ‘We’ll change every room except one – the little attic room right at the top of the house.’

  ‘Why won’t we change that one?’

  ‘Because that’s where Mama slept,’ I
said quietly.

  ‘Oh, Hetty.’ Diamond put her hand in mine.

  ‘She’s sleeping all the time now. Shall I show you where?’

  Diamond nodded doubtfully. ‘Is it a graveyard?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, it is. I need to go there, just to say hello to Mama, but you don’t have to come if the idea frightens you. I can leave you sitting on the seafront with another ice cream and then come back and collect you.’

  I thought she’d jump at this, but she shook her head. ‘I’ll come with you,’ she said.

  The graveyard was cool and quiet after the sunny hurly-burly of the seafront. Great yew trees towered on either side of the lych gate, showing that we were entering the land of the dead. Stone angels balanced on gravestones, their wings outspread.

  Diamond shivered when she saw them. ‘Has your mama got an angel?’ she asked.

  ‘No, I couldn’t afford one. But she has a proper headstone,’ I said proudly.

  I’d had to work for many weeks at Mr Clarendon’s Seaside Curiosities before I saved enough money. It was a simple white stone, but I asked if the stonecutter could possibly carve a small violet at either top corner, and he’d done just that. The carving said: EVIE EDENSHAW (IDA BATTERSEA), BELOVED MOTHER OF HETTY FEATHER. Then the date of her birth and death, and finally two more words: SORELY MISSED.

  Oh, so sorely missed! I knelt down in front of the stone and tried to imagine Mama beneath me, lying in her white nightgown.

  ‘I love you so, Mama,’ I whispered. I closed my eyes, but tears trickled down my cheeks.

  Diamond dabbed at them very carefully with the sleeve of her dress and then put her arm round me.

  I hadn’t thought to bring any flowers and I didn’t feel I could trail Diamond all the way back to the town to buy any. I searched the path nearby for little white pebbles instead, Diamond helping me. When we had enough, I spelled out a few words in front of Mama’s gravestone: I LOVE YOU MAMA.

  Diamond read them out slowly. ‘That’s lovely, Hetty.’

  ‘Perhaps one day we’ll go and find your mama and we can spell out a message for her too,’ I said, standing up and stretching. ‘Do you know where she is buried?’

  ‘It was at the church near home. She loved going to church, my ma. But I don’t want to go back to find her, in case Pa sees me,’ said Diamond. ‘I don’t want to see my brothers either because they always plagued me. I’d quite like to see Mary-Martha because she was a kind big sister, but I love you much more, Hetty. I don’t think I want any family but you.’

  ‘I shall always be a sister to you, I promise,’ I told her.

  ‘This is your very special place, isn’t it, Hetty,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘So do we have to go back home now?’ she asked.

  ‘No, not yet. We’re going visiting. I have a friend here in Bignor.’

  ‘Really! Is she in one of those pretty houses?’

  ‘No, she lives in a very strange place. At least, I hope she will still be there. Let’s find out.’

  We left the quiet graveyard. I stopped at the lych gate and turned to wave at Mama. Diamond waved too. Then we made our way back to the seafront and walked along the promenade to the red-and-white striped tent right at the end.

  ‘No!’ said Diamond, stopping still. ‘I don’t want to go there! There will be clowns!’

  ‘It’s not a circus, I promise, Diamond. Look, see the notice. Spell it out.’

  Diamond tried, but she had problems with words of more than one syllable.

  ‘It says Mr Clarendon’s Seaside Curiosities,’ I said. ‘Now, you mustn’t be frightened. There are some extraordinary people inside and they look very strange, but they are all perfectly fine. I worked there myself for a while.’

  ‘But you don’t look strange, Hetty.’

  ‘I dressed up as Emerald the Amazing Pocket-Sized Mermaid. I cut up my best green dress to make a mermaid tail. I had to lie on a little mound of sand and comb my hair.’

  ‘Did folk think you were a real mermaid?’

  ‘Probably not. They just used to like to stare at me.’

  ‘And all you had to do was comb your hair? You didn’t have to say any lines or do any tricks? I should like to be a mermaid!’ said Diamond.

  ‘Prepare to be truly amazed!’ wafted along the promenade.

  ‘Who’s saying that? And why does it sound so funny?’ asked Diamond, looking around.

  ‘It’s Mr Clarendon and he’s speaking through a loudhailer – that’s why it sounds so tinny.’

  ‘I can’t see him!’

  ‘That man all in red, to match his tent.’

  ‘Oh my goodness. He’s even got a red bowler hat! He sounds funny and he looks funny,’ said Diamond.

  ‘If you think Mr Clarendon looks strange, wait till you see all the living curiosities,’ I said. ‘But promise you won’t say anything to hurt anyone’s feelings.’

  We approached the tent. Mr Clarendon spotted me, stopped yelling into his loudhailer, and did a theatrical double take. ‘Oh my, it’s Miss Emerald Mermaid herself!’

  ‘I’ve two legs and no tail at all,’ I said.

  ‘I’d know that red hair anywhere! It’s good to see you, girl. And who have we here? Oh, what a picture. I can just see it now – little Snowdrop, our Living Fairy!’

  ‘I used to have wings and a fairy wand,’ said Diamond obligingly.

  ‘There you are then! How about a little tableau – two beautiful mythical creatures for the price of one? That would pull the crowds. I’d pay you royally, of course.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Clarendon, we’re in another line of business now. We’re music-hall artistes,’ I said proudly. ‘We’re here to see Freda. She is still part of the show, isn’t she?’

  ‘She is indeed. My top draw – though you rivalled her while you were here. Sure you don’t want to change your mind? I’ve heard the music hall can be very gruelling, whereas here you could be a little lady of leisure reclining on your sand.’

  ‘I’m afraid you can’t tempt me, Mr Clarendon.’ I stepped into the tent, pulling Diamond with me.

  ‘That will be sixpence each, please,’ he said.

  ‘What?’ I said, astonished. ‘You’re going to charge us?’

  ‘You’re here to see my Curiosities, aren’t you? Well, one of them. Look, I’ll let you in for sixpence the pair – that’s children’s rate.’

  I sighed and handed him sixpence, then took Diamond inside, past the first little seaside section of shells and stuffed fish, through to the living exhibits. I led her past Henry, the Man with One Hundred Tattoos and Pirate Pete, Scourge of the Seven Seas. They both nodded at me. Diamond held my hand tight.

  We hurried to the next partition and, oh joy, there was my dear friend Fantastic Freda, the Female Giant. She was standing on her upturned bucket to make her look even taller, wearing the special dress I’d made for her.

  ‘Oh, Freda, dear Freda!’ I cried.

  ‘Emerald!’ She stepped down from her bucket, bent down and picked me up in her great hands.

  ‘Don’t drop her!’ Diamond said.

  Freda cradled me gently in her burly arms. ‘I’ve missed you so, my dear friend,’ she said.

  ‘She’s my dear friend now,’ Diamond insisted.

  ‘Yes, this is Diamond, Freda.’

  ‘Hello, my dear. My, aren’t you little and pretty! And so is my new dear friend. Please let me introduce you,’ said Freda.

  She set me down very carefully and led us to the next partition. She had to bend down to get through. We followed her – and there was a minute little person sitting cross-legged on a rug. At first I thought she was a tiny child, even though she was dressed in a fashionable gown and her hair was in a bun. But when I looked at her face closely, I saw that she was actually a grown woman, though of course she had scarcely grown at all. Even Diamond towered above her.

  ‘Meet Lucy Locket, the Littlest Woman in the World,’ Freda announced proudly. ‘Lucy, this is
Emerald, who used to be the Amazing Pocket-Sized Mermaid here, and was always so kind to me. She made me my beautiful dress!’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Lucy Locket, holding out her tiny hand. Her voice was as little as her person, and very pleasant.

  I shook her hand warmly. ‘This is my friend Diamond,’ I said.

  ‘Dear friend,’ Diamond corrected, but she shook hands politely.

  ‘Freda’s told me so many stories about you, Emerald. When we can’t get to sleep at night, I always ask for another tale about you. You were very kind to my Freda,’ said Lucy Locket.

  I was so happy that Freda had found such a good friend now. I’d always been worried that she would be lonely after I left Clarendon’s.

  ‘And her dress is exquisite! I had to have my costume specially made for me and it cost a fortune, but Freda said her gown was a gift,’ said Lucy.

  ‘Yes indeed – and I’m here to measure Freda for another gown,’ I said. ‘I promised to make it a long time ago.’

  ‘You’re going to measure me? Why, do you think I’ve grown!’ said Freda, joking easily about her size.

  I wondered how I was going to get Freda’s correct upper measurements, but Lucy kept a stepladder in the corner of her booth so she could reach things, and this came in very handy. It seemed rude to ignore Lucy, so I offered her a new gown too, and took her weeny little measurements as well. I showed them the samples of material. They both liked the same print – white with red cherries.

  ‘But we can’t really have the same,’ said Lucy wistfully. ‘You have the cherry print, Freda.’

  ‘No no, my dear, it will suit you much better. It will look enchanting. You must have it,’ said Freda.

  ‘Why don’t you both have the cherries? They will be wonderful for work – red and white to match the awning of the tent. And then, when you are strolling down the promenade together, you will be a walking advertisement for the Curiosities. Mr Clarendon will be thrilled,’ I said.

  I was fully aware that the dresses were going to be a challenge, and I was only halfway through Mrs Ruby’s promised gown, but I felt that Freda and Lucy deserved special new outfits. They were exceptionally grateful.

  Diamond and I waited until Mr Clarendon closed the tent at five, so his artistes could have an hour’s break before the evening session. Freda and Lucy Locket insisted on taking us both to a delightful fish restaurant on the seafront. We all had cod and fried potatoes. Lucy cut her fish in half and gave it to Freda, and donated most of her fried potatoes too. We all toasted each other in ginger beer and declared firm and lasting friendship.