Susan came in from the kitchen, wiping her hands. “Oh,” Lady Thorton said. “There you are. I’ve decided to move in with you.”
Chapter 16
“Please don’t let her,” I said to Susan later when we were alone, chopping vegetables for dinner.
“There’s no let,” Susan said. “This is her house. She’s letting us stay with her. It’s not my decision.”
The government was kicking Lady Thorton out of Thorton House because they wanted Thorton House for something to do with the war. In wartime the government could take over whatever they liked. Lady Thorton had two weeks to move.
“Can’t she afford to stay somewhere else? Somewhere nicer?”
“Of course she can,” Susan said. “She doesn’t want to.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“It doesn’t matter whether you do,” Susan said. “But try to imagine how she feels, rattling around that huge empty place. Her husband, children, servants, all gone, most of the rooms shut up. Don’t you think she’s been terribly lonely?”
It was hard to imagine Lady Thorton having feelings. “She’s always busy,” I said. “And she has that housekeeper.”
“The housekeeper’s going to live with her sister in Lyme Regis,” Susan replied. “Lady Thorton has friends in the village, everything she’s used to is here, and if she stays with us she won’t have to be alone. I think living with us will be good for her.”
I thought about it. “Does she really have friends?” I asked. “In the village, I mean.” None of the women who rode in the paper chase had been from the village.
“Yes,” Susan said, with asperity. “She has me.”
• • •
For a week, Lady Thorton sorted her furniture and belongings, storing things in the attics of Thorton House or having them moved into our cottage. She took one of the two empty bedrooms for herself, but, instead of giving Maggie the other, decided that whenever Maggie wasn’t at school she would share my room with me.
Lady Thorton took half my bedroom away, and Susan didn’t stop her. Lady Thorton moved my things aside and covered them up and changed them, and Susan let her do it.
Lady Thorton wanted the last bedroom for what she called a guest room, for when Jonathan or someone else came to stay.
The whole cottage looked different with Lady Thorton’s stuff in it. We had more pots and pans and dishes than we could ever use. We had a different, bigger kitchen table, extra kitchen chairs, a plush sofa, and a fancy wing chair in the sitting room. A radio again, bigger than Susan’s old one. A fender for the fire, rugs everywhere, paintings on the walls. The painting above the mantel, Lady Thorton said, was quite good, but it was of dead game birds and I hated it. A horse painting went into the kitchen. I liked it better.
The first night after Lady Thorton finished moving in we ate dinner together. Susan and I cooked. Lady Thorton sat at the head of the new table, in the place Susan usually took.
I said, “Jonathan doesn’t get leave very often. When he does, he can share Jamie’s room. Then Maggie could have her own bedroom.”
Lady Thorton looked at me coolly. She said, “I imagined you girls would enjoy sharing.”
That was true in one way, but in another way it wasn’t. I started to speak again. Across the table Susan shook her head at me, hard. I didn’t know why—she never minded my having an opinion—but I closed my mouth.
Lady Thorton didn’t even clear her own place at the table. She got up and went out. Jamie started carrying the dishes to the sink. Susan waited until the door clicked shut on Lady Thorton, then said, “Do you dislike sharing your bedroom with Maggie? I never thought you would.”
“Of course not,” I said. “I’d share anything I had with Maggie.”
“Then what’s the matter?”
I struggled to find words for my feelings. Susan waited. Finally I said, “I’d never mind sharing my room with Maggie. But Lady Thorton’s turned it into Maggie’s room, that she’s sharing with me.” I paused. “I know I’ll never be like Maggie. I just never felt this different from her before.”
Susan raised her eyebrows. “Show me.”
• • •
Lady Thorton had put another bed into what had been my room. She’d taken away my dresser, added a glossy wardrobe, and replaced my small bookshelf with a larger one. Two of its shelves were stuffed full of Maggie’s books, while my dictionary lay sideways next to my box on the third. Lady Thorton had emptied a drawer in Maggie’s wardrobe for my socks and underwear, and pushed Maggie’s mass of dresses over to leave room for mine, but as I only had three—two day dresses and a new Sunday one—they hardly took up any room.
Lady Thorton had spread matching coverlets over both beds, and frilly pillows, and strange lacy curtains that hung from under the mattresses to the floor. She’d hung ruffled curtains over the window outside the blackout frame. She’d spread a wool rug from Maggie’s old room on the floor between the beds and plastered the whole wall above Maggie’s bed with framed photographs.
Susan said, “I see. But you know, before we were bombed you had a rug and curtains. You had more clothing too.”
“Not like Maggie’s clothes,” I said.
Susan reached into the wardrobe and fingered the fabric of one of Maggie’s dresses. “Not many girls your age have clothes like Margaret Thorton,” she said.
“The Honorable Margaret Thorton,” I said. It was Maggie’s official title. Not Lord or Lady, but close enough.
“That sounds jealous,” Susan said. “Are you?”
“No!” I said. “I don’t care about Maggie’s things. But this doesn’t look like my room anymore, and nobody asked me. Nobody asked if I wanted a different coverlet or lace around the bottom of my bed. Nobody asked what I wanted at all. The whole house doesn’t look like ours anymore. It looks like it belongs to Lady Thorton.”
Susan pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. I squirmed away. “It does belong to Lady Thorton,” she said. “I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s true.”
“She should have asked,” I said.
“I agree,” said Susan. “With your room, she should have. I’m glad for the new kitchen things, and a more comfortable sitting room, but I wouldn’t have wanted Lady Thorton rearranging my bedroom either.”
“I never had my own space before.”
Susan nodded. “It was important to you.”
“I didn’t realize it,” I said, “but it was.” I leaned into her a little bit.
“Would you rather share my room?” Susan asked. “I’d give you half the space, and you could keep it however you wished.”
I considered. “Lady Thorton wouldn’t like that.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Susan said. “I’ll handle it with her, if it’s what you want.”
I thought some more. “I don’t know,” I said. “Let me wait and see how it is when Maggie’s here.” I loved being around Maggie. It was Lady Thorton I felt anxious about.
“That’s fine,” Susan said. “Meanwhile, you can do anything to your side of the room that you want. Change it back as much as you like. Just leave Maggie’s belongings alone. And keep your door shut—what Lady Thorton doesn’t see, she can’t grieve over.”
• • •
It was odd to have Lady Thorton inside our house at night. She took her bath right after supper, then sat downstairs in her dressing gown. Lady Thorton wearing a dressing gown. I couldn’t help but stare. She sat in the big wing chair, slippered feet on a needlework footstool, silently reading. I watched her turn the pages. “Ada, please,” she said, looking up, “I am not on exhibit in a zoo.”
I looked at the wall. Jamie said, “What’s a zoo?”
Lady Thorton raised her eyebrows. Susan replied calmly, “It’s a park where they have all sorts of unusual animals in cages, and people pay money to go look at th
em. There’s a big zoo in London.”
“Like a freak show,” said Jamie. Who knew where he’d heard that.
“Not especially,” Lady Thorton said.
“What sort of animals?” I asked.
“All sorts,” Susan said. “Ones you read about in books. Monkeys, zebras. Lions.”
“I am not a monkey,” said Lady Thorton. “Throw peanuts at me and I will not respond.” This didn’t make sense to me, but Lady Thorton and Susan smiled.
• • •
The very next morning, Lord Thorton came home. He pulled up to our cottage in an automobile, and when he held open its door a girl a few years older than me climbed out. She had dark hair and pale skin and an expression like Jamie’s cat: self-contained and wary.
Susan and Lady Thorton came out.
“Hello, ladies,” Lord Thorton said, taking a suitcase from the backseat of the car. “Hello, Ada.” He put his hand on the girl’s shoulder and propelled her forward a step. “Susan, I’ve brought you the project I promised. Her name is Ruth.”
I stared at Ruth. She stared back, indignant—whether at me or at being called a “project,” I didn’t know.
“She’s sixteen,” Lord Thorton said. “She’s preparing for her Oxford entrance exams, and you’re going to be paid to tutor her in maths. I have a list of topics she needs to thoroughly understand.” He cleared his throat and added, “Her father is a statistician from Dresden.”
Susan jerked, startled. Lady Thorton froze. I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what statistician meant.
Ruth dropped her gaze to the ground. Her shoulders tightened. Her cheeks turned red.
“Unbelievable.” Lady Thorton sounded outraged. “I will not have a German in this house.”
Chapter 17
A German? I stared at Ruth, trying to work out which word Lord Thorton said meant German. Statistician?
Susan put her hand on my shoulder. “Dresden is a city in Germany,” she said.
Lord Thorton sighed. “Her family came to England in June 1939,” he said. “Over a year and a half ago. Since the Battle of Britain, her parents have been held in an internment camp. We’re doing our best to get her father released. We need his skills on our side.”
Lady Thorton said, “No. I won’t have it.”
“They’re Jewish,” said Lord Thorton. “They’re refugees.”
Lady Thorton said, “A German is a German is a German.”
Lord Thorton frowned. “You know that isn’t true.”
Ruth didn’t look up. Her cheeks flamed. I stared at her. A German! We saw German soldiers on the newsreels. They reminded me of Hitler with their cold dark eyes. Some of them even had tiny square mustaches. You could tell by looking at them that they were evil.
Ruth had dark brown hair, neatly bobbed. She certainly didn’t have a mustache. I couldn’t see what color her eyes were, but she looked normal enough to me.
But then, the spy I’d caught last summer looked normal too. He even spoke English without a German accent. He’d still been a spy. Ruth was the enemy. She ought to be in jail, or at least not living with us.
Susan exhaled deeply. She studied Lord Thorton. She said, “It will be fine.”
Lady Thorton said, “It will not.”
“It will,” Lord Thorton said. “This is important.”
Lady Thorton’s nostrils flared. She said, “We are at war with Germany. Our son is risking his life to defeat the Germans. I will not harbor an enemy in my house.”
“I realize we are at war!” Lord Thorton barked. “I understand more than you know.” His voice settled as he gathered himself under control. “I would never ask you or Susan to do anything dishonorable. I assure you.”
Susan said, “Of course not.”
Lady Thorton said, “Education is a luxury in wartime. Jonathan left Oxford to fight. I do not see why this girl’s education should be placed ahead of his.”
“You must trust me,” Lord Thorton said.
Lady Thorton sputtered. “What on earth am I to tell the village?”
“Anything you’d like.”
Lady Thorton said, “We don’t have anywhere for her to sleep.”
Lord Thorton said, “You have a spare bedroom.”
Lady Thorton said, “That’s for when Jonathan comes home.”
Lord Thorton said, “Spare rooms are a luxury in wartime.”
Lady Thorton sucked in her breath. I could see we were in for a storm. Susan shot a glance at me. “Ada,” she said, “you and Jamie take Ruth upstairs.”
Chapter 18
I led the way up the stairs to the brand-new spare room. I guessed it wouldn’t be used for Jonathan now. Ruth set her small suitcase unopened onto the foot of the bed. I wondered what Germans carried with them. My spy had had a wireless set.
Jamie had lingered on the stairs. Now he popped his head through the door. “They’re arguing about Germans,” he said. “Is this the invasion?”
“No,” I said. “Remember? That’s off.”
Jamie said, “Then why’ve we got a German here?”
It was a good question. I sat down on the desk chair and watched Ruth.
“I hate Hitler as much as you do,” Ruth said. She spoke with a heavy accent, but I could understand her. “Probably more. You heard Mr. Thorton say that I’m Jewish?”
I shrugged. I had no idea what that meant. “His name is Lord Thorton. And it’s none of my business,” I said.
“It’s not, except that you must know how Hitler feels about Jews.”
I only knew how Germans felt about Brits. They bombed us. “It’s not my business,” I repeated. Ruth would make a lousy spy. Unless she was faking the accent, to lure us in. “Get out of here, Jamie,” I said. He didn’t need to be associating with Germans.
Jamie ignored me. “Say something German,” he said.
Ruth did. I shivered.
“What’s that mean?” Jamie asked.
“It means,” Ruth said, “I used to think I was German. I don’t belong anywhere anymore.” She stared back at me coldly. “May I have some privacy?”
“I’m not sure I’m allowed to leave you alone.”
Ruth scowled. “I’m here to learn maths. That’s all.” When I didn’t respond she said, “Very well. Show me where the loo is. Do you want to watch me use it?”
I didn’t.
As we left the room, I grabbed the framed photo of Jonathan Thorton off the bedside table.
Ruth said, “Is that your brother?”
“It’s Lord Thorton’s son. He’s a pilot. Fighting the Germans,” I said.
• • •
I didn’t go into the bathroom with Ruth, but I waited in the hallway outside the door until Susan called me and Jamie down. “Lord and Lady Thorton are taking a walk,” Susan said. “Jamie, sweep up all this mud. Ada, set the table. Six places.”
“But no one’s watching her,” I said.
“No one needs to. She isn’t a spy.”
“How do you know?” I asked. When Susan didn’t reply I added, “Is she really going to live with us?”
“Yes,” Susan said.
“Is this the project you had in mind?”
Susan sighed. “No,” she said. “I hope Lady Thorton understands that.”
I didn’t think Susan really wanted to work, even if it was something as easy as teaching maths. Taking care of Jamie and me was already more than she ever wanted to do. Now she had to manage Lady Thorton too, and on top of that a German. “I’ll help,” I said.
“I know,” said Susan.
It grew dark. Jamie and I put the blackout up. We tried to go into Ruth’s room to put the blackout over the window there, but Ruth had locked the door. I hadn’t even realized the bedroom doors could lock.
“It’s the blackout,” I shouted.
br /> “I don’t have a light on,” she shouted back. “Go away.”
We ran downstairs to tell Susan.
“She’s locked herself in,” I said. “She must be planning something. She could have a wireless in that suitcase.”
Jamie said, “Or a bomb. We don’t want bombs.”
Susan lifted her eyebrows. “Ruth doesn’t have a bomb. She’s a child.”
“She’s older than Stephen,” I said. “He’s fighting in the war.” At least, I assumed he was. I’d written him twice but not heard back.
Susan said, “Ada? Do you trust Lord Thorton?”
“Of course not.”
She laughed and covered her face with her hands. “I walked into that,” she said. “All right. Let’s put it this way. Whom do you trust more, me or Lady Thorton?”
I understood what she was getting at. “All right,” I said.
“What’s the answer?”
“I’ll put up with Ruth.”
“You will not ‘put up’ with her,” Susan retorted. “You’ll be kind to her. You’ll try to be her friend.”
I wasn’t promising that. I had Maggie. Also, who wanted to be friends with a German?
Susan went upstairs and knocked on the spare room door. “Ruth, would you like to come down for some tea?”
Ruth said, “No, thank you.”
“Dinner is in half an hour. Please come down then.”
“Thank you. I will.”
Susan came back down the stairs, wiping her hands on her skirt. “See? Not difficult.”
Jamie and I exchanged glances. Ruth could absolutely still have a wireless set. Or a bomb.
Chapter 19
Lord and Lady Thorton didn’t return. Susan said we’d waited long enough and would eat without them. Ruth came down and sat quietly at the place Susan indicated. She put her napkin on her lap. We watched her. She took a sip of water. We watched.
“Stop staring at Ruth,” Susan said. “Jamie. Eat your supper.” Supper was hot pot, which was sausage, potatoes, turnips, and carrots all baked together in the oven for hours.