Storm and Silence
Page 28‘Gee up!’ The coachman shouted. His whip cracked, and we were off. I was off to my first ball.
‘Now listen carefully, girls,’ my aunt said sternly, looking at all of us in turn. ‘Anne and Maria have already been to balls many times, and Gertrude a few times as well, but for the rest of you, today is your coming out.[17] This first appearance in society is crucial. Therefore it is imperative that all of you, even those of you who normally exhibit strange and unladylike behaviour,’ and she fixed her gaze on me, ‘behave excellently tonight and show the gentlemen only their best side, understood?’
‘Yes, Aunt,’ we all chorused, except Anne and Maria who just kept smiling serenely.
‘I’m serious,’ she said, again for some reason fixing her eyes on me alone. ‘This might be your best or even only chance to find a husband.’
I scowled. I knew it! I knew that was what my aunt planned. A shiver went through me at the thought of being sold off to some stranger. That was no life for me.
‘Don’t squander it,’ my aunt continued. ‘Do your best. Give a good impression, or you might never get another invitation like this again.’
I perked up. Really? So… I would just have to mess up so badly that she never ever would take me to a ball again. So badly that all the gentlemen would take me for the worst monster in town.
A small smile spread on my face and I gripped my fan inside the folds of my dress. That shouldn’t present any problem, now, should it?
The carriage pulled up in front of an impressive façade. It was impressive simply because it was large. Very large. You couldn’t really see anything else of it yet because of the thick pea soup[18] that was drifting in from the River Thames. The house was nothing but a massive, vaguely rectangular shadow in the mist. The greenish glow of gas street lights was shining through the fog, and laughter drifted over to us. Apparently, the guests at the ball were enjoying themselves.
‘Look! Look!’ Excited, Lisbeth pointed out of the window. Before us, gates and a low stone wall had appeared out of the mist. The gates stood wide open, with servants forming an impressive welcoming committee on either side. Hm. This Wilkins fellow had to be seriously rich. No wonder my aunt had been so desperate to get us all here.
The servants stood to attention as the carriage passed. It took us down a short gravel path to the entrance of the house, flanked by two intricately wrought iron lanterns. More servants awaited us there. Good God, how many servants did this Wilkins have? And what did he use them all for? Surely one would be enough to say hello and welcome.
Gravel crunching under its wheels, the carriage stopped in front of the large front door. It stood wide open, just as the gates, and had a red carpet, an actual red carpet in front of it. Three servants jumped forward to open the door, which impressed me very much - after all, it was only one door, with one handle.
My aunt was the first to rise and descended from the carriage as if she were the Queen of England herself. All three of the servants bowed to her, and a smile appeared on her face like that of a vulture who had just found the cadaver of a fat cow. This had to be heaven for her. She hadn’t had anyone bow to her in a very long time other than old Leadfield, and he didn’t do it very often because of his bad back.
‘Madam?’ servant one asked. He held out his hand. Graciously, my aunt took out our invitation and handed it to him.
Servant one examined it carefully, then handed it to servant two, who looked at it and nodded graciously, and then handed it to servant three, who also looked at it, and nodded even more graciously. Good gracious! I was drowning in graciousness here.
‘Very good, Madam,’ servant number one said, bowing so deeply this time his nose almost touched the ground. ‘Welcome to Lenberry Hall, home of Sir Philip Wilkins. If you and your lovely nieces would be so good as to follow me, it shall be my pleasure to conduct you into the interior of my master’s abode.’
Ella leaned over and whispered to me: ‘What did he just say?’
And we both burst out in a fit of giggles. Our aunt threw us a look that could have melted lead and then said to servant number one:
‘Very well, my good man. Lead on.’
With a very flourishy flourish, servant one indicated to servants two and three to join again the other servants congregated around the open front door while he entered the house at a measured, dignified pace. We followed, not quite so dignified - at least not me - entering a large hallway, and I had to vigorously employ my jaw muscles to prevent my mouth from falling open at the sight of the opulent splendour awaiting us:
The walls were a pale beige colour, softly illuminated by large, glittering chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Around the bottom, the walls were panelled in costly, dark woods that gave off a warm glow all of their own. Paintings of stately men hung on the walls, each in a frame that looked to be pure gold. What the floor was made out of I couldn’t really see, for it was covered with large and fancy oriental carpets - but it was sure to be something darn expensive.
‘Your coat, Miss?’ I turned my head to look at servant… three? Or was it four? Who had popped out of nowhere and was holding out his arms.
‘What about my coat?’ I asked.
‘May I take your coat, Miss?’
‘No, of course not. It’s mine.’
Preferring not to give the rather self-evident answer to that question, I divested myself of my coat and thrust it at servant three.
‘Here. Make sure nobody nicks it; it’s my only one.’
My aunt closed her eyes as if in pain. Or as if counting to ten to prevent an explosion. I wasn’t quite sure which.
Servant of unidentified number cleared his throat. ‘Err… most assuredly, Miss.’
He hurried into a small side-room in which a multitude of hats, coats and scarves was already stored. Servants number four, five and six, who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, began to help my sisters and aunt out of their outer garments, which apparently everybody thought they were either unable or unwilling to do themselves. Chauvinism. Pure chauvinism.