Chapter 5
Aunt Violet and Talisman went out for the day together, one last holiday outing before Aunt Violet had to go away for a while. That was another difference I noticed between then and now – Aunt Violet would never go out of the house without her hat and gloves on. Talisman just got away with going out bare-headed, but only because they were going out into the countryside, and wouldn’t meet anyone they knew.
Aunt Violet fascinated me. She’d had a pretty tough time of it – three brothers and her fiancĂ© killed in the war, her sister dying from influenza – and yet she wasn’t bitter, twisted or even obviously unhappy. I couldn’t work it out. And then, to my surprise, Talisman said,
“Aunt Violet, may I ask you a slightly personal question?”
“Of course, my dear.”
“How do I grow up to be like you? I mean, all these simply frightful things have happened to you and yet you’re still so ripping. But some people just go all awful – like Mrs Petheridge, back home for instance; remember, I told you about her.”
Aunt Violet smiled very fondly at Talisman.
“You have to go on caring, my dear. You grieve, yes, and there are days that seem blacker than black. But there are always other people to help, who need what you can give. And so you choose to give.”
I had influenced Talisman! I know she hadn’t been asking herself that question; she’d just accepted Aunt Violet unquestioningly. And now I thought about it, I remembered other times I’d done it too. When I’d stood in the old part of the house, and thought about Ship, not idly, but with deep feeling, and Talisman had reached out and touched the wall.
And the other time had been when Talisman had just arrived, and I hadn’t been able to believe what I was seeing – and Talisman had stared and stared as well. But it seemed as though I could only influence her if I was thinking something really major. I had a feeling that this was a really important discovery.
Talisman listened as Aunt Violet talked about the work she’d done during and after the War – hospital visiting, fund-raising, sitting on committees.
“Which sounds very boring, I know, but we do manage to change things. That’s why I need to go away for a while – we have some major business to get through. And then another friend needs my help to set up a scheme for the relief of the poor where she lives – there is so much unemployment and hardship there – so that will take a while as well. But I will miss you very much, my dear.”
“And I will miss you too. Oh, Aunt Violet, I do so love you. You’re the toppingest aunt a girl ever had!”
Aunt Violet left the next day.
“I do want Talisman to carry on with her piano – she’s making such nice progress – so can you make sure she practises each day, please, Miss Aislaby. Her mathematics is still a little weak, though I think she shows great potential, so perhaps she could work on that. And I know you’re just the person to start her off on Latin, as you’re so good at it yourself.”
And distant-cousin-Gertrude assented.
“And I will make sure she writes to you each week, Miss Mallerby. I have the addresses where you will be staying. She can tell you herself of the progress she is making.”
“Thank you , Miss Aislaby.”
Then Aunt Violet hugged Talisman, kissed her, said goodbye, was driven off to the station, and Talisman was alone with Miss Aislaby. The change was immediate.
“That is simply not good enough. You will do the whole exercise again, more neatly this time. Careless, sloppy work is inexcusable!”
Talisman had never been spoken to so roughly in all her life. After all, she’d never been to school, and Aunt Violet had been so patient with her. Which hadn’t been hard. Talisman wanted to please people.
And Talisman’s fear pleased Miss Aislaby. I could tell that. She enjoyed seeing Talisman cringe away from her.
Talisman’s life changed overnight. She was forever in the schoolroom – Miss Aislaby piled on the work.
“You are disgracefully behind. When I was your age, I had thoroughly mastered all four declensions.”
She ate all her meals up there.
“The nursery wing is the proper place for young girls such as you.”
Talisman gazed wistfully out of the window at the gardens she never got to go into any more, and thought longingly of the times she had spent with Aunt Violet, and wished that she was back again. But alas, Aunt Violet’s latest letter had said that her return would be delayed by several weeks more, as there was more business to sort out than she had first realised.
“But I’m pleased to hear how well your music and your lessons are coming on. Much love as always, Aunt Violet.”
There was no hope there.
Talisman’s only solace was her twice-daily piano practice – an hour each time. I think that Miss Aislaby meant it to be more work for Talisman, but actually it was all that kept her going.
“You are just not working hard enough. I am going to have to begin punishing you if you don’t finish the tasks I set you. This is your only warning.”
Talisman was starting to look pale and she was getting thinner. Miss Aislaby insisted on reading Talisman’s weekly letters to her parents and to Aunt Violet, so she had no chance to tell them what was going on. And Miss Aislaby made sure that Talisman never had the chance to talk to MacTavish, or Mrs Frumenty or even Jacob. She took away all the children’s books that Talisman had enjoyed reading.
“You cannot afford to waste your time with them. You need to work and learn.”
And then she swept out of the room, leaving Talisman sobbing bitterly.
The piles of books got higher, and the books got drier, and Talisman was panicking. She was jumping from one bit of work to another, and not concentrating on finishing one piece well. Which was exactly what Miss Aislaby wanted. I could see her gloating over Talisman’s mistakes and unfinished work. She was just longing to punish her, you could tell, but it was as if she had to be able to justify it to herself. Talisman was still totally bewildered by it all.
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I was expecting the bed-with-no-supper routine. I wasn’t prepared for the thin cane which Miss Aislaby produced.
“Any girl in my school who had produced such disgraceful work would have been soundly punished.”
Gosh, I thought, I bet she was a bundle of laughs when she was a teacher.
“Your pampered, spoilt upbringing does not excuse you. Bend over.”
And she gave Talisman three stinging blows on the back of her legs.
“And that work has to be done again properly before tomorrow’s lessons begin.”
Once again she strode out of the room, but this time she locked the door behind her. She left Talisman in tears.
The next two weeks were a nightmare. Talisman’s homework went from bad to worse, and Miss Aislaby had plenty of excuses to pick on her. She didn’t always cane her – Talisman might have got used to that. Just often enough to keep her afraid. She found out that Talisman didn’t like the pitch-dark, so she locked her in the landing cupboard in the evening, after Mrs Frumenty, Jacob and MacTavish had gone home. She even left the key in the lock to block that tiny bit of light. There was the bed-with-no-supper routine, and Talisman got used to being hungry. And if she wasn’t in the room with Talisman, Miss Aislaby locked the door, and her bedroom door at night.
And yet Miss Aislaby was a good teacher. Her explanations were clear and concise – only Talisman was now too nervous to take them in. Miss Aislaby decided that Talisman should wear a school uniform, to help concentrate her mind, and produced some hideous hot and itchy garments, and insisted that Talisman wore them. She only got to wear her pretty Liberty dresses when she was practising the piano – and I could work out why: it was in case MacTavish happened to be working on that side of the house.
Another set of badly-done homework, another flood of tears. I liked Talisman, but she was a bit wet sometimes.
“For goodness’ sake,” I thought furiously, “pull yourself together, Talisman Mallerby. You’ve got to work out how to beat her at her own game. Fight back! She’s walking all over you!”
Fight back? Talisman suddenly straightened up. Once again, I had managed to influence her. Once again, I had felt really strongly about something. Fight back – but how?
“Stop giving her excuses to get at you. Get on top of the work she’s setting you. Stop panicking and do it well. You’ve got a good brain – use it!” And I heard an echo of Granny Thomas in that last thought.
And Talisman did. You could see Miss Aislaby’s frustration as Talisman took away her excuses for punishing her. Miss Aislaby picked up the pace, but Talisman was on a roll (not that she would ever have used that phrase!) and she was enjoying outwitting Miss Aislaby. I just wondered what had made someone with such an obvious gift for teaching so unhappy.
So unhappy! It was like a light bulb going on in my head. But when Ship’s last crew member had said unhappy, I had been expecting someone sad. Not someone who was halfway to being a dangerous lunatic. Why hadn’t I been warned? And where was the guerdon? The answer to that one was obvious – most likely in distant-cousin-Gertrude’s bedroom. But how was Talisman going to be able to look for it? That was a much harder question.
I began to realise how little freedom Talisman had. The only time she was allowed off the nursery floor was to practise the piano. Miss Aislaby was actually controlling every moment of her day. Managing to look in her bedroom was going to be difficult.
As Talisman’s school work improved, Miss Aislaby had to find other ways of getting at her. This time it was an unmade bed, and a bitter rant about how Talisman thought herself too good to do any honest work, not like some people. Well, if she couldn’t appreciate her bed, she could spend the night without it. Distant-cousin-Gertrude seemed to be getting worse, and I suddenly wondered if it was because she – and the stolen guerdon – were here. Near Ship. Was Ship affecting things?
I had a fair idea what Miss Aislaby was planning for Talisman – and suddenly I saw my chance to get into her bedroom. But I had to get Talisman to do something first. If I thought about it hard enough, maybe I could influence her…
A very miserable Talisman was forced to do a hard day’s work. I had to hand it to her – she was now a whizz at maths: the endless practice, and sheer volume of work she had covered had transformed her. I think she had a natural talent for it too – she cottoned on to new ideas so quickly.
Miss Aislaby had the cane very much in evidence, obviously hoping to un-nerve Talisman. Then she dropped her bombshell. Mrs Frumenty, and Jacob, and MacTavish were being given a week’s holiday. It would just be the two of them in the house for the next week. Wouldn’t that be nice?
We had to act that night.
The landing cupboard was dark, dusty and windowless. Talisman hated it. Come bedtime, Miss Aislaby seized her by the wrist and marched her off to it.
“Little girls who don’t appreciate their nice beds can do without them. Maybe spending the night in here will make you more grateful.”
And she closed the door and turned the key in the lock, leaving Talisman alone in the dark. And now we had to wait.
Gradually, the house settled into quietness. The noises of Miss Aislaby using the bathroom, going into her bedroom, turning off the light – all over, and all there was to hear was Talisman’s panicky breathing. Right. Time to put my plan into action. Urgently, I thought hard about what to do, how to use what she had brought with her. And Talisman did it! She took out the sheet of paper she had torn out from her exercise book, and pushed it under the door, below the handle. She took out her pencil and gently, carefully, pushed the key out of the lock. It fell with a little jingle onto the piece of paper. With shaking fingers, Talisman pulled the paper back under the door, and the key came with it!
Then, greatly daring, she crept across the landing and listened outside Miss Aislaby’s bedroom. Steady snoring greeted her ears. She crept into the bedroom and slid open the drawer of the dresser – and as soon as she did this, I could feel that the thing I was looking for was there. With all the force in me, I pushed Talisman to find it, pick it up. Her fingers closed over it – just as Miss Aislaby’s hand gripped her arm.
“So,” she hissed. “I think you have another lesson to learn.”
“Talisman! Fight back! Talisman!” But even as I thought this, everything dissolved again into that strange folded blackness. The only reality was the feel of this strange object between my hands, and a name echoing in my head. “Talisman! Talisman!”
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