Трейси Шевалье - Falling Angel

“Where in God’s name is she?” I cried. Lavinia jumped at my tone and people around us stared. But Caroline Black didn’t even flinch.

“She’s sitting over in the trees.” She pointed back the way we had come.

Lavinia grabbed my arm as I began to walk toward the trees. “What about Ivy May?” she cried. “We must find her!”

“Let’s get to Mummy and then we’ll look for her.” I knew Lavinia was angry at me but I ignored her and kept going.

Mummy was propped up against the trunk of the tree, one leg folded under her, a bare leg stretched out in front.

“Oh, my Lord,” Lavinia murmured. I had forgot that she hadn’t seen Mummy in her costume.

Mummy smiled as we came up, but her face was tense, as if she were struggling to hide something. Her breathing was labored. “Hello, Maude,” she said. “Did you enjoy the procession?”

“How do you feel, Mummy?”

Mummy patted her chest. “Hurts.”

“We must get you home, my dear,” Caroline Black said. “Can you walk?”

“She mustn’t walk,” I interrupted, remembering my first-aid lessons from school. “That may make it worse.”

“Going to be a doctor, are you?” Mummy said. “That’s good. I thought you might become an astronomer, but I’ve been known to be wrong. As long as you become something, I don’t mind what it is. Except perhaps a wife. But don’t tell Daddy that.” She winced as she took a breath. “Go to university.”

“Hush, Mummy. Don’t talk.”

I looked around. Caroline Black and Lavinia were watching me as if I were in charge.

Then I saw a familiar figure striding toward us.

“Thank heaven you’re here, Mr. Jackson!” Lavinia cried, grabbing his arm. “Can you find Ivy May for us?”

“No,” I interrupted. “You must get Mummy to a cab. She needs a doctor quickly.”

Mr. Jackson looked at Mummy. “What has happened, Kitty?”

“She’s been kicked by a horse and can’t breathe,” I said.

“Hello, John,” Mummy murmured. “This is what happens, you see-I dress up as Robin Hood and get kicked by the pantomime horse.”

“Ivy May is lost, Mr. Jackson!” Lavinia shouted. “My little sister has been lost in that horrid crowd!”

Mr. Jackson looked from Mummy to Lavinia. I knew he could not make the decision himself-I would have to do it. “Mr. Jackson, go and find a cab,” I ordered. “You’re more likely to get one than me or Lavinia, and you can carry Mummy to it. Caroline, you wait here with Mummy, and Lavinia and I will look for Ivy May.”

“No!” Lavinia cried, but Mr. Jackson had already run off.

Mummy nodded. “That’s right, Maude. You’re perfectly capable of taking charge.” She remained against the tree, with Caroline Black kneeling awkwardly beside her in her armor.

I took Lavinia’s hand. “We’ll find her,” I said. “I promise.”

We did not find her. We searched everywhere, but we did not find her.

We walked back and forth across the park where the crowds had stood, the grass all trampled as if a herd of cattle had passed through. There were many fewer people now, so it should have been easy to see a little girl on her own. But there were none. Instead there were groups of young men roving about. They made me very nervous, especially when they called out to us. Maude and I linked arms tightly as we walked.

It was so frustrating-we could not find any policemen, nor even any of the suffragettes who had been running about during the procession wearing sashes that read BANNER CAPTAIN or CHIEF MARSHAL. Not one responsible grown-up was about to help.

Then a group of very rough men shouted, “Ahoy there, girls! Fancy a drink?” and came toward us. Well. Maude and I fairly ran our legs off to get out of the park. The men didn’t follow, but I refused to go back in-it was far too dangerous. We stood at the Marble Arch entrance and looked out across the grass, shielding our eyes from the early evening sun.

I was looking not just for Ivy May, but for Simon as well. We had not seen him since he left the procession to go and collect the horse (led by Maude’s mother in that costume! I am speechless. It was no wonder that the horse kicked her). He had said he might come back to the park after. I kept thinking as I looked that they would be together-that Simon would appear, leading Ivy May by the hand. They would be eating ice-creams and they would have them for Maude and me as well. Ivy May would give me a cheeky look, with a little smile and glittering eyes, and I would pinch her for frightening me so.

“She’s not here,” Maude said. “We would have seen her by now. Perhaps she’s gone home. She may have retraced the route we took, back to Euston, and got on an omnibus. She’s not stupid, Ivy May.”

I held up the little purse that dangled from my wrist. “She had no money for the bus,” I whispered. “I made her give it to me for safe-keeping, so she wouldn’t lose it.”

“She may have found her way back,” Maude repeated. “Perhaps we should walk along the procession route and look for her.”

“I’m so very tired. I don’t think I could take another step. Let’s stay here just a little longer.”

Then we did see Simon coming toward us. He looked so small in that great grass expanse, with his hands at his sides, kicking at things that had been left behind-bits of paper, flowers, a lady’s glove. He seemed unsurprised to see us, and unsurprised when Maude said, “Ivy May is missing.”

“Ivy May’s gone,” I said. “She’s gone.” I began to cry.

“She’s missing,” Maude repeated.

Simon gazed at us. I had never seen him look so grave.

“We think she may have gone along the route we marched,” Maude said. “Come with us to look.”

“What were she wearing?” Simon asked. “I didn’t notice before.”

Maude sighed. “A white dress. A white dress like everyone else. And a straw hat with flowers around the brim, like ours.”

Simon fell in beside us and we began walking back down Oxford Street. This time we could not walk down the middle of the street, for it was full of horse-drawn cabs and omnibuses and motorcars. We stayed on the pavement, crowded with people walking back from the demonstration. Simon crossed over to search the other pavement, looking in doorways and down alleys as well as scanning the faces around him.

I could not quite believe we were going to have to walk the whole route again-I was so thirsty and footsore that I did not think I could manage it. But then, as we were going along Upper Regent Street, I saw down a mews a pump for watering horses, and went up and put my whole face under the stream of water that gushed out. I didn’t care if the water was bad or my hair got wet-I was so thirsty I had to drink.

The bell in the clock tower of St. Pancras Station was striking eight when at last we arrived back at our starting point.

“Mama will be frantic with worry,” I said. As tired as I was, I dreaded arriving home to face Mama and Papa.

“It’s still so light out,” Maude said. “It’s the longest day of the year-did you know that? Well, second longest, perhaps, after yesterday.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake shush, Maude.” I could not bear to hear her talk like a teacher in a classroom. Besides which, I had a fearsome headache.

“We’d best go home,” Maude said, ignoring me. “Then we can tell your parents and they can contact the police. And I can find out about Mummy.”

“Your mother,” I began. Suddenly I was so angry I wanted to spit. Maude had sent Mr. Jackson off with her mother rather than have him help us. He would have found Ivy May, I was sure of it. “Your bloody mother got us into this mess.”