The Flight of Gemma Hardy_ A Novel - Margot Livesey [99]
“How old are you?” he said.
“Eighteen.”
“Eighteen.” He shook his head. “People will call me a cradle snatcher.”
“Is that worse than being a gold digger?”
“Yes, because I should be old enough to know better. I would not want anyone, especially you, to say that I had taken advantage of you.”
I felt as if I were back on the Brough of Birsay, standing on the edge of the cliff, the wind at my back, the birds, silver and black, soaring, and, just for a moment, everything in my life, even the losses, made sense because everything had been bringing me to this room.
“People will say things whatever we do,” I said. “As long as we don’t.”
“Little sphinx. Don’t you wonder if what the fortune-teller told Coco is true?”
I said that I did. “Claypoole seemed fine and then, from one day to the next, it was bankrupt. Now Blackbird Hall is my home, so if you’re going to sell the house I need to know.”
“And what will you do then?”
He was looking at me searchingly. Suddenly I understood that he had not brought me here to tell me that he had heard my secret messages, that he wanted nothing more than to spend his days at Blackbird Hall with me, going on expeditions. How stupid I was to have granted that notion a moment’s purchase. No, he was trying to break the news that the house, and its occupants, were about to disappear.
“I’ll have to find another job,” I said, “one where I get board and lodging. Vicky will give me a good reference. But nowhere will be as nice as here.” I spoke these last words so softly that I was not sure he heard them.
“And won’t you be angry with me, Gemma, if I evict you from your home, like a cuckoo?”
“Cuckoos can’t help it and I suppose you can’t either. What will happen to Nell? I hate to think of her lost in some school, being bullied and scolded. She needs someone to be patient with her.”
“As you have valiantly been. You’ve done wonders with her, and I will make sure that no one undoes your good work.”
Years ago Dr. White had described my walking to the hospital as valiant, and that too had ended in disaster. Why did I always need to be valiant? Why couldn’t I have a home, like other people? If only my uncle hadn’t gone skating on that February day. If only Miriam hadn’t forgotten to breathe. If only Miss Bryant hadn’t run out of money before I could take my exams. And now, added to all those other losses, was the loss of Mr. Sinclair. I had cherished the hope that, despite our many inequalities, he had understood me: the stealthy cyclist. Quite gently, he had taken that away. Save for his hands holding mine I would have run back to my room.
“And what about me?” he said. “What should I do if I lose my home and my job?”
“You? What do you have to worry about with all your posh friends? Even if you can’t be a banker, you can bale hay and give advice. You’ll have to have fewer parties, and Nell won’t have as many new clothes, but you won’t starve.”
He laughed, a little unsteadily. “That’s what I love about you, Gemma. You’re so dauntless, you go directly from A to B. Whereas all my life I’ve gone from A to B by way of G.” He kissed me and pulled me down beside him into an armchair. “Why have you been ignoring me? Ever since I came back you’ve behaved like I was a leper. What did I do to deserve such treatment? I haven’t dared speak to you.”
“You went away.” It was true but it sounded like something Nell would say. I made another attempt. “You’re older than me, you