Free The Beloved by Alison Rattle Page B

me.’
    â€˜But  … ’ I quickly glance back to the window.
Does she not know he has returned?
A smile slides across my face. Now it is my turn to be triumphant. Before she can stop me, I push past Mama and rush out of the door. I hear her gasp as she stumbles against the door frame, but by then I am at the top of the stairs and I am flying down, taking two steps at a time and calling out ‘Papa! Papa!’ As I turn the last curve of the staircase, there he is, standing in the hall, pulling his gloves off, finger by finger.
    â€˜Alice?’ Papa has no time to brace himself, before I fling myself at him and wrap my arms tight around his waist.
    â€˜What a greeting! But do let me take my coat off first.’ The reassuring tone of his voice soothes me like a cooling ointment on a cut. I cling to the firm comfort of him and for a moment I am lost for words.
    â€˜Arthur! You are home unexpectedly. You should have sent word and I would have had the servants prepare for your arrival.’
    I turn my head and there is Mama gliding down the staircase towards us. She has her eyes fixed upon me. ‘Papa, Papa,’ I whisper urgently into his shoulder. ‘She wants to send me away. She wants to send me to the madhouse. Please don’t let her. Please!’
    Papa pulls my arms from around his waist and studies my face. His brow wrinkles in concern. ‘Calm down, Alice. Why are you so excitable? What do you mean you are being sent away? Temperance, what is the child talking about?’
    Mama is beside me now; the cloying scent of her lavender hangs between us. She takes my wrist and squeezes it tight. ‘Alice needs to go back to her room,’ she says. She tries to tug me away. ‘Come on, Alice. I have to talk to your father.’
    â€˜No!’ I slap her hand from me and grab Papa’s arm. ‘Please, Papa. Don’t listen to her. She wants me in the madhouse.’ Papa looks at me, his eyes wide and puzzled. Then he looks back at Mama.
    â€˜Take her to her room, Arthur. You can see she is hysterical. Please take her now, and then I will explain everything to you.’
    â€˜Yes  …  yes,’ murmurs Papa. ‘I think that is a good idea.’ He puts his arm around my shoulders and takes one of my hands gently in his. ‘Come on, my darling girl,’ he says. ‘Let’s get you upstairs and comfortable, then we will see what the problem is.’
    â€˜I told you!’ I hiss. ‘She wants rid of me.’
    He presses his hand into my back and I lean into him, suddenly exhausted, as he leads me up the staircase and back into my room. ‘Now,’ Papa says as he settles me on the bed. ‘I will have some tea sent up to you, and you will stay here and calm yourself, while I go downstairs to talk to Mama.’
    â€˜Don’t leave me, Papa.’
    Now he is here, I cannot bear for him to go. I hold tight to his hand. Panic grips at my heart and sets it racing. ‘She will tell you things that are not true. She hates me, Papa, she hates me!’
    â€˜Oh, Alice,’ Papa kisses me gently on the top of my head. ‘You know that is not true.’ He sighs deeply. ‘Let me go now.’ He eases his hand away from mine. ‘And please don’t worry yourself. I will sort out this problem, whatever it is.’
    â€˜Promise me, Papa?’
    â€˜I promise,’ he says. He smiles at me, and because he looks so sincere and because of the way his eyes crease so kindly around the edges, my heart steadies and I allow myself to believe him.

Eleven
    Arthur Angel listened patiently as his wife recounted the events of the last two days. He watched as her white, tapered hands gestured and pressed to her breast. He gazed at the green of her eyes as they flashed hard then grew soft with tears. He was always amazed that, whenever he came back to her after being away for any length of time, her beauty had the power to