Free Far Above Rubies by Anne-Marie Vukelic

Unfinished mending on the chair, a litter of letters upon the dressing table, hairpins, hatpins, powders, perfume bottles.
    ‘Goodness, Kate, ’tis a wonder that you can find the little one amongst all of this lot. My brother always did like orderliness, you know, it quiets his mind.’
    I finally found my voice. ‘Fanny, please! You are speaking out of turn.’
    ‘Well, somebody has to say it and it might as well be me. You should have a tighter rein on matters, Kate, Charles cannot see to the home as well as earning a living, you know. Your sister would have never allowed the house to fall into such disarray.’
    I felt my body tense with resentment. In life my sister had outshone me: in death she eclipsed me still.
     
    The following month Charles and I celebrated our second wedding anniversary and I felt well enough to travel toRichmond for a few days. We planned to stay at the Star and Garter and as our carriage took a track through the Petersham meadows, our accommodation came into view. I marvelled at the exterior which looked just like the home of a nobleman. Charles told me that the inn was built on a site which dated back to Charles I.
    While our bags were unloaded, Charles nodded at the upstairs window and said, with a twinkle in his eye, ‘Did you know, Kate, that the wife of the former owner is said to haunt the corridors at night? Her husband was reputed to have been a foolish man who made costly additions to the property and died in prison without a penny to his name.’
    ‘Stop it, Charles.’ I giggled nervously. ‘How do you expect me to sleep if you tell me such things?’
    A few days later we were joined by Charles’s friend, Forster, who excitedly told us that the first edition of Charles’s latest work, Nicholas Nickleby , had sold 50,000 copies.
    ‘No need to hide yourself away here, Dickens! It’s good news all round.’
    Charles was developing the habit of avoiding reviews for fear that they may dispirit him, but Forster waved a copy of the morning paper under his nose and insisted, ‘Read that, dear fellow. The editor, Lord Jeffrey, has nothing but praise for you.’
    He also pulled from his pocket a crumpled note which he handed to Charles with a grin. ‘And this is from one of your younger admirers.’
    Charles looked puzzled and opened up the note and began to read. A few moments later his face broke out into a smile, followed by a laugh which grew louder and louder until the tears rolled down his cheeks.
    Forster joined in, ‘It’s priceless, isn’t it, my friend?’
    It appeared that a little boy had written stating his views as to the rewards and punishments that should me meted out upon the various characters in Charles’s story.
    ‘What a capital little fellow he must be, I will reply immediately. Lord Jeffrey will have to wait!’
    It was wonderful to witness that my husband, in spite of his growing fame, should choose to acknowledge the words of a young child above that of a well-known literary critic.
     
    In June our new sovereign Queen Victoria was crowned. The monarchy had fallen out of favour in recent years but almost everyone was won over by the tiny princess who would become our new Queen. Crowds flocked to London for the coronation and it was estimated that there were half a million strangers in London and a room could not be found for love nor money. Charles was excited to attend.
    ‘Come with me, Kate, why don’t you?’
    But I was not inclined to be jostled by crowds of well-wishers and said that I would prefer instead the quietness of my own home. A look of disappointment fell across Charles’s face and for a moment I felt guilty as he closed the door to leave. But the peace that I had imagined did not come at all, instead being intermittently broken by the firing of distant cannon, incessant ringing of bells and a twenty-one gun salute. Day turned into night and the celebratory fireworks punctuated the darkness of the City.
    When Charles returned he told me