Free The Edge of the Fall by Kate Williams Page B

doing now. What was there to do? Maybe they were dreaming of their fiancés, stuck at home too.
    She picked up her pen and began writing to Hilde. It is some time since I last wrote , she started, then stopped. How was that an explanation? I can’t write, she wanted to say, I don’t want to write to anybody.
    She tried again. And then again, once again, until she had a full sentence. Things have changed. I wish I could come to see you. Papa said I might. Is there anything you’d like from England?
    She thought of Tom, couldn’t help her mind reeling back. Don’t write to him again, she said to herself. Don’t! The house creaked around her, floorboards shaking. Surely it was noisier than normal? She put it down to her guilty heart.
    Celia couldn’t sleep at first and then woke repeatedly all night, jolted out of sleep as if there had been a loud noise – but the house was silent.
    She woke to shouts. The light was bright through the curtains. She buried her head in the pillow, but the noises were too loud. She pulled on her shawl, poked her head out. Arthur was shouting something. She heard Verena’s voice begging him to stop. She ran down the stairs, hearing the voices rise.
    They were all at the front door. She hurried forward. ‘What’s going on?’ she shouted. No one turned. Someone was crying. The sun was already bright, flaming out. She pushed between Rudolf and Verena. Arthur and Louisa were arm in arm, standing on the driveway. Louisa was wearing her best white gown, her hat awry, huddling her shawl around her.
    Arthur looked as if he’d thrown on his clothes.
    â€˜I’m going then!’ he said. ‘We’re going now. You can come and visit us if you like.’
    â€˜Where are they going?’ said Celia, knowing he might chastise her, shout back. ‘Where are you going?’ Smithson was sitting on a cart full of boxes. Were those Louisa’s things ? Was that what the noises were last night, them packing up the clothes in boxes?
    Arthur looked at her. ‘We’re going to London.’
    Verena coughed, almost a sob.
    Celia stepped forward. ‘What do you mean, you’re going to London?’
    â€˜Louisa’s always wanted to go to London. So we are.’
    â€˜I have,’ Louisa said, so quietly you could barely hear.
    The marble was cool on Celia’s feet as she moved on to the driveway. ‘Well, then, I’ll come too.’
    Arthur shook his head. ‘You won’t. We’re leaving now. We’ve waited long enough.’
    Verena started to cry. Celia put out her hand, reached for Louisa. Her cousin edged back. ‘Stay. Please.’
    Arthur seized her arm. ‘We’re going. Don’t take on so, Mother. We’ll come back.’ He was moving towards the cart now, laden with boxes. ‘Louisa’s young. She needs to see the world, live a little. Not stay cooped up here until she’s carted off to some dreary finishing school.’
    â€˜Where will you stay? What about your reputation? You’re far too young to go to London! Please, dear, it’s not safe there. Stay here, we can make visits there if you like. Go with Celia to the finishing school,’ pleaded Verena. She held out her hand. ‘Come inside. Let’s discuss it. We can think of a way.’
    Louisa drew back.
    â€˜Please don’t worry, Aunt. Arthur knows a respectable family with two daughters. I will stay with them,’ she said. ‘I’ll bring presents when I come back. I promise.’ Her lip was quivering. She was wavering now, Celia thought, on the brink of changing her mind, if they prompted her hard enough.
    â€˜Don’t go,’ said Celia. ‘Come with me instead, to the school that Papa was talking about.’
    Arthur reached for Louisa’s hand. ‘I’m looking after her. She’s safe with me. It’s time for her to go out and meet people. You all did.’