"Goodness me...is it really you?" A lady of a certain age in a tweed overcoat exclaimed, as she stepped into the first-class carriage of the almost-ready-to-depart train, and looked straight at me in obvious surprise. She could hardly miss me, to be fair, because I was strapped into a big single pushchair, right next to the door, with Mrs Blackstone and her voluminous dark red gown occupying the pair of seats beside me. I frowned up at her, sucking on my pacifier, and dimly remembered her smiling face. It was the lady I had talked to on another train just a few months before, when I was returning from Charlesfield with Nicola and Bella, the lady who had been so very interested in the church and the idea of nurslings. I could not remember her name, I did not think I had asked, but I remembered her granddaughter, and was rather glad that the lady was travelling alone that time.
"Excuse me, madam...do you know Hermione?" Sheila demanded just a little curtly, plainly rather taken aback by the interruption, and not appreciating a complete stranger taking such an interest in her charge. The lady looked a little confused.
"Yes...well, no...I am not really quite sure...but I did meet a young lady...a very nice young nanny with her young charges...who was the absolute spitting image of this little dear...on the southbound train last October...but I am clearly mistaken...I do apologise...a younger sister perhaps or just a lookalike?" The lady said as she took the empty double seat on the other side of the aisle. "My eyes are not as sharp as they once were!"
"Oh, I see...in that case, you are not actually mistaken...Hermione has undergone something of a transformation in the preceding six months," Sheila relaxed, as she realised why the lady had recognised me, and then spent the next ten minutes explaining what had happened since I spent an hour discussing Reformism with the lady, who introduced herself to Mrs Blackstone as Mrs Beresford during their conversation. Mrs Blackstone told her everything, much to my chagrin, and I soon closed my eyes, just to spare my blushes. As it happened, I was on my way back to Charlesfield for the weekend, in the company of Mrs Sheila Blackstone, who had been in Meadvale for meetings about the proposed merger of Charlesfield and Deepdene. I had just broken up for the spring half-term, that very afternoon, which was why I was still resplendent in my Deepdene uniform, and Sheila had volunteered to take me up with her, from where my doting parents could collect me for a few family days with them over the holidays. I had spent a miserable six weeks at Deepdene, and I certainly needed a rest, but I was not really looking forward to the trip, in all honesty, and meeting Mrs Beresford was not exactly an improvement as far as I could see.
"Quite remarkable." Mrs Beresford said, when she was finally right up to date. She stared at me as if she could see right into my soul.
"She is, isn't she?" Sheila chuckled, reaching forwards to fuss over me a little. She had no need to check my diaper, because she had messed and changed me at the London station, just minutes before, but of course, she checked it anyway. "Converts into our First Congregation are rare, but Hermione is something of a special case...almost unique, I would argue...and to make the best of herself and reach her full potential, she needed to be stripped back and rebuilt as a Christian girl...it is hard, at times, but she has really settled to it now...and we are really pleased with her...she is coming along in leaps and bounds."
"And you are the headmistress of Charlesfield...have I got that right? Hermione here told me all about the situation there when we met?" Mrs Beresford asked as I closed my eyes again and tried to tune out, not enjoying being the centre of attention at all. I had not enjoyed hearing Mrs Blackstone telling Mrs Beresford all about my abrupt fall from grace, or the many tales of my half-term at Deepdene. But it had all happened, of course. I could not hide from the shame of it, no matter how hard I tried. I carried that shame with me all the time, like a shining badge of dishonour.
YOU ARE READING
The Gilded Cage - Accepting My Place
General FictionHermione Scott has found her family and the place where she wants to live, in The Gilded Cage Part One, Finding My Place. But having decided to join the Christian Community of Meadvale, she has to change, to become someone else. She is OCD, and want...
