The Gilded Cage - Taking my Place

Promises

"Hermione...don't get so obsessed with all this nonsense...Papa and Grandpa will get to the bottom of things and there is no need for you to worry about it, darling?" Helen said firmly as we watched the girls, and poor little Henry, disappearing into their paddocks at Deepdene. It was the first day of the winter term and as we now had ten nurslings to prepare and deliver on time, we had accompanied Miss Ford on the drop-off. Henry, in a kilt with his uniform, looked crushed as one of the teaching assistants checked his diaper at the gate. But I thought that he would be fine, when he realised that all of his new classmates were the same. He just needed to get over the shock of having his life turned upside down.

"I'm not, Mama...I promise...but if we are right, we might be able to help Bella...and Mrs Radcliffe...and maybe even Camilla, Mama?" I pointed out, perhaps a little more passionately than I should have, which was what was worrying Mama, of course. "I am not getting upset, I promise, Mama?"

"I think you might be getting your hopes up, darling...and if they are all dashed, you will be upset, I am sure?" She cautioned as she took my arm, whilst we watched the girls saying hello to their friends. My sisters were not embarrassed by anything anymore. They were all happy little girls, happy nurslings, used to life in Meadvale. "I agree that something suspicious may have taken place, but as Malcolm said last night, Mr Ellesmere has donated the cost of these buildings to the church and more. Sharp business practises might be frowned upon by some people, if they ever come to light, but he is a great benefactor in this community...an important man...it will take a lot for the community to turn on him in any meaningful way...and it will not be for turning a large profit on the Charlesfield deal, darling?"

"I can see how that might work, Mama...I can see how people might think...but if someone at Bridgewater Homes instigated the contact between this Michael boy and Nicola, they did it to provoke a scandal...and ultimately that scandal convinced the church to close Charlesfield and then merge the school with Deepdene...and that would be a despicable thing to do? Nicola and her friends were severely punished for something they were groomed to do? I would bet that Mr Ellesmere was one of the loudest voices suggesting that Charlesfield should close and all efforts be concentrated on Deepdene and that made Mr Ellesmere, Dad and Bridgewater Homes a lot of money at the expense of innocent children!" I insisted, as we walked along the high fence, heading home, via the park café, I hoped. Miss Ford was going shopping with some of the other nannies, and we were leaving the pushchairs in the covered store for later. "And then my father involved me in their plans to...I know Mrs Radcliffe was the one who actually encouraged me into the church...along with you and Papa, but my parents were all for it right from the start, weren't they?"

"Yes...they were...I mean, Sheila and Edwina talked to them more than me at first, although we did speak to Barry when we first employed you as a nanny...but they were all for you living here, and all for you joining the church?" Mama admitted, almost reluctantly, because she did not want me to dwell on it all, I think. But my comments had clearly given her some food for thought.

"Mama...my father had no interest in religion before they suddenly started attending their local Reformist church up in Cambridge...Mummy and I used to go at Christmas, but he never wanted to go with us...and all of a sudden, he is not only happy for me to join, but soon follows me here? Does that really sound plausible?"

"God moves in mysterious ways, Hermione...but...I see your point...do just try not to upset yourself by thinking about it all the time, dear...please?" She urged, before suggesting a coffee before we returned home to our morning devotions, as I had hoped she would. It was a busy day for the café, as many mothers and nannies had the same idea, and being a frosty January morning, almost everyone wanted to sit inside. But we found a table, and were soon enjoying our cappuccinos, until my mother appeared, with Sheila Radcliffe on her arm, inevitably under discipline. And as there were no free tables left, Mama waved and invited them over, cautioning me to be sensible. It was the polite thing to do, but not really what anyone wanted, I think, if I was reading their expressions correctly. Poor Sheila did not look very happy.