Kate's Story, 1914 Read online

  The train’s brakes squealed as it slowed to a stop. I was about to dash over to the tracks when Mother caught my arm. “We’ll wait here, Kate,” she said. “Hank will find them.”

  As if on cue, Hank stepped forward with a small sign reading ETHERIDGE in neatly printed letters. He walked past us and stood at the very edge of the platform. I stared eagerly at every person who climbed off the train, searching for a face that might belong to Beth. Would I recognize her the moment she stepped off the train? Would she look like me . . . or like a stranger?

  “Here, sir! Over here!” a high-pitched voice called out. The young woman’s strong Irish accent caught my attention—and Hank’s—right away. As she started to take a tentative step down the stairs toward the platform, Hank reached out his hand to steady her. Before she exited the train, the woman turned to face someone behind her, someone who was still hidden in the shadows. But I knew right away who it was, and I couldn’t wait any longer.

  I broke away from my parents and ran to the edge of the platform as Hank helped Shannon and Beth out of the train. “Beth! Beth!” I shrieked. “It’s me! It’s Kate!”

  “Cousin Kate!” she cried. Then we were a jumble, jumping and hugging and laughing, even crying.

  “How was the train? Did you like New York? Did you stay in my room? I hope it was cool enough; the city gets so miserably hot in the summer. Did you enjoy the voyage? I’ve never been on a steamer before. Was it a smooth crossing, or did you pass through rough waters?”

  As I paused to take a deep breath, Beth burst out laughing. After a moment, Hank and Shannon joined in, and so did I.

  “Bumpy, yes, yes, certainly, yes, smooth enough!” Beth replied, all in a rush, and everyone laughed again. She reached out and squeezed my hand. “Oh, Kate! I can’t believe I’m here!”

  “I can’t believe it, either,” I replied. “We have so much planned, Beth. I think you’re going to have the best time—”

  “Kate!” Mother’s voice carried across the platform. “Kate!”

  I’d almost forgotten that my parents were waiting for us. “Come on. Mother and Father are dying to meet you too,” I said as I brought Beth over to them. Mother’s smile held the warmth of a hundred suns as she pulled Beth into an embrace.

  “Welcome, Beth! We’re so glad that you could visit!” she said. “How are you, my dear?”

  “Very well, thank you, Mrs. Vandermeer,” Beth said with a formal curtsy.

  “Now, I suppose we’re actually cousins, but you must call us aunt and uncle,” Father said as he shook Beth’s hand. “We’ll have none of these formalities between family.”

  Beth smiled warmly and pulled Shannon forward. “And this is Shannon, my lady’s maid,” she said.

  “Very good to meet you, Shannon,” Mother said graciously. “Kate’s maid, Nellie, is at the house. She’ll take good care of you.”

  Father turned to Hank. “See about the luggage, will you, Hank?”

  Hank touched the brim of his cap. “Certainly, sir,” he replied.

  “I’ll come too,” Shannon offered. “It will be faster to find Beth’s trunk that way.”

  “We’ll go straight home so that you and Shannon can rest from your journey,” Mother promised Beth. “I’m sure you’re longing for a hot bath.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Eleanor,” Beth replied. “But I must confess that we were pampered in New York last night. Shannon and I feel quite refreshed after our week of travel.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that,” Mother said.

  Hank and Shannon soon returned, followed by three porters wheeling the heavy trunk that Beth had brought with her.

  While the porters strapped the trunk on top of the car, Hank held the door open for us. After Mother, Father, Beth, and I were settled, I noticed Shannon was hanging back, looking uncertain. Hank noticed too.

  “Plenty of room in the front with me, if you don’t mind, miss,” he said to her.

  A shy smile spread across Shannon’s fair face. “I surely appreciate it,” she replied.

  “I was wondering if you heard any news about the assassination during your voyage,” Hank started to say. Then he closed the door, and I couldn’t hear any more of their conversation through the divider that separated the front of the car from our cozy cabin in the back.

  As Hank pulled into the street, Beth craned her neck to look past me out the window.

  “Here,” I said as I leaned forward. “You can see Providence better without me in the way.”

  “Oh, no, I wasn’t looking at the city,” she replied. “I was looking at us—our reflection in the glass.”

  I turned toward the window and realized that Beth was right; the window of the car was almost like a mirror. At first glance, a stranger on the street might not have guessed that Beth and I were related—after all, we were only third cousins. Beth had the most beautiful wavy hair, the color of an autumn bonfire. My hair was long, too—but dark brown and straight as sticks. Beth’s creamy skin didn’t have a single spot on it, whereas I had freckles enough for both of us.

  But the longer I looked at our faces in the window, the more similarities I saw. We both had big eyes framed by long lashes and, best of all, identical smiles.

  “You look so familiar,” I blurted out. “I know it’s not possible, but I almost feel like I’ve seen you before.”

  “I feel the same way,” Beth confessed. “I suppose it’s because I have imagined us doing things together for so long. And then, of course, I think about you every time I see your great-grandmother’s portrait at Chatswood. Do you have any portraits of my great-grandmother in your house?”

  I shook my head. “No, and leaving them all behind at Chatswood is one of Great-Grandmother Katherine’s regrets,” I said.

  “We don’t really look like them. Our great-grandmothers both had blond hair—not ginger or brown,” Beth said as she twirled a wavy lock around her finger. “But you did a splendid job describing yourself in your letters, Kate. You look exactly as I imagined you would.”

  Nellie’s going to love Beth’s accent, I thought. Then I noticed a flash of gold glittering against Beth’s neck. I sucked in my breath. “Oh, Beth, that’s it, isn’t it? The Elizabeth necklace?”

  Beth nodded, grinning as she pulled the Elizabeth necklace out of her dress. “I tuck it under my collar whenever we travel,” she explained. “Just to be on the safe side. Want to see?”

  “Of course I do!” I cried.

  Beth unclasped the necklace and handed it to me. I was surprised by its weight; though the Elizabeth necklace looked like a delicate piece of jewelry, in my hand it felt heavy. Solid. It was a perfect match to the Katherine necklace that Aunt Katie always wore: the other half of the same heart, the same burnished gold. The only difference was the gems, and oh, what a difference it was. Instead of the Katherine necklace’s fiery rubies, ocean-blue sapphires shimmered against the Elizabeth necklace’s gleaming gold.

  “It’s beautiful, Beth,” I said, quickly passing it back to her. As much as I enjoyed admiring her Elizabeth necklace, it didn’t seem right for it to be off her neck for even a second. “Absolutely beautiful. You must love it so much.”

  “I do. I truly do,” she replied as she put the necklace back on. “You know, I’ve had it for less than a month, but I already feel like it’s a part of me. I’m sure you’ll feel the same way when the Katherine necklace becomes yours. Just two more days!”

  “Don’t I know it!” I laughed.

  “Don’t we all,” Father teased as he glanced up from his newspaper. “I’m not sure what will occupy Kate’s time once the countdown to her twelfth birthday is finally over.”

  “Me, I hope!” Beth said, giggling. “Do you know when you’ll receive the Katherine necklace? I was lucky; Mother gave it to me in the parlor, right after breakfast, so I didn’t have to wait all day.”

  “That won’t be the case for me, I’m afraid,” I replied, glancing sideways at Mother. “They’re not going to present it until m
y birthday party.”

  Mother smiled wryly. “Oh, Kate, it’s not my rule. You know how much your great-grandmother lives for tradition. And ever since she gave the necklace to your great-aunt Kathy at her twelfth birthday party, the tradition was set. Besides, you’ve waited all these years; I’m sure a few extra hours won’t cause any harm.”

  “If you say so,” I said, sighing as though I were deeply inconvenienced. Beth gave me a sympathetic smile that told me she understood.

  Then Hank pulled into the long, circular drive in front of Vandermeer Manor.

  “Here we are,” Father said.

  Beth gasped. “Already?” she asked in surprise, leaning forward to peer out the window again. All the family and staff members were assembled in front of the house, awaiting her arrival. Hank parked the car and hurried around to open our door. I stepped out first, and Beth followed me. At first, no one said anything; the only sound was the trickle of water streaming through the great fountain in the middle of the drive and, faintly, the call of the ocean.

  And then, to my surprise, Great-Grandmother Katherine came forward, stepping out from behind Aunt Katie and Great-Aunt Kathy. Beside me, Beth gasped. As did I. I couldn’t remember Great-Grandmother Katherine ever waiting outside to meet a visitor. Normally, she received our guests in the parlor.

  Great-Grandmother Katherine moved toward Beth. “Elizabeth,” she said slowly. “Beth. Great-granddaughter of my lost sister, standing on my steps, looking at me with her eyes.”

  Beth fell into a low curtsy, but my great-grandmother would have none of that. In a fast motion—faster than I’d ever seen her move before—she swooped down and gave Beth a great big hug. As Great-Grandmother Katherine held her, tears sparkled on Beth’s long lashes.

  “Happy tears, I hope,” my great-grandmother said as she brushed them away. “Because this is a very happy day for me, dear Beth.”

  “All my life, I’ve wished that I could’ve met her,” Beth whispered.

  “Of course, my dear girl. One of the many wrongs I’ve witnessed in this world is that Elizabeth left it before you arrived,” Great-Grandmother Katherine said. “Look at you, child. Look at you. I feel as though you’ve unraveled all the long years of my life. Now I’m twelve again, too, with nothing to do but roam the meadows with my sister, looking for little adventures in the English countryside.”

  Great-Grandmother Katherine swept Beth’s hair away from her face, leaned forward, and gently kissed her forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.

  “So am I,” Beth murmured back.

  And so am I, I thought.

  After Beth met the rest of the family, I led her inside Vandermeer Manor. “Mother’s had the staff prepare the blue guest room for you,” I told her. “But if you’d like, you’re welcome to stay with me in my room.”

  “Yes, please!” Beth said at once. “I know two months seems like a long time, but it’s only eight short weeks. I don’t want to spend any time apart, if we can help it.”

  “I completely agree,” I replied. “And I told Mother as much, too, but she said the proper thing to do would be to give you your own room—even though my room is certainly big enough for both of us. Here it is.”

  I swung open the door to my bedroom.

  “Kate, it’s beautiful!” Beth exclaimed.

  I smiled. It was a very pretty room, especially on a bright summer day when the sunlight streamed through the open windows. The cream-colored canopy on my bed fluttered from the fresh breeze, and the green walls glimmered with thin gold stripes. The plush carpet under our feet was soft as velvet.

  “I hope you’ll be comfortable here. If there’s anything you need—anything at all—just say the word. I know my lady’s maid, Nellie, will be more than happy to help you. In fact, she’ll never forgive me if I don’t ring for her right away. . . . She’s been just as eager to spend time with you as the rest of us!”

  “No, no, you mustn’t bother her on my account,” Beth replied. “I’d hate to disturb Nellie when we have no real need of her.”

  “But it wouldn’t be—” I started to say, but my voice trailed off. I didn’t want to disagree with my cousin so soon after we’d met. And maybe they do things differently in England, I thought.

  I decided to change the subject. “I got your letter—the one you sent before you set sail,” I said. “You’ve got to tell me, what was the special item you said you’d bring?”

  “Oh! Of course,” she cried. “I nearly forgot. It’s in my valise. Come. We must find it right away.”

  “The footmen probably brought it to your room,” I told her. “It’s right down the hall.”

  Beth followed me to the blue room, where we found Nellie and Shannon unpacking Beth’s trunk. Even though they wore different uniforms, I was struck by how much Nellie and Shannon looked like each other as they unfolded and refolded Beth’s clothes. And the way they spoke—in hushed voices, punctuated by giggles—immediately caught my attention.

  “Nellie,” I said. “Look who I’ve brought!”

  “Lady Beth!” Nellie scrambled to her feet. “I’m at your service, milady. Should you need anything—anything at all—”

  Beth smiled at her. “That’s very kind; thank you. And thank you for taking Shannon under your wing as well.” Then Beth turned to her lady’s maid. “What were you two talking about?”

  Nellie and Shannon exchanged a glance. The silence before Shannon answered seemed too long.

  “Lady Beth, Nellie tells me that Vandermeer Manor is haunted,” Shannon said at last.

  “Really!” Beth exclaimed. “Do tell!”

  Shannon shivered, despite the warmth of the day. “I daren’t,” she replied with wide eyes. “Haunts don’t like to be the subject of gossip. And I’d rather not make an enemy of Vandermeer Manor’s otherworldly inhabitants.”

  Beth turned to me. “You’re not so superstitious, are you, Kate?” she asked. “I should like to hear all about it.”

  “Well . . . ,” I began. The memory of the specter I’d seen that morning was fresh in my mind. “It’s just . . . stories, really. The housemaids . . . like to tell stories. To occupy themselves while they clean. But I’ve—”

  My throat felt tight. I had to swallow hard before I could continue.

  “I’ve never seen anything out of the ordinary,” I finished lamely.

  “Oh,” Beth said. She sounded a little disappointed. “Yes, that’s just how it is at Chatswood. The housemaids are always going on about this portrait tilting or that door closing, all performed by unseen hands. But the house seems ever so ordinary to me.”

  “And a good thing, too,” Shannon added fervently.

  I looked up and realized that Nellie was watching me closely. “Anything you need, Miss Kate?” she asked in a low voice.

  I smiled at her; Nellie knew me so well. She must have seen how troubled I was by the talk of ghosts. “I’m fine, Nellie; thank you,” I replied.

  “Shannon,” Beth said. “Have you seen my valise?”

  “Over here, milady.”

  Beth unfastened the leather strap holding it closed and removed a battered-looking book. Her eyes twinkled as she held it up for me to see.

  “What is that?” I asked curiously.

  Beth smiled in a secretive way. “Shannon,” she said, “when you’re finished here, would you please draw me a hot bath? I’d like to wash up before dinner.”

  “Of course, milady,” Shannon replied. “Would you like to wash your hair as well?”

  Beth shook her head. “Gracious, no,” she said. “My waves are wild enough today. If I wash them, they’ll spring out in every direction!”

  “Nellie might be able to help with that,” I spoke up.

  My lady’s maid blushed as everyone turned to her.

  “My own hair is rather curly,” Nellie explained. “So I’ve concocted a pomade that smooths curls.”

  “I’d love to try it,” Beth said. “Thank you, Nellie.” Then she turned to me. “
Kate, I’d like to take a look at your stamp collection.”

  I understood what Beth meant. “Certainly. It’s in my room,” I told her. “Let’s go.”

  Beth and I ran down the hall, giggling. Back in my room, she placed the book on my bed.

  “I really would like to see your stamp collection,” Beth said. “But first, this is the surprise I wrote about in my letter.”

  I reached for the book. It was very old, held closed with a string of twine wrapped around its cracked leather covers. Tiny slips of paper peeking out of its pages served as bookmarks. “What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s a journal,” Beth explained as she opened it and gently turned the pages, which were yellow with age. “Some sixty years old. It belonged to a woman named Essie Bridges . . . who was Elizabeth and Katherine’s lady’s maid when they were girls.”

  “Really?” I gasped.

  “Yes, I’m sure of it,” Beth replied. “She uses code names for them—most likely, Essie was scared that she’d be caught keeping a journal—but there’s never been another set of twins at Chatswood. It’s just got to be them! Here, read this.”

  The twins only look more alike with every passing day. I saw them at their ritual today, and with both of them wearing the same yellow dress with their hair in plaits, I could tell them apart only by their necklaces. It’s the sweetest moment of my day, by far—first Sparrow holds up her necklace and says, with all solemnity, “I am Sparrow, and I love my sister, Lark.” Next comes Lark’s turn, and she holds up her necklace and says, “I am Lark, and I love my sister, Sparrow.” Then together, they whisper, “Forever,” and join their necklaces as one. It gives them a bit of comfort. They’ve been so brave, but I know they miss their mother very much.