Olivia Twist ~ The True Story ~ 5 By Susan Brown In which I wake up in a strange place ~ meet an old lady and another ~ realise that my secret is revealed ~ find myself involved in a puzzling development

Floating gently toward wakefulness, I sensed that I was lying on a hard wooden floor. Feeling hot and cold all at once, I kept falling asleep and jerking awake as shouts and the noise of people milling around reached me. Then I could feel myself being lifted though my eyes were so heavy that I did not have the strength to open them.

I felt that I was being carried in strong arms, which seemed oddly comforting. It was a strange sensation of not quite being aware of what was happening to me and having little control over my body as I floated somewhere between asleep and awake.

Eventually, the sounds went away as I drifted deeper into senselessness.

I dreamt that I was at home with my Mama. She was playing with me on the rug. I could see her laughing face and how she looked upon me with such pride and joy. The love that I felt for her could not be any stronger.

Mama was helping me dress my doll in a lovely little silk dress. She was smiling and talking to me but I could not hear what she was saying. Then in the space of a few heartbeats she turned to mist in front of me, gradually fading into nothingness. I screamed and my eyes opened suddenly.

Looking over me was a lady, she had a cloth in her hand and she gently wiped my brow.

‘There, there, my dear, you are safe now.’

‘W…where am I?’ I said, my voice sounding weak.

‘You are in the home of Mr Brownlow.’

My heart was thumping in my breast as I remembered that as being the name of the gentleman who had been robbed.

‘Am I to go to prison?’

‘Lord bless you, child, no. That fool of a magistrate let you go and you fainted in the dock. Then you were brought here and have been senseless for nigh on two weeks. We worried for you and you nearly slipped away once or twice, but the fever broke and you have been sleeping peacefully for several hours now.’

‘Am I to be sent back to Fagin?’

‘I don’t know of any Fagin. Is he a relative of yours that needs contacting?’

‘No, Ma’am, he wanted me to be a thief and I feared for my life.’

With that blurted admission, I had a coughing fit that made me feel very weak. Before I knew it, I had once again fallen asleep.

When next I awoke I felt much better and my head was somewhat clearer. I opened my eyes and I could see that it was evening. Lifting my head from the soft pillow, I could see the lady sitting by a log fire, crocheting or knitting. She was concentrating on what she was doing and was not yet aware that I was awake.

I studied her for a few moments as she sat there. She was quite old with grey hair under her cap. She was wearing a brown dress and I could see her boots peeking from beneath the hem. She had a kindly face and I could see that she was smiling slightly.

My eyes travelled about the room. It was a fine room, cheerful with wallpaper covered with roses. The furniture was the finest that I had ever seen and it was obvious, even to me that all this indicated that Mr Brownlow was a man of some substance.

Looking down at myself, I could see that I was wearing some sort of nightgown; it was of a fine white material with a profusion of lace. I also appeared to have some sort of night cap, as I could feel something tied under my chin. The bed that I lay upon was the softest that I had ever felt in my short life. I was warm and relaxed and I felt myself drift off again…

Something troubled my thoughts, but… my eyes snapped open and I gasped.

In a moment the lady was by my side.

‘How are you, my dear?’

‘B-b-better, Ma’am.’

‘That is good, but why do you look so frightened. You are safe here and no harm will come to you.’

I did not know how to answer her. I had realised with some fear that she and everyone must now be aware of my deception. I was a boy and I had masqueraded as a girl. The fact that I felt like one and to some extent looked like one did not mean that I was one. I well knew that God and man took a dim view of such things.

I looked at her, tears in my eyes. She looked so kind and concerned about me. Perhaps if I explained, she might understand.

‘Ma’am, I–I–I am not as I seem.’

‘I’m sorry, my dear, but what do you mean?’

‘When I came to this place, was I undressed?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘And did you undress me?’

‘Yes, just me, as I would not let the parlour maid help.’

‘Did…er…did you see my private parts?’

She looked at me and then sat on the bed, holding my hand she replied, ‘yes, I did. I was a bit puzzled that outwardly, you were dressed as a girl, but your private parts, as you call them, are somewhat unusual.’

‘Unusual?’

‘Yes, I was a nurse as a young girl and I got to see a goodly number of erm…private parts and I have never seen them quite like yours. However do not concern yourself about that.’

She seemed flustered and I was a little confused at what she was saying but felt the need to unburden my secret.

‘May I explain myself?’

‘If it would make you feel better. But there’s no need to do so.’

I told her my story, how I was in the poorhouse and then sent to Mr Sowerbury’s. My abuse at the hands of Noah, my decision to continue wearing the clothes of a girl and then my journey to London and being in the hands of Fagin.

‘Oh, you poor child, how you must have suffered. So you wore girls’ clothes as a disguise and nothing else?’

This is where I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

‘No, Ma’am, it may have started as such, but as soon as I put on the funeral dress, I felt good about myself. Seeing my reflection in a looking glass, I could see that somehow I was dressed as I should be–as a girl. I know it is strange and God will probably disown me, because I see myself as a girl and not a boy. It was easy for me to keep up the pretence as I was more comfortable being considered a girl than I ever felt as a boy.’

‘Well, Olivia, that is your name, isn’t it? I assume that it is so, as you kept mumbling in your fever that your name was Olivia.’

I nodded my head, unable to speak and weakened by my confession.

‘Very well, Olivia. There is a doctor that is to come visit you when you feel better; he will explain things to you regarding your private parts but it is not something that you should worry about. In the mean time, I am sure that I can persuade Mr Brownlow to keep your secret and be mindful to treat you as a girl.’

‘Thank you, Ma’am, you are so kind!’

‘Think nothing of it, child. Now, I will go and speak with Mr Brownlow and I suggest that you get some more rest as you still look very tired. I will bring you up some soup later but if you need anything meantimes, just pull the cord by the side of your bed.’

With that she left me to my thoughts.

I smiled to myself as I lay there. It was nice to be treated like a girl. I was a little bit concerned about what the doctor might say, but considering what I had been through, I thought that it could not be that bad.

I must have slept, as the next thing I realised was that I could hear the door opening and I could see the lady coming in with a tray. She put it down on a table and then came over to me.

‘Are you feeling stronger, Olivia?’

‘Yes, Ma’am, a bit.’

‘Good; now let me help you sit up so you can have some soup.’

She assisted me to get comfortable and then she put the tray on my lap.

‘Eat while it is hot, dear.’

I thanked her and she went over to the chair by the fire and sat down.

The soup was hot and full of vegetables. I had not realised how hungry I was. Soon I had finished and the bowl was empty.

‘Finished?’ said the lady standing up and coming over to the bed. ‘Good, you must have been hungry. Now Mr Brownlow would like to speak to you. Are you well enough to receive him?’

‘Yes, Ma’am; I would like to thank him for his kindness.’

‘Very well, I will see if he is free.’

As I awaited Mr Brownlow, I lifted the covers from the bed. Looking under, I could more fully see the nightgown that I was wearing. It was very pretty and long. The lacework was intricate and fine. This gown could not be mistaken for a boy’s one and for that, I was very pleased! Putting the covers back down, I then felt my nightcap, it seemed to be of a similar material to the gown. I nearly took it off to have a closer look but decided not to in case it was wrong to do so.

I was feeling so much better now and believed that the soup must have had restorative properties. However, I was getting somewhat worried about what Mr Brownlow might have to say to me. Perhaps he would only allow me to stay under his roof until I was well again. Perhaps enquiries had already been made at the workhouse and I may be sent back there or even to Mr Sowerberry!

I was getting close to a state of panic when the door opened and the lady, whose name I still did not know entered, followed by Mr Brownlow.

The lady took one look at me and hurried over.

‘Why, Olivia, do you not feel well again?’

‘I am so sorry, Ma’am, to have caused you and Mr Brownlow so many worries. You must want rid of me.’

‘Of course not, you silly young thing. Mr Brownlow, pray put Olivia’s mind at rest.’

Mr Brownlow came up to the bed and I looked at him with fearful eyes. He smiled at me and then sitting on the bed by my side, he held my quivering hand.

‘Olivia, it is good to see that you have regained your senses and I see that despite being worried for your future, your complexion looks more healthy than last I saw you; do you not think so, Mrs Bedwin?’

‘Indeed I do, Sir, she’s looking much better but, I fear, somewhat concerned regarding her fate.’

‘Quite so; now, Olivia, Mrs Bedwin has told me your story and a sorry one it is. How children can be brought up such as you were, I cannot understand…’

He looked up above my head and then looked at me. He had a puzzled look on his face.

‘Sir, have I done wrong?’

He did not speak for a moment, once again looking above me then down again straight at my face.

‘Erm, no, Olivia, do not concern yourself, but Mrs Bedwin, do you not see a likeness there?’

‘A likeness sir?’

The picture on the wall…there, tell me what do you see?’

‘Why it is your own dear daughter, Agnes, as you well know sir.’

‘Yes, yes, yes, but look, can you not see!’

Mrs Bedwin came closer and looked at the picture above my head; I could not see what they were referring to, as all I could see was the bottom of a heavy gilt frame.

‘Mmm, there is a likeness…yes, Sir, I agree a definite likeness, but how can it be?’

‘I do not know, but I will make enquiries. Now, Olivia, do not worry, you have a home here with us if you would like?’

Puzzled at his remarks about pictures and likenesses I did not fully take in what he was saying.

‘I am sorry, sir, but I do not understand?’

‘I see that I am confusing you. Let me say it clearly. If you wish, you can stay with us under my protection.’

‘Oh thank you, sir, you and Mrs Bedwin are so kind and can I stay as a girl?’

‘Yes, I am aware of your situation and at least until the doctor sees you, you will be considered and treated as a girl. Now as to the other thing, I do not wish to put it clearly to you at the moment in case we are disappointed but I need to know as to which workhouse you were born.’

I was confused at what he was saying and asking, not really understanding his meaning, but I gave him the required information and after bidding me goodnight he left the room seemingly satisfied with my answers.

Mrs Bedwin smiled at me but kept glancing above at the picture that I could not see.

‘Ma’am?’

‘Yes, Olivia.’

‘What is it about the picture that concerns you so?’

‘I cannot say at the moment, but I promise that you will be the first to know once we find out about it. One thing I can say is that you look a bit like Agnes, Mr Brownlow’s long lost daughter and because of this, enquiries will be made at the place that you were born to see if there is any possibility of a connection. Now I can see that you have lost some colour and you look somewhat frail so I think that it would be best if you go to sleep now. I will be here tonight, so do not worry, just rest.’

With that, she helped me to lie down, kissed my forehead, went over to her place by the fire and picking up her crochet work sat down and began to work the needles.

My eyes shut and I went to sleep thinking of the day’s events and the possibility that I may have, at last found a home.

To be continued…