---

 

It was early afternoon when Mrs Medlock entered the hotel to meet Captain Edwards. After speaking briefly to the maá®tre d’ explaining her presence, she was shown over to a table where a middle-aged man sat drinking tea.

“Captain Edwards?” she asked.

“Yes, Mrs Medlock I presume?” he replied, rising to his feet to shake her hand.

Mrs Medlock nodded and he pulled a chair out for her to sit and asked the attendant to bring extra refreshments.

“I was asked to give you this paperwork,” Mrs Medlock stated, handing the gentleman a sealed envelope. The captain took his pocketknife and sliced through the seal. He sat and read the documents before placing them back into the envelope and slipping them inside his jacket pocket.

“Thank you, everything appears to be in order,” he stated.

“Where is the child?” Mrs Medlock asked.

“He will be here shortly,” the man replied, “his safety is my upmost priority, and therefore I took the precaution of keeping him out of sight until I’m certain that I’m handing him over to the right person.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but we need to catch the earliest train possible, it is a long journey back to Ashby and I don’t wish to stop overnight if it can be avoided,” Mrs Medlock said, “Do you require further proof of my identity than the papers provided? If so I am not sure what I can offer.”

“I have no doubt you are who you say you are, Mrs Medlock,” the captain confirmed. “My concern is the welfare of my charge. Before I relinquish my duty, I would like to make sure that you have been properly informed about the boy’s condition. Am I right to assume you will be his principal carer?”

“For the moment, yes,” said Mrs Medlock, “I am primarily the housekeeper of Ashby, and as such oversee all the staff. I won’t necessarily be directly involved with the care of the child, but I am ultimately responsible for him while the master is away. We plan on hiring a tutor, but we are not certain of his current level of education.”

“How much do you know about the boy?” Captain Edwards enquired.

“He is approaching twelve years of age. He is the only child of my master’s younger brother, Frederick Headley. I understand the mother was Indian. Their marriage was frowned upon by the establishment, and Frederick therefore did not keep in contact much with his family in England. We know they lived outside Darjeeling and prospered from the tea trade. We were told that they both passed away from an outbreak of jungle fever, leaving the boy an orphan. As his next of kin, Lord Headley has agreed to take the child, rather than commit him to an orphanage,” the housekeeper explained.

Mrs Medlock paused to drink her tea before continuing, “We know that there was some concern over the boy’s health, residual weakness due to the fever, and that is why it has taken some time to have him brought back to this country.”

“Is that all? Nothing specific about his medical condition?” the captain asked.

“I don’t know to what you refer, is there something wrong with the boy?” Mrs Medlock countered, “I was told that he has been ill, but is now fit to travel.”

“The journey to Ashby Hall, what does it entail?” the captain queried.

“A train from Liverpool Street, changing once, arrives at Haddiscoe Station. We will be met there and taken the last few miles to the hall,” Mrs Medlock replied, “Not a strenuous journey, just a long one.”

Seeking further clarification the captain continued, “How will you get from the station to the hall?”

“By carriage, of course,” came the reply.

“I’m afraid it won’t be that simple, of which I can be certain,” the captain replied, sighing. “I had hoped some news of the boy would have been passed on, but alas it appears I’m to be the one to bring the tidings.”

Captain Edwards drank some more of his tea before explaining his knowledge of the child, “Tragedy first struck two years ago. The horse pulling the mother and son’s carriage was spooked, and the vehicle shot off out of control. It was open-topped, and in overturning, injured both occupants. The boy was partially crushed under the upturned framework. The doctors were able to set his arm, ribs and leg, but he unfortunately was not so lucky elsewhere.”

The man hesitated, slightly embarrassed by the news he needed to relay. “I don’t know the exact extent of the damage, as the boy refuses to be seen naked, but I am led to believe that he is incapable of fathering a child. I get the impression that he isn’t even capable of performing the act, and even if he were able to manage it, he would not be able to sire a child.”

“I had no idea,” Mrs Medlock replied in surprise, “how tragic for the lad.”

“He almost died, in some ways it may have been kinder. The physical injuries have healed, although we cannot replace what had to be removed. Unfortunately, he now suffers from panic attacks whenever he goes near a horse. It is simply impossible to transport him in a carriage, believe me when I tell you not even to try,” the captain stated.

“That will make things difficult to say the least,” Mrs Medlock said.

“Unfortunately that is not all,” the gentleman continued, “The accident seriously affected the boy, and he had become increasingly reclusive, only speaking when absolutely necessary, and often disappearing for days on end. When the jungle fever hit the town, it left half the population dead. He was left alone with his deceased parents for several days before being found and rescued. He was delirious with fever and only just pulled through; it was a miracle that he survived.”

Sipping his tea the captain continued, “The boy is now mute. He hasn’t consciously said a word since the illness struck, not that he spoke much since the previous accident, except when acting as a translator for the native workers. The doctors can’t explain it. We know he is capable of making sounds as he screams during the night; the nightmares come several times a week. However, no matter how hard anybody tries, we can’t get him to talk, and believe me we have tried everything we can think of short of torturing the poor boy.”

“Do you think that he is unwilling or is it that he is unable to talk?” Mrs Medlock asked in concern.

“I don’t know. I can only hope that given the stability of a new home, and time to recover, he may regain the power of speech. He used to be able to speak English and three Indian dialects fluently, with smatterings of other languages as well,” replied Captain Edwards, “This child has been through trauma and witnessed death first hand in the worst possible way. He was found lying amongst the rotting corpses of his family and servants on the brink of death himself, hardly able to move. It was enough to give several battle-hardened veterans from the Boer War nightmares.”

The two adults sat in silence and finished their drinks, contemplating the fate of the young lad. After a few minutes the captain called out, “Richard, please come forward and introduce yourself.”

Mrs Medlock turned to look in the direction of the approaching footsteps. A young boy with jet-black hair and a tanned complexion approached the table, stopping a few feet short of their location. The young man was finely dressed in a pale blue cotton suit with a white silk shirt. On seeing both of the adults looking at him he bowed slowly before walking up beside the captain.

The child was carrying two pieces of artist’s paper. On arriving at the table, he handed the first picture to Mrs Medlock who was surprised to find a pencil sketch of her sitting drinking tea. She realised it must have been drawn since she sat down. The likeness was remarkable. The picture was signed in a swirling signature. Underneath were the words, ‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance’.

“He spends most of his time sketching and painting watercolours,” the captain explained. “It keeps him occupied and out of trouble. It’s the one thing that makes him happy, and is the only time you will see him smile. Most of the time he is very quiet and withdrawn.”

The boy then handed the other piece of paper to the captain, who smiled and thanked him before turning and showing the picture to Mrs Medlock. It was a detailed portrait of the captain in full dress uniform done in pencil, ink and watercolour. It was an exceedingly good likeness and was signed by the child with a message of thanks for caring for him over the last few months since his parents died.

The captain then accompanied them to the train station, bringing with him the boy’s luggage, which amounted to one steamer trunk containing all of his possessions. The trunk was tied onto a cart so that it could be wheeled. As the trunk was large and heavy, the soldier pushed it for them until they reached Liverpool Street Station. Thanking the captain, they said their farewells before heading for their train.

The station was crowded and the young man gladly held onto the older woman’s hand so as not to get lost. After finding and boarding the right train, assisted by a porter with the trunk, they settled into a compartment and began the long ride to Ashby Hall.

---

 

It was late evening before Mrs Medlock and Richard disembarked from the train after several hours’ ride. The sun had already set, but the full moon illuminated the countryside. The platform itself was well-lit by gas lamp. They were greeted by a footman with a horse and carriage waiting for their final leg of the journey.

Heeding the earlier warning of the captain about the child’s unease around such transport, Mrs Medlock was slightly nervous as to what might happen next. Taking a firm hold of the child’s hand, she waited until the locomotive pulled away before trying to walk down the platform. She did not want the child to panic and be hit by the moving train.

Once she deemed it safe, she started to walk towards the exit. On rounding the brick wall and into the pickup point the boy came to an abrupt halt when he saw the carriage waiting. As they were the only people to alight, it was obvious to him that it was waiting for them.

“Come along, it’s perfectly safe and the only way we can get home,” Mrs Medlock said in a kind voice, trying to coax the child into co-operating.

The young man shook his head and remained standing still. Mrs Medlock tugged his hand harder, but still he would not move. Getting annoyed at the boy’s refusal, Mrs Medlock gave a hard pull on the lad causing him to fall over.

Not wanting to drag him along the ground, Mrs Medlock sighed and let go of Richard’s hand. She intended to pick him up round the waist and carry him to the carriage. However, he was too quick for her, and before she could catch him, he darted out of her grasp and grabbed the nearest lamppost. Wrapping his arms and legs round the metal pole, he climbed up to the top where he clenched it for all his worth.

Both Mrs Medlock and the footman attempted to pull him off, but neither could get a good enough grip to part him from the lamppost. The footman was able to grab his foot and pull him back down the pole. Richard had a tight hold, but wasn’t able to maintain enough traction on the painted metal to remain at the top. Mrs Medlock then tried to pull his arms and legs from round the post while the footman pulled at his waist. This was partially successful, but she couldn’t move enough limbs at once to remove young Richard.

On starting to lose the battle, the young boy suddenly let out an ear-piercing high-pitched scream. This had the effect of upsetting the horse standing nearby, and the footman had to let go and dash off after the carriage as it started to take off down the road.

“Stop that noise!” Mrs Medlock shouted angrily. The boy stopped.

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds. Richard then let go of the post with one of his hands so that he could point at himself. He then made a motion with his fingers, walking them up his arm.

He continuously repeated the gestures until Mrs Medlock asked, “You want to walk?”

The boy nodded. He pointed at the housekeeper, then at the carriage, and then at himself and made the walking motion with his fingers.

“Don’t be ridiculous, its five miles to the house, you can’t walk that distance, we will be here all night,” Mrs Medlock stated.

The child’s response was to carry on repeating the hand gestures he had been making.

Reluctantly, Mrs Medlock realised that they were not making any progress. She thought that perhaps a walk might make him change his mind. Therefore, after loading the baggage onto the carriage, Mrs Medlock and the footman pulled away slowly from the station. Once the vehicle was moving, the young man let go of the lamppost and started to follow.

What the adults didn’t know was that the child had spent many hours walking through the Indian countryside. He was perfectly fit and capable of the journey without problems. Walking was one part of his fitness regime that had helped him recover after his accident, and again after the fever.

The carriage initially set off at walking pace, but the horse was not used to doing this journey at that velocity, so settled into its usual stride. The footman worriedly looked behind him, assuming that they would be leaving the boy behind, but was surprised to see the young lad jogging along behind them. In the dim moonlight, the footman could see a smile on the boy’s face. Richard gave a thumbs-up signal to the driver to show that he was happy with the speed.

Although faster than he usually strolled, the boy was used to doing so in a hot, moist climate that sapped energy. In the cool night air of England, he had no difficulty in keeping pace with the carriage.

This continued all the way to the manor house. Ashby Hall was actually only four miles from the station using the route they took. If he had been able to cut across country then it would have only been half that.

A number of staff came out to greet them. All of them were surprised to find the child walking behind the carriage rather than being in it.

Mrs Medlock signalled to two burly men to take the trunk up to the boy’s room. Once inside the foyer of the large house, Richard proceeded to do a number of stretching exercises after his long walk. He was sweating and thirsty from the journey so requested a drink by clicking his fingers to get attention, then making a motion with his hands miming drinking from a glass. One of the servants immediately curtseyed and fetched a glass of water, which the boy took and drank eagerly, but in a refined manner.

Mrs Medlock watched in amusement at how the young lad was able to get the staff to do his bidding without speaking a word. If one is superior enough, then it is the responsibility of the servants to interpret the instructions in whatever form they may take.

“Gwendolyn, is Richard’s room ready?” Mrs Medlock asked.

The servant seemed nervous and on the stare of her superior answered, “Martha is making it ready at this minute.”

“Why is Martha doing it? On second thoughts don’t answer that, I know the reason. I would rather not have the boy involved in your petty superstitions,” Mrs Medlock replied. “Please arrange tea, bread and jam to be brought to the drawing room. Neither of us has eaten since lunchtime, and I would rather not send the boy to bed on an empty stomach. Is His Lordship still up?”

“No ma’am, he has retired as he is leaving for the city early tomorrow for a meeting at the bank. He instructed that both you and the lad should have a late start in the morning due to your long journey,” replied the master’s personal butler.

Mrs Medlock escorted the boy to the drawing room where a light meal had been brought up from the kitchen with refreshments.

---

 

The two people ate in silence, the housekeeper not seeing the point in trying to talk to a person who wouldn’t respond verbally. On finishing their meal, Mrs Medlock led her young charge up the main staircase and along an oak-panelled hall. Mrs Medlock made the younger servant, Gwen, accompany them carrying the paraffin lamp, lighting the way through the dark house.

“These rooms here are the guest suites, we did consider putting you in one initially, but they are designed to be very grand. Hence, they are very large rooms and therefore take a lot to heat. The rooms below, the ballroom and large banquet hall, are rarely used or heated. We thought you might be more comfortable in more cosy surroundings,” the housekeeper stated.

On arriving at a second staircase, this one less ornate than the first, the three individuals climbed up to the top floor of the building, the rooms on this floor being built into the roof space.

“Most of the rooms up this end of the building are empty. If we have guests who bring servants, then these rooms act as their quarters. As such, you won’t be disturbed by the comings and goings of the staff, as their accommodation is up the other end of the house,” Mrs Medlock explained to the boy.

Opening a panelled door at the end of the corridor, they entered a modest, but comfortable sitting room. Richard surveyed the scene in front of him. The room was about twelve feet square, and the far wall was sloped due to the roofline of the building. A single square dormer window overlooked the gardens. Halfway along the wall to his left sat a fireplace in which a metal stove had been positioned to give heat. The fire was currently being stoked by a woman he assumed correctly to be Martha. After poking the embers, she closed the glass door.

Standing in front of the fire were a small table and two leather armchairs. Two tapestries hung either side of the fireplace, adding some colour to the otherwise plain magnolia walls.

Along the right hand wall, a large leather-topped desk with drawers in each pedestal could be found. A wooden chair sat partially under the desk. A sofa had been positioned diagonally across the corner to his right. To Richard’s left stood a small bookcase on the back wall. Between the desk and sofa, a second door was situated halfway along the right hand wall.

At Mrs Medlock’s instruction, Martha showed the boy around the fittings. The tapestries either side of the fireplace acted as curtains. Behind the far curtain, an alcove contained firewood and a small shelf holding a number of spare candles. The main illumination in the room was coming from two gas lamps on the right hand wall, and some candles on the fireplace.

The left hand curtain was pulled back to reveal a third doorway. Opening the door, Martha beckoned the boy inside. He stepped into the candlelit room. This room was about half the width of the first and contained items he had only ever seen before in books.

A large enamel-coated metal bath stood in the centre of the room. Two pipes emerged out of the floor onto which taps were positioned to fill the large vessel. A third pipe came out of the bottom, allowing water to drain away. In addition, there was a toilet and a washbasin with two taps.

“His lordship likes to keep up with the latest technology available. We were therefore able to fit this room out as a bathroom,” Martha explained, “There is a small water tank built into the fire in the main room, and this heats the water for use in here. The hot water comes through the taps with the red markings. The blue taps are the cold water supply. His lordship has built a water tower on this estate that provides fresh water from the nearby lake. A steam pump lifts the water, and gravity provides the force to push it through the pipes, so that we can have running water, even up on this floor, although it doesn’t flow anywhere near as fast as down in the kitchens.”

The boy looked around the room. Going over to the sink, he turned the tap, and cautiously felt the temperature of the hot water. Finding it pleasantly hot, but not scalding, he shut the tap off and smiled at the watching servants.

“Are you familiar with this device?” the young woman asked with slight embarrassment, pointing at the toilet. The porcelain bowl with wooden seat and lid sat against one wall, connected to a high level tank emblazoned with the words, ‘Crapper’s valveless waste preventer’ on the front.

Nodding his head, Richard created the letters, W and C one after the other with his hands. Noting that the boy seemed to be familiar with the relatively new invention, Martha relaxed, glad she didn’t need to explain its purpose.

Leaving the room and returning to the first, they then proceeded through the other door that Richard spotted earlier. This room was about the same size as the sitting room and contained a large king-sized four-poster bed, the framework fitted with curtains to pull round on cold nights to keep the heat in.

Two bedside cabinets were on either side of the bed, each having a large unlit candle upon it. Again, the room was lit by gas lamps.

A fireplace stood in the opposite wall, but no fire had been made. The two alcoves on either side had been fitted with wooden doors. Opening one of the doors, Richard noted the rail and empty coat hangers waiting for his clothes. He observed that his travelling trunk had been placed against one wall, ready to be unpacked. Richard was in possession of the only key, which he kept tied on a chain round his neck under his shirt. Therefore, none of the staff could unload it for him.

“There is a chamber pot under your bed, if you prefer to use that instead of walking though potentially cold rooms during the night,” Martha stated.

Nodding, the boy went over to his trunk. Pulling the key out from round his neck he unlocked it and opened the lid. Pulling two carefully wrapped parcels from the top, he delicately unpacked them. The first item to be revealed was a framed sepia photograph of him standing in front of his parents. Placing the photo on the cabinet by the bed, he then proceeded to the second object, an ornate carriage clock. Winding the springs and setting it from his pocket watch, he placed it next to the photo on the nearest bedside cabinet.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the boy bounced up and down, testing the springs for comfort before nodding and smiling at the watching audience.

A gust of wind rattled the windows, and a strange sound could be heard echoing through the building, a mixture of chains rattling and jangling of bells.

Gwen immediately stifled a scream and started shaking in fright. Martha also looked slightly uneasy at hearing the noise. Mrs Medlock, not fazed by the sound, looked on at the young man in concern. The last thing she needed is for him to be too fearful to stay in the room that he had been given.

The boy did not appear to be scared. If anything, he was amused by the reaction of the people around him, having a slightly puzzled expression on his face. Jumping down off the bed, he went back into the sitting room and stood waiting for the sound. Turning on hearing the noise, he headed out into the corridor, the servants following him. Richard made his way down the corridor stopping at each door and listening.

At the fourth door, he stopped and opened it, disappearing into the moonlit room. A few seconds later, Richard emerged triumphantly carrying an odd-looking object. It was a wooden frame, onto which hanging from string were pieces of chain and metal piping. The child walked back to the waiting servants and shook it, causing it to produce the sounds that they had been hearing.

“I think he has found your ghost, Gwen,” Martha stated, with some relief.

“I swear someone is playing tricks on me,” Gwen replied with annoyance.

Handing the object to Gwen, the boy walked back to the entrance to his rooms, turned, waved, and then went inside, closing the door behind him, leaving the adults in the corridor.

“I take it we have been dismissed,” Mrs Medlock said, before leading the other two women down the stairs.

Richard, on hearing the adults descending to the floor below, leaving him alone, smiled and extinguished the gaslights in the sitting room. Taking a candle from the fireplace, he moved into the bathroom to wash and relieve himself on the new water closet.

Returning to the bedroom, he took his clothes off and laid them over a chair in the corner of the room. Moving to his trunk, he got out a silk nightshirt and slipped it over his head, letting the soft material caress his skin as it fell into place. Extinguishing all the remaining lights, except the candle, he climbed up onto the bed. Settling between the crisp white sheets, he blew the candle out leaving the room in darkness, and fell to sleep.

---

 

The tinkling of the bell on the carriage clock woke Richard at half past seven the next morning. Flicking the lever to stop the sound, the boy climbed out of bed, walked across to his trunk and pulled out a gown to wear over his nightshirt.

For once, he felt fully rested and refreshed - the nightmares that had been interrupting his sleep having kept away. Pulling back the curtains, he surveyed the countryside around the house. Being high up he was able to look out over the hedges and formal gardens beneath his window.

Moving through to the sitting room, he stoked the fire and added some wood. The room was cool, but pleasant in temperature. However, remembering that the fire also heated the water in the bathroom, he added some logs from the alcove behind the curtain to get the heat building.

Curling up in one of the fireside chairs, he sat down and read the book he had bought while in London. ‘David Copperfield’ by Charles Dickens was partially set not far from the Ashby estate.

It was half an hour later when he heard footsteps approaching outside in the corridor. Opening the door to his room, he smiled as Martha approached delivering breakfast. Standing out of her way, he beckoned the servant into the room. Carrying the tray inside, she set it down on the desk.

Lifting off the cover, Martha revealed the spread of food beneath. A plate of toast, bacon, eggs and sausage enticed the hungry child. A pot of tea and a teacup also sat on the tray.

Smiling, Richard pulled out the wooden chair, and sat down to eat his breakfast while Martha went to clean the fire.

“You’ve already set the fire going I see,” Martha commented. Turning to face her, the boy gestured towards the bathroom door.

“You’re heating some water?” Martha asked, seeing where the boy was pointing. He nodded and turned back to eating his meal.

Martha then disappeared into the bedroom to make the bed before coming back out as Richard put his utensils down. Taking his tea, he crossed and sat in front of the fire to drink the beverage.

“Will you be washing, or would you like a bath?” the woman asked.

As the young man held two fingers up in reply, Martha clarified, “A bath?” to which the boy nodded.

Martha went through to the next room and started the water flowing. After checking that it was up to temperature, she turned the tap to full and let the bath fill. Richard, having finished his drink, came into the room and hung his gown on the back of the door.

The servant waited by the bath as it filled. When the water started to run cold, she checked the temperature of the bath, and deciding that the level was deep enough, shut off the tap. She stood with a flannel in hand waiting for the boy.

The child slowly looked at the servant. While Richard had help to wash back in India, he was less willing to have assistance now. Only a select few individuals had opportunity to see the extent of his injuries, and he didn’t see any need to expand that number now. The boy pointed at Martha and then at the door, indicating that he wanted to be left alone.

“Very well, if you insist,” Martha stated. “Ring the bell, the pull cord near the door to the corridor, when you’re finished.”

The servant left the room. The boy locked the door behind her before using the toilet, removing his nightshirt as he did so. Richard climbed into the soapy hot water to relax and clean himself.

After a good soak, the child climbed out of the tub, emptying it, and wrapped himself in the large fluffy towel that Martha had left for him. After patting himself dry, he walked through to the bedroom, where he retrieved a fresh set of clothes from his trunk, and proceeded to get dressed.

Richard wore another silk shirt, and pulled on cotton trousers and a jacket in a bright red. He was fond of vivid colours, and even if they might look odd to European eyes, he liked them.

Returning to the sitting room, he pulled the cord to ring the bell and sat back down with his book.

A few minutes later, Martha came back into the room. Seeing the boy fully dressed, she checked the towels, noting that they had been neatly hung to dry. Taking the wet towels to wash, Martha then requested any clothes that needed laundering. The two of them went into the bedroom and sorted through the boy’s trunk. They hung clean clothes in the cupboards, and put soiled garments in a pile to take downstairs.

The boy wrote instructions on how the delicate fabrics from India should be handled. He made it clear that his instructions should be followed or the clothes would be damaged. Martha then left the boy in his room to read, returning with a meal at lunchtime.

“Do you plan on spending the day inside, it’s lovely outside? Do you want to explore the gardens?” Martha asked when she collected the dishes from the room after the boy had eaten his meal.

Richard nodded. Martha then explained the extent of the grounds. A lot of the surrounding farmland was part of the estate. In addition, there were formal gardens and woodland surrounding the house.

“There are only two places where it is inadvisable or impossible to go,” Martha stated. “The first is the lower field on the north side of the grounds. This is set up as a firing range and is used year round for both live targets and clay pigeon shooting. I suspect you will be given an opportunity to take part at some point, but it’s best to stay away from that area in case you are shot.”

The boy nodded vigorously at this suggestion. He did not fancy being shot at.

“The second place is the far walled garden on the east side. The old Lord Headley, your grandfather, gave each of his sons a garden. He was a firm believer in nature as being spiritual, and insisted that his children look after their plot of land themselves without assistance of gardeners,” Martha explained, “His Lordship still looks after his own roses in the northernmost garden, although he now has a gardener cut the grass for him. He also did the same thing with his own children, although they have now handed their gardens back to the gardeners since they left for university.”

Richard knew that he had several older cousins, and had wondered if they would be living here when he arrived.

“The southernmost walled garden is the one given to your father. When he left for India, he locked the door, and instructed that it should be left alone to grow wild for birds and butterflies. He took the key with him, and nobody has bothered to go in there since,” the servant said, “I suppose it’s really your garden now, but I don’t recommend trying to get in. It must be completely overgrown after all this time. If you’re into gardening, I’m sure his Lordship would allow you to claim one of the other gardens for your use.”

This intrigued the child. The thought of his own private garden that nobody else would ever enter appealed to him.

Richard packed his satchel with his art material. Checking that his pocket watch was wound and set correctly, he descended the stairs and out the front door. He immediately started to walk round the grounds, paying particular attention to the walled gardens. He decided that his first task would be to map the entire estate.

This was an exercise his late tutor had made him do in India in order to teach him angles and trigonometry. He had to map accurately the whole plantation. Using the same principles, he started methodically to work his way through the grounds, noting landmarks and measuring angles of various fixed points, including the flagpole on the manor roof, a church spire in the nearby village, and a large oak tree that seemed to be visible from everywhere.

He found the location of the sealed garden, and couldn’t see any obvious doorway into it. However, several sections of wall were covered in bushes and ivy and he didn’t have time to investigate the entrance. That task could wait until another day.

The child had worked up a good appetite by the time he returned for the evening meal.

---

 

“His lordship will return later this afternoon, and is bringing guests. Your presence has been requested for afternoon tea,” Martha told Richard, when serving breakfast the following morning.

The young man spent the first half of the day continuing to survey the gardens, triangulating and mapping the features for future reference, learning the layout of the grounds so he could navigate through them without getting lost.

Mid-afternoon, a carriage pulled up outside of Ashby Manor. Lord Headley disembarked and headed for his study, instructing afternoon tea should be served, and that the young Master Headley should join him.

Martha was sent to fetch the young man, who was waiting in his room, using his measurements to plot the gardens on a large sheet of parchment. Knowing that his presence would be requested, he had stayed in after lunch.

On hearing that he had been called for, Richard got up, picked up the small satchel that he normally used for carrying his artwork, and followed the servant to the study. The lord’s private butler was waiting outside the room, and Martha handed the child to him and made her exit. The butler opened the door and announced the boy’s presence.

“Master Richard, Sir,” the butler proclaimed. The young man stepped into the room and glanced round at his surroundings. The study was lined in wood panelling and a fireplace occupied one wall. The room was dominated by a large wooden desk, where his uncle was sitting.

The older man looked at the boy standing before him. The child looked a lot like his father had at his age, but with a much darker skin tone. Lord Headley had been worried that the boy may look obviously half-caste, something that would not go over well in society. However, Richard just appeared to be a well-tanned European.

Coming round the desk, Samuel Headley approached the young boy, who bowed formally at his approach.

“You have my condolences at your loss. Having lost my own parents a couple of years ago I know how upsetting that can be,” he said to the boy, who nodded but remained silent.

“Please take a seat. We have some things to discuss. Mrs Medlock told me of your problems with speech, Richard,” Samuel added. The young boy again nodded. “I have asked for a chalk board to be set up in the drawing room, I suspect we will need it later in order to communicate when our guests arrive.”

The two generations of the Headley household sat at opposite sides of the large desk.

“As you are aware, your father was a successful businessman, exporting tea from India for consumption here in England. As part of his will, which I believe has already been read to you?” Samuel queried to which the boy nodded. “You inherit his shares, making you the principal shareholder. These are being held in trust until you mature. Until then, I have been given the task of looking after the company on your behalf.”

The young man nodded again in acknowledgement. He already knew this before he left India. It had taken several weeks before he was strong enough to travel. Captain Edwards had been assigned to look after him, and assisted in sorting out his father’s affairs before they left.

The butler knocked, then entered the study, “Your guests have arrived and are in the drawing room.”

Acknowledging the butler, Samuel led the boy to where the two men were waiting.

“Welcome to my home, I hope you both had pleasant journeys,” Lord Headley greeted them. “This is my nephew, Richard. Richard, this is Mr Baxter and Mr Wainwright. Mr Baxter is my solicitor and handles my legal affairs. Mr Wainwright is in charge of Headley Tea’s London office.”

Everybody shook hands. The men settled down to business over afternoon tea, Richard taking position next to the blackboard in order to write down anything he needed to say, Samuel explaining why it was required.

“Mr Wainwright how goes the trade?” his lordship asked.

“Production stopped for three weeks due to the outbreak. Nearly a third of the workforce died, another third were left seriously ill. The latest communication is that production is back up to seventy percent, but will take several months to recover fully. Although gross profit has been badly affected, the net profit won’t fare as badly. The largest cost is manual labour, and with fewer people left to pay, the overheads are reduced,” Mr Wainwright reported, handing a copy of the latest accounts to Lord Headley. “Current end of year estimates are for three hundred pounds net.”

Richard gasped in surprise, immediately retrieving a ledger from his case he started to check his notes. The other men watched in puzzlement as the sullen and withdrawn boy suddenly became animated. Richard stood and turned to the blackboard, writing in large white letters the words “Last estimate before I left India:  £2,573 net profit, including  £500 donation to support families affected by outbreak. Explain.”

The boy then stood and stared at Mr Wainwright, crossing his arms in front of him and raising his eyebrows in a questioning look.

The men glanced at each other, wondering how to respond. Mr Wainwright then answered, “Where do you get your information? I have copies of the accounts forwarded from India; they show nowhere near that level of income.”

The boy opened his notebook and showed it to his uncle. The book contained passages of shorthand, followed by longhand writing. Clipped in the book were loose sheets of typed text that matched the handwritten passages. The older man sat and read the entries of the journal for ten minutes while the other people patiently waited.

“Mr Wainwright, who is running the company at the Darjeeling end?” Lord Headley enquired.

“Mr Alfred Carpenter, the former under-manager we promoted to fill the position of the late Mr Headley,” the man answered.

“Sack him, or better yet, have him arrested. I have reason to believe he is acting fraudulently,” Samuel stated. “I have here minutes of all the senior management meetings for the last year. In the last meeting to take place before everybody fell ill, it states that a detailed audit had been commenced due to the discovery of irregularities in the books. An external auditor, a Miss Rose Kayeeda, employed directly by my brother Fredrick, had looked at the books and found discrepancies. The finger of blame was pointed in Carpenter’s direction, but this obviously wasn’t acted upon.”

“This person sounds like a native, can she be trusted? The surname is Indian, and you said ‘Miss’, so I assume she didn’t marry into the name,” Mr Baxter asked. “If this person is still alive, then they may be able to provide testimony.”

Turning to Richard, his uncle then asked, “Do you know this person? Is she reliable? Is she still alive? Do you know how to contact her?” Each question was answered with a nod of the head. “Then that is all the clarification I need.” Turning to his two guests, he then stated, “I would like you two to liaise on getting to the bottom of this matter. I will see about contacting Miss Kayeeda to obtain a copy of her findings.”

After some further discussions of logistics, it was decided that further investigation was required, and the two guests departed for London, taking the loose typed sheets for copying.

Once they had gone, Richard produced a second notebook from his bag and handed it to his uncle; he then proceeded to write ‘Miss Kayeeda’s notes’ on the blackboard.

Looking in surprise, Samuel started to skim-read some of the findings. The investigation had been ongoing for several weeks, but the findings had never been written up into a final report. It would appear only half of the notes had been converted into typed text.

“I will read these thoroughly over the weekend and speak to my colleagues on Monday. I want you to know that you can trust me. I fully intend to keep your father’s business running so that you may one day take over the helm when you are ready,” Lord Headley stated. The young man nodded in agreement.

---

 

Lord Headley stared at the notebook that he had just been given by Richard. It was supposedly the notes from the external auditor. Quite why the boy had Miss Kayeeda’s notes, he couldn’t work out.

Like the book of minutes, this notebook contained sections of shorthand and normal writing, but the text in this book was slightly different. The first book had been written with swift fluid strokes, where the second seemed to be inscribed with a lot more focus being placed on the accuracy of the letter shapes.

Since reading the name of the auditor in the minutes, something had been bothering Lord Headley. He was sure that he had heard the name before, but didn’t want to say anything in front of his guests. Reaching into his desk drawer, he pulled out a large box of paperwork. This contained the personal papers of his late brother, which Captain Edwards had posted to him a few weeks before. Flicking through the items he located a sealed envelope marked, ‘R. Kayeeda’ and pulled out the contents. Two pieces of paper were inside.

The first was a covering letter from the local government offices in India. Reading the note it would appear that Fredrick had requested a copy of a birth certificate for Miss Kayeeda. The second sheet was the certificate itself. The document did not give much information. The mother was named as ‘Aslesha Kayeeda’ and the father wasn’t listed.

Lord Headley handed the papers to Richard and asked, “Do you have any idea why your father may have had these?”

The child appeared to be shocked on seeing the documents. However, the boy quickly regained his composure and covered his surprise with a neutral expression before shrugging and returning the paperwork to his uncle.

The man looked on in suspicion, but decided not to press the matter further for the moment. He would keep hold of the certificate and letter for further investigation. It appeared to Lord Headley that Richard might know more than he was letting on.

“Now onto other matters, I have asked the headmaster of the local school, Mr Hobbs, to come and assess your level of education. I don’t know what schooling you have received. You’re obviously literate, but I would like to know how you compare to other children your age,” Samuel stated.

The boy nodded his head in acceptance. Richard had a private tutor in India, and was a keen Student, but was curious himself as to his level of knowledge. He thought of himself as being intelligent and well-educated. He also liked to read and whenever he could, he would study the journals from the Royal Society.

“While you stay here, you have the freedom of this house and its grounds. I understand that you like painting. There are many scenes in the surrounding countryside that I think you may find interesting. The fresh air and tranquillity will do you good, both in mind and body. We are only four miles from the coast,” Samuel stated. “If you wish to travel to the beach, or one of the nearby towns, put a request in to Mrs Medlock and she can arrange for somebody to take you in the carriage.”

Turning to the blackboard, Richard wiped it clean with the cloth provided and then wrote, “I’m unable to travel by horse-drawn transport. I have panic attacks. I was almost killed in one.” After a pause, he then decided to add, “May I have a bicycle?”

His uncle considered this for a moment, “Yes, I will arrange for one to be delivered. This actually brings me onto the last thing I need to discuss. I notice that you are listed as an employee of the company, on a salary of nearly one hundred pounds per annum. Was this a way for your father to give you an allowance, or did you actually have a function. I note you minuted the management meetings.”

Richard picked up the book containing the meeting minutes and flicked through the pages to an entry from the previous June. Pointing to a paragraph, he handed the book to his uncle, who then read the highlighted text under the title of any other business:

Question from Mr Miller. Why are we paying Richard Headley?

Answer from Fredrick Headley: Richard has several roles.

Since Mrs Jones left the company to raise a family, he has taken over a number of her duties including minute taking, typing and filing.

He is fluent in nearly all local dialects and is therefore able to act as a translator to make sure that the workforce understands what is required of them.

Because he is able to understand them, and is familiar with local knowledge and customs, he is trusted by the workers and they talk freely in his presence, something they don’t often do when Englishmen are around. He is therefore able to use this to his advantage to spot issues before they become serious.

This directly assists in keeping the workforce motivated and productive, which in turn helps to make us one of the most profitable tea growers in the area.

Richard has also started an apprenticeship in bookkeeping under Mr Horsey.

“I see,” Lord Headley noted. “Now that you are no longer fulfilling those duties, I can’t justify paying you forty shillings a week. I will however provide you with an allowance of thirty shillings a week if you agree to act as my personal advisor on the tea trade. I know virtually nothing about the company I have inherited and your insight will be most valuable in keeping everything running smoothly.”

Richard nodded and smiled in return, happy with the arrangement. The two of them shook hands on the deal.

Dinner that evening was served in the dining room, and the two family members ate together. Lord Headley was pleased to see that the child was well groomed in table manners and had no problem with the formal setting.

Richard retired to bed after dinner, exhausted from the earlier excitement. Meeting new people always made him nervous.

---

 
Richard was woken the following morning by his alarm, and proceeded to wash and dress himself while he waited for breakfast. Martha came in carrying his meal just as he was coming out of the bathroom.

“You have the morning to yourself,” Martha stated as she cleaned the fire while he ate, “Mr Hobbs will be here after lunch to test you. Had you anything in mind for what you wanted to do today?”

The boy simply pointed at the semi-complete map of the gardens he was constructing. Martha was impressed by the boy’s artwork. About three-quarters of the grounds had accurately been plotted in pencil, and he was slowly filling in the details with pastels.

At two in the afternoon, he was called down to the library by Mrs Medlock. Upon entering the grand room, lined from floor to ceiling on every wall with bookcases, he spotted an older gentleman standing and looking out one of the windows.

The young boy approached the grey-haired austere-looking man and stood waiting for him to say something. Mr Hobbs slowly turned to face the boy and regarded him closely, looking down on him over his large nose. The elder man was the epitome of a schoolmaster, surveying the boy as though he were a speck of dirt, his posture commanding respect; he deliberately designed his actions to be intimidating.

Richard looked on respectfully as he had been taught. One must always revere one’s elders. However, while deference must be given to age and position, and politeness maintained, respect was something to be earned. Richard was not intimidated by the older man and after bowing politely, simply stood looking straight ahead, waiting for instruction.

Mr Hobbs continued his silent inspection of the boy, waiting for the lad to become uncomfortable and start fidgeting, as most of the boys made to stand in front of him did. After several minutes of silence, it became apparent that the child was not going to react.

“I have been told that you have lost the power of speech,” the teacher stated, “I find this highly strange, but I won’t press the matter yet.”

The somewhat-threatening tone of the statement caused Richard to be uneasy. However, he did not let it show.

“On the desk you will find a pen and paper, please be seated and I will dictate you a passage of text to write to test your ability,” Mr Hobbs instructed. The boy nodded and then proceeded to sit down. Checking the fountain pen was working and contained sufficient ink from the pot, he nodded to indicate he was ready.

The headmaster then read out a pre-prepared passage. Starting slowly, the man increased his speed until the boy was struggling to keep up. After a few sentences, the man sped up again, in an attempt to intimidate the boy and see how he reacted to pressure. The reaction from the boy caught Mr Hobbs by surprise. Instead of signalling the man to slow down, or complaining about the speed, the boy switched to a second sheet of paper and started writing in shorthand.

Finishing the paragraph, the teacher came to a halt. As soon as he stopped talking, Richard returned to writing on the original sheet of paper, copying the text from his abbreviated notes. Mr Hobbs walked round the back of the boy and looked over his shoulder as he completed writing up the dictation.

Although not familiar with the stenographic form in use, he could see that the boy must have been taught how to perform dictation. Seeing the brevity of the shorthand, the teacher realised that no matter how fast he spoke, the young man could keep up. Instead, he continued to dictate at a speed so that Richard didn’t need to switch to the abbreviated form. The educator detected a slight smile as the child realised that the velocity of dictation had dropped.

This exercise continued for the next ten minutes with progressively harder language. Nothing seemed to faze Richard, and although there were a few mistakes on words he had never heard before, he had successfully demonstrated that his skills in writing were excellent.

The teacher then proceeded to write passages of text onto the blackboard without any punctuation, capitalisation, or breaks, and then got the boy to add in the missing syntax. Each time the boy completed the task without fuss, and more importantly, correctly.

Mr Hobbs continued to write passages on the board with various grammatical errors, each of which Richard instantly spotted and corrected.

Not finding anything to fault the boy with on his English language skills, the teacher decided to move on to mathematics, first testing addition and then subtraction by writing out six-figure numbers and getting the boy to solve the problems. After completing ten of each, it was obvious that the boy was having no trouble with the simple equations. Mr Hobbs then started to call out multiplication problems from the one to twelve times tables, with the boy instantly writing down the answer in each case, although on a few he seemed to hesitate for a second before writing the correct answer.

The next task given was multiplication of large numbers. Given two five-digit figures, Richard was asked to multiply them together. The boy duly complied and proceeded to calculate the answers using long multiplication. The exercise was repeated several more times, until the teacher was satisfied that the boy could cope with multiplication without difficulty.

Mr Hobbs then asked Richard to divide 144,585 by 153. The boy quickly wrote down the answer, but the teacher couldn’t work out the method he used. It looked like long division, but involved addition in an extra column down the side.

Puzzled, the teacher set a second problem; again, the boy repeated the same method, arriving at the answer but by unknown means.

The third time the teacher asked the boy to explain his method. The boy demonstrated the ‘double division’ technique he was utilising. He multiplied the divisor by 2, 4 and 8. Then placing the highest of the three answers that was smaller than the digits of the dividend below the original number, he filled the spaces to the right with zeros. To the side he placed the multiplier plus the same number of zeros in a column to the right. Subtracting the two numbers in the first column, he then repeated the process until no remainder was left. Adding the numbers of the second column gave the answer to the division.

Mr Hobbs checked the answers by completing the same problems using his method, saying aloud his method to the puzzled-looking boy, who, the teacher concluded, must not have been ever taught the traditional method. Both methods seemed always to arrive at the same answer. After much consideration, the teacher concluded that the boy’s method, although longer, was in some ways easier to apply. He decided that it didn’t matter which method was used. The important fact was that the boy could arrive at the correct answer in each case.

Deciding there was nothing to fault in the boy’s arithmetic, the headmaster moved on to harder subjects including algebra, trigonometry, statistical analysis and calculus. Having exhausted his own knowledge on the subject, Mr Hobbs couldn’t come up with a problem the boy didn’t know how to solve.

He then decided to query Richard on his scientific knowledge. His first question was whether he ever read any scientific journals. When the child eagerly wrote down a list of academic titles that he read when given the opportunity, listing his favourite individual papers, including many by prominent scientists such as William Buckland, Charles Darwin, and Christian Doppler, the headmaster decided it was pointless to even question further. His own knowledge on the fast-moving developments in science were probably well behind the boy.

Teaching in the local school, mainly to people who would never become anything more than farm hands or domestic servants, he concentrated on the three Rs and not much else.

They had already been at the assessment for nearly three hours when Lord Headley, interested in seeing how the evaluation was going, decided to sneak quietly into the library to see how they were getting on. Richard was feverously scribbling on the blackboard as Lord Headley approached. The child’s full concentration was on his task.

Seeing the other man come near, Mr Hobbs gestured that he should stay quiet. Samuel crept round to where he could observe what the boy was writing, or in fact drawing. On the board was slowly taking shape a map of the world. Although not wholly accurate, the outline of the continents was clearly recognisable. What was amazing was that the boy was currently filling in the outlines of every country and its capital.

Skimming over the picture being formed, Lord Headley couldn’t initially spot any errors. After several more minutes, the boy came to a halt and started to scratch his head. He then wrote under his creation, “I know some are missing, but I can’t remember where they go.” Shrugging his shoulders, Richard put the chalk down, and sat in a chair in exhaustion.

“I asked the boy to make a list of countries and their capitals, this is what he produced,” Mr Hobbs stated, “Do you think he has accomplished the task?”

Taking the atlas handed to him, Lord Headley walked up to the board and started to examine the creation before him, “I don’t think I could even list this many countries, let alone put them in place on a map as accurately as this. While not drawn fully to scale, it appears most of the countries and cities are roughly in the right place.”

“There are no maps visible in this room, and I didn’t give him access to any before he started. That is done from memory,” Mr Hobbs declared.

“Amazing, you certainly know your geography, young man,” Samuel replied.

“It’s not just geography; it’s the same with every task I give him. He could trounce any of my school leavers. He has enough skill to pass not only the normal level exams, but also the higher exams for eighteen year olds. I suspect his level of academic knowledge could probably beat university graduates,” Mr Hobbs stated. “If he could actually talk, and he wasn’t so young, I would consider employing him in the school as a teacher.”

Richard audibly gasped at this revelation and sat open-mouthed in shock. He knew he was answering the questions correctly for the most part, but had no idea on just how hard the material had in fact been.

“You want my advice, forget trying to school him. There is only one thing he needs to learn in order to be able to walk into whatever profession he chooses,” Mr Hobbs stated as he rose to his feet, smiling. “Learn to talk.”

There was a noted change in attitude from Mr Hobbs. He no longer was looking down on the boy, but treating him as an equal, something that he only did very rarely and never to one so young. Shaking hands with the two family members, the schoolteacher departed, leaving them both in shock.

“I guess that there is no need for me to employ a tutor for you,” Lord Headley declared. “Please take advantage of this library and by all means order any literature you feel you need. I agree with Mr Hobbs, the one thing you need to do is try to recover your power of speech.”

Richard smiled and nodded at his uncle. It was perhaps time to end his silence, but he had issues to deal with first.

The boy went to bed early that evening, exhausted from the testing. The nightmares that plagued him over the past months, once again returned to disturb his sleep. It was around one in the morning when he woke to the sound of creaking. For a few moments, in a state of being semi-awake, he could swear he heard someone moving about in the space above his ceiling.

Sitting up, he listened closely for any further sound, but none came. Assuming that he must have been imagining things, he laid back down and tried to go back to sleep.

---

 

Sunday morning was occupied with visiting the local church. While he enjoyed the sermon, Richard found the experience of being looked at by all the villagers unnerving, especially when the vicar welcomed him to the congregation, making him the centre of attention. His prayers that day were simply to vanish.

Seeing that the boy was becoming increasingly distressed by the experience, Mrs Medlock decided to organise her staff, who all attended, in a human shield around the child so that none of the other parishioners could get close. They stood surrounding him and waited for all the others slowly to leave before swiftly proceeding out of the church and up the path to the manor.

After eating some lunch, Richard spent the afternoon completing his survey of the grounds. By the end of the day, he had satisfied himself that he was familiar with the layout of the gardens.

Monday, Richard started his next self-assigned task. He had decided to investigate the locked garden that once belonged to his father.

Noting the layout of the other gardens, he made a guess as to where the door was likely to be. Deciding it would be on the south side, he then proceeded to examine the wall closely. Taking a large stick, he prodded the wall every foot or so, listening for whether he was striking stone or wood. Using this method, he was able to work his way along the wall until the sound changed, indicating a different surface.

It only took half an hour to locate the door concealed behind a curtain of ivy. This part of the wall was hidden from view from the path by several large shrubs, making it ideal for slipping into the garden unseen.

The next problem was going to be how to get inside. The solitary key belonged to his father, and this had been taken to India. Richard had only a single key, the one to his luggage, and it was obvious that it was too small for unlocking the sturdy wooded door.

The door opened inwards, so both the hinges and lock were fitted to the opposite side of the door, making it impossible for him to attack from this side. The only way in would be to chop though the door with an axe.

While smashing the door to pieces might have been very therapeutic, Richard did not like this idea. There were gardeners working nearby who would hear and come to investigate. He wanted to keep this a secret, so decided to see if there was another method of entry.

He spent the whole day circling the garden, examining the wall for any possible means of access.

The wall was at least eight feet in height. There seemed to be only one door and that appeared sturdy. After discounting trying to smash through the door, he looked for other options. The wall was both tall and thick, so digging a tunnel underneath didn’t seem a practical alternative.

By mid afternoon he had concluded that the only way in would be to climb over the wall. This posed a problem. He could potentially borrow a ladder, but that would be risky. There were a couple of climbable trees, but he wasn’t sure that the branches overhanging the garden were strong enough to support his weight. He would have to drop down the other side from a considerable height onto an unknown surface. If he did get in using this method, he could become trapped if he failed to get the door open.

He decided to ponder the problem the next day. Going to the library, he found a history book that talked about castles and sieges. The walls were tall and thick, not unlike a fortification, so he researched how such obstacles were normally overcome. He concluded that a rope and grappling hook would be the best solution. He could climb up the wall, and then lower the rope the other side, repeating the process to leave again if required.

Looking round the gardens, he noted one other similar door. The one on the kitchen garden seemed to be of identical design, so he carefully examined the door, lock and key while nobody was observing.

The doors were made out of a fine-grained wood and consisted of a strong dovetail jointed wooden frame with eight small panels. The lock on the kitchen garden was fitted to the inside of the door, screwed on the rear surface. Assuming that the other door lock was fitted in the same fashion, if he could get in the garden, he could remove the lock from the door, and then open it.

As a long shot, Richard borrowed the key from the kitchen garden and tried to use it to open the secret door. Unsurprisingly this didn’t work. The key was able to turn a little way, which seemed to indicate that the locks and keys were of the same design.

Wednesday morning Richard made a search of the outbuildings and stables to find tools he could use to gain access. Luckily, the stables were empty when he came to search them. Mrs Medlock had taken the carriage into town to purchase supplies.

Quickly searching the stalls, he found a screwdriver and rasp used when maintaining the horses’ shoes. He also retrieved a length of rope from amongst the many bundles lying in the spare tackle. Investigation of the storerooms near the kitchens uncovered a large meat hook that would serve as a grappling hook. Sneaking these items out, he placed them under the bushes near the door until he could use them.

The following morning he made his attempt to climb the walls. After walking round the gardens to make sure that the gardeners were well away from the area, Richard tied the rope to the meat hook and attempted to grapple the wall.

The first few attempts the hook failed to establish a hold on the stonework. One attempt seemed to be firm, but half way up the wall it came detached, causing Richard to fall back to the ground, the hook falling beside the child almost spearing him in the process. The ground below the spot the boy chose to climb was soft and he wasn’t injured in the fall, but it did scare Richard enough to be extra careful to make sure the rope was firm.

After an hour of trying, the child finally made it to the top of the wall. Fixing the hook round the other way, and dropping the rope inside, he carefully made his way to the ground on the other side of the wall. Richard had to be careful as wild blackberries growing up the wall inside were thorny and could easily cause injury.

The garden was overgrown, but nevertheless beautiful. The outside of the garden was covered in bushes and trees. A trellis tunnel curved from the door, through the bushes and trees to the centre of the garden. A clearing in the centre revealed a flagstone courtyard with weeds pushing their way through the cracks. A small pond sat in the centre of the paved area. On the opposite side of the garden, a summerhouse sat overlooking the pond.

Around the sides of the paved area were raised flowerbeds that must have once contained bulbs, the contents of which now grew wild.

The garden would need some work, but that could wait. After a quick look round, the child returned to the door. The most important task would be escaping from the garden before he was missed.

Taking the screwdriver, he removed the lock from the door. The lock also acted as the door fastening, so with it removed there was nothing holding the door shut. The hinges were stiff and rusty, but this didn’t stop the door from being opened.

Dismantling the device took some work, but the youngster was able to prise it apart. Manually moving the levers and retracting the bolt, Richard was able to reassemble and refit the lock. The door could once again be closed, but not sealed.

After making sure the door was shut and hidden behind the ivy, the now slightly-mucky lad returned to his room to have a wash in time for lunch.

---

 

After finishing his meal, Richard prepared to spend the afternoon in the garden. Taking his satchel of art materials into his bedroom, he went to his travel trunk.

The trunk appeared to be empty, with all the clothes now hanging in his cupboards. The boy opened the lid and carefully felt his way round the floor of the lined case. Pressing the two hidden buttons, there was a faint click as the false bottom popped out of place. Pulling the panel out of the way revealed the secret compartment below. Taking one of the garments from the covert four-inch section of the trunk, he carefully packed it into the satchel. Richard then sneaked out into the grounds and made his way to the secret garden.

After making sure nobody was looking, he slipped through the door, closing it behind him. Walking down to the summerhouse, he stepped inside the dilapidated building. After brushing the leaves and dust out of the way, he carefully laid his bag down and started to strip naked.

A few minutes later, a shy demure young girl in an attractive pale yellow summer dress stepped from the summerhouse to admire her garden.

The child giggled and stood spinning in the afternoon sunlight, her dress floating up. Coming to a stop, she stood and faced the sun. Closing her eyes and leaning her head backwards, the young woman soaked up the warmth, the cool breeze blowing under the hem of her skirt and tickling her bare legs under the light fabric. The skirt was actually shorter than normally worn and only came down to six inches below the knee, leaving a large amount of leg on show.

Throwing the blanket she had brought with her over a patch of long grass, the girl lay down on her back looking up at the sky.

Simply to be dressed in her feminine clothes again was a great relief for the child. Even though she had only started to wear such clothes less than two years previously, she had always admired the softer side of life.

The transformation from boy to girl had been more than a simple change of clothes. It was as if a door had been unlocked in the boy’s mind, releasing the soul trapped inside.

That first day she didn’t do much other than relax and be herself. This was the first time since her parents died that she truly felt alive. Richard was merely a pale imitation of a boy who once existed, a protective shell round the real personality growing beneath.

During his early years, the boy had been like a caterpillar, knowing he would someday change, but not knowing exactly into what. The accident had triggered him to transform, and he had to wrap himself into a cocoon for protection when the jungle fever swept through the child’s home. The chrysalis was now being broken, and like a beautiful butterfly, the girl hidden within was now starting to break out to face the world in a new form.

Here in the garden, she could once again become herself. The solitude provided by the high stone walls locked out any possibility of discovery. This provided security, but also sadness as she was a very lonely girl. Her existence needed to be kept secret for safety, but it also prevented her from having friends.

The double-edged sword of secrecy acted to provide both happiness and sadness for the child. What she longed for was a friend. However, Lord Headley’s own children had already grown up and left the nest, leaving the young child alone.

She could potentially have walked down to the village, or even as far as the nearest town. However, the sudden appearance of a young girl would arouse suspicion and that was something she wished to avoid.

With the shadows growing across the ground, the girl once again transformed herself into a boy for the return to the manor.

This was the start of a daily routine, which the child would continue for the next few weeks. Each morning, Richard would head outside after breakfast and spend the morning working in the secret garden. Having only limited girls’ clothes, and not wanting them to get dirty, the child kept in boy mode while gardening. After lunch, which was now collected from the kitchen first thing in the morning in a picnic basket, the young person would change into girl mode for the remainder of the afternoon. She would spend the time painting, smelling the roses, and dancing round her garden. Each evening, after reluctantly changing back to male presentation, Richard would head to the house for his evening meal.

Part of the child’s recovery process after the accident was to learn the ancient Indian martial art of Kalarippayattu. As with most martial arts, while principally used as a fighting technique, it can also be used to build strength, the fluid body movements promoting flexibility and fitness. The girl had focused mainly on the dancelike body movements and used them for an exercise routine. She was out of practice, as she couldn’t perform the routines when travelling. Most of the martial art forms had been banned in Imperial India so that rebels couldn’t train and start uprisings. Therefore, while travelling with a British army officer, she thought it unwise to demonstrate such knowledge.

Instead, her recent exercise routine had been limited to walking and running, which although good for fitness, was not as much to her liking. It felt good to get back into a more normal routine. While physically fit, she needed to practice her poise and balance. The child had spent several months exclusively portraying as Richard. In order to avoid being branded effeminate, the young person had been posturing in an overly masculine fashion - something she now needed to reverse and once again become used to presenting her body language in a delicate feminine manner.

The other activity that the child hadn’t done in several months was talk, having enforced a self-imposed vow of silence as a method of protection. Initially trying to maintain two different voices for separate gender presentations, she had found that she could not accurately maintain the division between the two. This was something that frustrated the child greatly considering the youngster’s natural talent at learning languages. Rather than trying to sustain two distinct voices, she instead phased out her usage of her male voice, talking only when necessary while in boy mode.

The deciding factor in becoming silent had occurred shortly before the disease hit the town. Richard had been out walking, and encountered an old woman. She had dropped her basket of vegetables and was struggling to pick them up. Richard had stopped and offered to help her.

The woman immediately thanked him for the offer, but in doing so, she had assumed that it was a young girl talking to her. Due to deteriorating eyesight, it wasn’t until the woman looked closely at the person before her, that she realised she had apparently made a mistake.

Richard had not taken offence at the error, but it did bring to the child’s attention something that had been suspected for a while. Her voice and speech patterns were now feminine, even when attempting to sound like a boy. She knew that with her injuries, her voice was never going to break and would always remain higher in pitch.

Since the death of her parents and friends, she was forced to present full time as a boy. She was genuinely unable to speak for the first few days after being discovered, due to the weakness from the jungle fever. The child believed that the only reason she was able to survive was due to the exceptional level of fitness she had maintained since fighting her way back to health after the accident that had forced her to turn from a boy into a girl.

Now alone in the garden she could practice something she had been unable to do for so long, using her voice. Starting softly at first, scared that she may be overheard, she started to whisper to the plants and animals in the garden. Gradually as the days passed, she was able to increase the volume and length of her speech. Deciding she’d best not risk talking too loudly in case the gardeners walked by outside, the child, dressed as a boy, went on long walks into the surrounding woodland, so that she could exercise her voice more. After nearly a fortnight, she was finally able to sing again at a volume others would consider normal.

---

 

Richard had finished his breakfast, or at least as much as he wanted to eat. The child was once again portraying herself as a boy while Martha cleared the ashes from the fire and made the bed as the girl ate. The kitchen always sent more food than needed. Going to the window, the youngster looked out over the gardens to judge the state of the weather.

On the days when rain would come and prevent going outside, the child, dressed as a boy, would descend the stairs to the large well-stocked library and spend time reading. It was cloudy and looked like it may rain. Having finished reading a book in bed last night, the youngster decided to return it to the library and swap it for another.

Richard had made it to the bottom of the stairs and along the first floor corridor to the main staircase before realising that the pocket watch had been forgotten and left upstairs by the bed. Turning back, the child returned to the bedroom.

The girl noticed that the remaining slice of toast had vanished in the time she had walked down the flight of stairs and back. Looking round, she could see nothing out of place, but she knew that something or someone must have been into the room in the short time that she was absent.

The plate was still where she left it, so it wouldn’t have been Martha or any of the other servants, as they would have taken the breakfast dishes away. Often, if they were busy, they didn’t bother to come and take the breakfast tray down until mid-morning.

Curious, the child decided to investigate the matter over the next few days. Each morning, one piece of toast was left behind, on leaving the room. Stationed at the bottom of the stairs, Richard could watch the staff go by. Sitting out of the way, but within watching distance, she got out her paper and pencils and started to copy one of the paintings on the wall opposite.

The youngster only had to wait about a quarter of an hour before Martha went upstairs and returned a few minutes later carrying an empty plate. Martha herself could have eaten the toast, but she suspected somebody else was up there. It would possibly explain the ghost stories.

The same schedule was repeated for the next few days. In each case, the child found a location somewhere in view of the stairs so that the empty plates could be observed returning, and didn’t go back to the room until the afternoon.

Figuring if the routine suddenly changed, then the person would be caught out, the child decided to make a change the following day. After eating breakfast and leaving one slice of toast, Richard left the room and went straight down to the library. Picking up a reading book, the girl, once again in manly clothing, then immediately returned to her room. She crept up the stairs as quietly as she could and slowly opened the door to her room. As she did so, she heard a scurrying of feet from inside.

Poking her head in the door she couldn’t immediately see any difference in the room, but entered anyway, closing the door firmly and loudly behind her. Walking across the floor, she got on the settee and lay down. She started to read her book, deliberately ignoring whoever may be hiding. While pretending to look at the book she carefully observed the room for changes, trying to see if anything was out of place.

The measure of a good artist is the ability to observe, and the child was a keen observer. Looking round the room, she soon spotted the toes below the curtain covering the alcove that acted as a store for the firewood, the fabric ending a few inches from the ground. There would be enough room for a person to stand. The feet were smaller than hers, so she suspected there must be a younger child hiding in her room.

Footsteps could be heard approaching the door, and soon Martha entered to retrieve the breakfast dishes.

“Oh, I didn’t expect to find you still in here,” Martha said on seeing Richard, “I thought you would be outside on a day like this.”

The girl shook her head and pointed at the book she was reading.

“You’re going to read instead?” Martha asked, to which the child nodded.

Martha picked up the empty breakfast dishes and left the room, oblivious to the feet under the curtain. At least if she did notice them, then she didn’t say anything.

The child spent the next few hours watching the toes. At one point, she put down her book, picked up her sketchpad, and sat drawing the toes. They were remaining very still, with only the slightest movement every now and then.

Becoming thirsty, the girl reached over, picked up the jug of water from the table, and poured a glass of water. As she did so, she thought she heard a sharp intake of breath. Looking at the hiding place, the child noted that there was now only one foot below the curtain, and the toes were now curled into a ball. Whoever was hiding behind the drape seemed to be in some discomfort.

Realising that the person had reacted to the sound of the water, the girl recognised the most likely cause of the problem. While intriguing to wait and see what would happen, she didn’t fancy risking a puddle being left on her floor. She walked through to the bedroom and reached under the bed for the chamber pot.

The toes were still visible as she returned and walked over to the alcove, bent down, lifted the bottom of the curtain by about a foot, and slid the porcelain bowl under the drape until it was only a few inches from the toes. Letting the fabric fall back into position she walked over and sat on the settee.

The bowl moved further backwards and the feet moved so that they stood either side of it. Instead of being flat to the ground the heels were now raised, indicating the person was now crouching over the pot. Only the tips of the feet, and the bottom half of the pot were visible to the child.

A few seconds later, the sound of liquid could be heard splashing into the bowl, accompanied by a huge sigh of relief. Whoever it was must have really needed to go, as the sound lasted for a surprising length of time.

Everything went quiet for a few minutes. It was obvious to the person hiding that they had been discovered, and not being able to wait any longer had used the offered vessel. Slowly the curtain was pulled back to reveal a small girl, a few inches shorter than the former boy, standing over the now rather full pot.

---

 

The young girl crept out from behind the curtain, carrying the chamber pot. She had dirty-blonde hair and was clothed in a white cotton dress that had seen better days. The child looked unwashed, and the clothes were torn and marked from constant wear. The dress came down to just below the girl’s knees. Beneath the dress, her legs were bare and shoeless.

Slowly and carefully, the smaller child carried the vessel into the bathroom and emptied it. Returning to the doorway, she came to a halt and nervously stood looking at the apparent boy sitting on the settee in front of her.

The larger child beckoned to the smaller girl and patted the seat, indicating that she should come and sit beside her. Cautiously, the lass came across the room and sat down.

“Thank you, I have needed to go since before breakfast. I was waiting for you to leave, but you didn’t. I guess you knew I was there the whole time,” the girl said, to which the other nodded.

“Please don’t tell anybody that I’m here. If I’m found, I will be locked up and sent away. I don’t think I would survive the workhouse,” the younger girl sobbed. Putting her arm round the girl, the larger child comforted her companion, kissing her lightly on the forehead. The smaller child felt extremely thin and frail to the former boy.

The elder girl picked up her sketchpad and pencil, showing the visitor the picture of her feet under the curtain, and then wrote a message beneath the drawing.

“Sorry, I can’t read,” stated the stranger, “You can’t speak, can you? I overheard some of the staff talking about you.”

The child hesitated, unsure how to answer. The guest continued, “My name is Hattie. My brother used to be a butler here, but he was caught stealing and sent away, deported, leaving me behind. He was hiding me here in the attics and bringing me provisions. Our parents are dead. Since he’s gone, I have been all alone, sneaking about and stealing supplies where I can. Martha leaves food lying about every now and then. She has seen me, but she was only semi-conscious at the time, so I don’t know if she remembers who I am. I’m scared she might turn me in.”

The sound of approaching footsteps distracted the two children. Hattie quickly dashed behind the curtain again, while the other child went to the door, opening it. Martha was coming along the hall with Richard’s lunch. The child deliberately stood in her doorway, blocking the path of the servant.

“Richard, I’ve brought you some lunch, soup and rolls. I will come back with some treacle tart later,” Martha stated, “well, don’t just stand there in the way.”

Standing back from the door, she let the servant bring the tray into the room and set it down on the table. Not wanting the woman to hang around the child stood and held the door open for her, beckoning her to leave. Seeing that the apparent boy was not going to sit down until she left, Martha curtseyed and departed.

After Martha had gone, and was heard to descend the stairs, the child sighed and pulled the curtain open to reveal the scared girl.

“Thank you for not revealing me to Martha. You could have gotten rid of me. Thank you,” Hattie said. “Please, I will do anything you want. Will you keep me secret?”

“Yes, if you will keep the fact I can speak secret,” the reply came in a soft, barely audible voice.

“You can talk!” Hattie whispered back, surprised.

Nodding, the larger child replied, “Yes, but I choose not to. I assume I can trust you not to reveal that to anybody.”

“I promise, your secret is safe with me,” Hattie confirmed. “But why have you remained silent?”

“You look starving, you can have my soup while I explain,” the other child stated, picking up and eating a slice of bread.

The young girl didn’t need any further encouragement, sat down at the table, and started to eat the broth.

“Richard, the person I used to be, died two years ago when the carriage he was in overturned. I was badly injured, so much so that I will never be able to become a father. What is more, I am never going to become a man, not properly,” the child explained. “When I learned of my injuries I had a long discussion with my mother. Most of my male parts were so badly damaged that they had to be removed, leaving me disfigured. My mother found an Indian surgeon, who was able to tidy up the appearance and turn me into a close approximation of a girl. I can never have children, and have to have certain herbs in order to mature, but I can live a fuller life that way than being stuck as a boy who can never grow up.”

Taking and eating the other slice of bread, she continued to say, “My mother was training me to be a lady. The plan was to disappear and reappear as her niece, but we all got sick and she died. Changing one’s sex simply isn’t done. Many people consider it a sin and if they were to find out, then I could be in serious danger, so it has to remain secret. When I am older, I plan to disappear and reappear as a young lady. I don’t talk, as I don’t exist. Richard is a façade I put up to hide the real me. My name is Rosie.”

Finishing the soup, Hattie turned and looked closely at the person in front of her, “You sound like a girl. Your hair is slightly short, but I think in the right clothes you wouldn’t be mistaken for a boy. I don’t care what you are as long as you’ll be my friend, Rosie.”

Hattie went back into hiding while Martha brought dessert. Once the servant had gone, Rosie split the treacle tart into two portions, giving two thirds to the starving girl.

“We have both been living alone for too long and need companionship,” Rosie declared. “Would you like to live here with me? We would have to be careful, but the staff leave me alone most of the time. I have my own private garden that we can use during the day where we can talk quietly without fear of being overheard.”

“Yes, I would love too,” Hattie replied, “but I would have to be careful not to get caught. If they find me they will send me to the workhouse.”

“Rubbish, why would they do that?” Rosie asked. “You are my guest.”

“I’m penniless and have to steal to survive. I will be lucky not to be arrested,” Hattie answered.

“Not anymore, I can employ you as my personal assistant. I can pay you half of my weekly allowance,” Rosie stated.

The young girl seemed to be saddened by this, “If you are my employer, then we can’t truly be friends. It is not proper to form relationships with your servants.”

“How about we say that you are in the employment of Richard, but you live and become friends with Rosie?” the larger child reasoned.

“Thank you, that sounds brilliant”, the younger child said as she wrapped her new friend in a hug.

“No offence, but you need a bath,” Rosie stated. “Also, those rags can go in the bin. We will find you something better to wear. I only have a few dresses and not much opportunity to clean them. How do you feel about wearing trousers?”

“I’ve never worn trousers before but I’m willing to wear anything. It’s better than running round naked. I did that for a while last summer when it was hot, but found it weird.”

“Do I take it you’re not bashful? Would you be willing to join me in the bath this evening before bed?” Rosie asked.

The other girl thought about it before agreeing to do so. Hattie was shy about stripping in front of the other person, but was curious as to find out how much of a girl or boy her friend really was. Rosie had told her that she was a boy, but had been changed into a girl, and Hattie wondered what that actually meant.

The two girls spent the afternoon exploring the roof space of the building. Hattie showed Rosie all the places she hid and lived in the months since coming to the manor.

---

 

That evening, the two children shared the meal sent up from the kitchen. Hattie waited patiently in an empty room along the corridor until called by Rosie when the coast was clear. After eating, she returned to the empty room to wait the collection of the dishes.

When Martha came to fetch the tray, there was a note waiting for her in the child’s elegant handwriting:

I’m tired. I will have a bath and head to bed. I do not wish to be disturbed again this evening.
R.H.

After confirming her instructions, Martha left with the tray and descended the stairs.

Rosie walked along the corridor and tapped on the door where the other girl was hiding. Hattie emerged and they returned to the warmth of Rosie’s rooms.

Going into the bathroom, the elder girl ran water into the bath, checking the temperature was suitable. Hattie stood shyly in the doorway, fiddling with the hem of her tatty dress, not sure what to do.

Rosie was also shy and nervous. This would be the first time she would undress with somebody other than her mother, personal servant, or doctor, in the room. Shutting the water off, she decided to take the lead. The sound of running water having made her want to empty her bladder, she dropped her trousers and sat on the toilet.

Hattie watched from the doorway before stepping fully into the room and closing the door. The sun was setting and the room had been lit by candles giving a soft warm glow, the semi-darkness giving some modesty to the two children.

Rosie unbuttoned her shirt as she relieved herself. Hattie came across the room and stood in front of the other girl, taking her clothes from her as she sat, and folding them neatly. When finished, Rosie got to her feet and softly asked, “Do you need to go before I flush? That way anybody in earshot will only hear it once.”

Rosie stood in embarrassment, but fought the urge to cover herself, letting Hattie see her naked form.

“You look exactly like I do,” Hattie said softly, letting her dress fall to the floor, “nothing like how my brother appeared without his clothes.”

Standing to one side, Rosie let the other girl use the toilet while she climbed into the bathtub. She was joined a short while later by Hattie. The two children proceeded to wash, massaging each other as they lathered the soap into every inch of their bodies. Both discovered the newfound intimacy between them relaxing and enjoyable, as they caressed each other.

Both girls, freshly cleansed, emerged from the tub, emptying the now cooling water down the drain. Hattie picked her discarded dress up between her thumb and index finger, holding the disgusting item as far from her clean, towel-wrapped body as possible, wondering what to do with it.

“Burn it,” Rosie instructed, “you can wear my things until we can buy you new.”

Nodding, Hattie took the garment through to the middle room and shoved it on the fire. Both girls watched the flames consume the dress, destroying any evidence of its existence, before extinguishing the lamps and retiring to the bedroom.

Discarding their towels, the two naked children slipped between the sheets, cuddling each other as they slowly drifted off to sleep. Both girls found the close proximity of the other a welcome change from their lonely former lives. They slept soundly, the nightmares that Rosie previously experienced seemingly cured by the presence of her companion.

The alarm woke the girls up at seven. With only half an hour before Richard’s breakfast would arrive, they reluctantly climbed out and made the bed. Rosie showed her dresses to Hattie, but they left them in their hiding place and both dressed in the more abundant boy clothing. Despite their masculine garments, both children still looked exceedingly feminine in their appearance. Hattie’s hair hadn’t been cut since she had arrived a year before, and was now halfway down her back. Rosie’s hair was not as long, but as Richard, she had successfully refused all attempts to get it cut, and it was now reaching her shoulders.

Once dressed, Hattie sneaked down the corridor into the next room, while Martha came with the breakfast. Once Martha left, Rosie called Hattie back into the room so that they could eat. The kitchen staff were always generous with the portions. Hattie had been taking food from Richard’s breakfast dishes for weeks, therefore it always appeared that he ate all they sent him, even though often he had left some behind.

After breakfast, the two children slipped out to the garden. Hattie hadn’t dared go outside for months, afraid that she would be spotted, or not be able to get back in again.

The part of the house in which Richard had been given accommodation was deserted most of the time. The floors below, containing bedrooms and function rooms, were only used when entertaining guests. This allowed the children to exit out of a side door away from the eyes of the staff, most of whom worked on the other side of the building.

The main risk came from the gardeners. There were many groundsmen tending to the large estate. Using Rosie’s knowledge and experience of the layout, the two children were able to navigate unseen to the door of the secret garden.

Hattie had hidden her long blonde hair under a hat, so from a distance she would look a lot like Richard. They took it in turns to cross open spaces, using the principle that if either of them were spotted from a distance, anybody seeing them would assume that they were looking at the young Master Headley.

Pulling the ivy out of the way, the two girls slipped through the door, closing it behind them, and walked down the foliage-covered path to the summerhouse.

Hattie immediately fell in love with the private space between the walls, just as her companion had done. Both girls then proceeded to tend the garden, weeding the flagstones and sweeping the leaves. Both agreed it was easier to work in trousers than dresses, and they set to their task to make the garden at least presentable.

Hattie needed a haircut, so Rosie offered to style her hair for her mid-afternoon, trimming the split ends from the girl’s locks and discarding the hair in the garden where it couldn’t be discovered.

They spent all day in the garden before returning to the house. Rosie was an expert at moving stealthily around outside, and Hattie at sneaking about inside. Between the two of them, they could come and go as they pleased, each learning from each other the best routes for remaining unseen.

It took the girls several days to clear away the weeds and tidy the garden. They found the summerhouse to be sound, although neglected. They swept out all the debris and managed to make it inhabitable.

Having gotten the garden into a state where it could be kept tidy, the girls relaxed and started to enjoy themselves. Rosie decided that Hattie should learn how to read and write. Given that Mr Hobbs had said that he would be happy to have Richard as a teacher, Rosie decided to take up that vocation with Hattie as her pupil.

A search of the library had found some books aimed at young children. Each afternoon would find the girls sitting in the summerhouse with Hattie attempting to read to Rosie. Hattie was a quick learner, and with the encouragement of her companion, was able to master the alphabet in a week.

Sunday morning required a change in routine for the two girls. Richard needed once again to attend church with his uncle. This wasn’t something Rosie enjoyed, but was deemed necessary. While she enjoyed listening to the bible passages, she didn’t like crowds, and sitting at the front of the church in view of the entire village made her uneasy.

The more people who got to know what she looked like as a boy added to the risk of appearing as a girl.

Rosie also wanted to go clothes shopping at some point. Most of her collection was unable to be brought from India, as she was unable to explain why Richard would have feminine clothing. It was lucky that she was planning a trip away with her mother and that the secret compartment in the travelling trunk was already packed, otherwise she would have nothing but boy clothes with her.

Hattie always enjoyed Sunday mornings, being the only time during the week in which the house was empty. All the staff attended the church, leaving the building clear for her to explore. It was during these occasions that she normally stocked up with food supplies for the week. Now that she was living with Rosie, she didn’t have to worry as much about where her next meal would come from.

This morning, Hattie decided to do something that she hadn’t done in many months. She would also be attending church. Borrowing a dress from Rosie, she waited for the family and staff to leave before opening a window and slipping out. She ran to the church, arriving as the first hymn was being sung. Creeping into the back, she took up station at the rear.

Once the church service was over, Hattie was quick to sneak out before any of the villagers could ask who she was. Being a small and close-knit community meant that outsiders would soon be recognised. Hattie made her way to the secret garden in order to wait for Rosie.

Richard was once again surrounded by staff members at the end of the service so that he could remain out of the crowd. He did smile at the sight of his friend sneaking out of the door.

After changing out of her Sunday best, Rosie walked down to the secret garden to meet with Hattie, who was sitting practicing her handwriting.

---

 

Gwen brought the breakfast tray up to Richard’s room. After knocking on the door, she nervously entered. Rosie was sitting fully dressed in her trousers, silk shirt, and jacket, in front of the fireplace reading yesterday’s copy of The Times. The apparent boy smiled at the servant as she put the tray down on the desk.

“I’m bringing you breakfast today, Martha is away on leave. Your cousins, Horatio and Albert, arrived last night from university. They will be staying here for a few weeks, before returning to their courses,” Gwen explained. “They will be joining their father in a clay pigeon shoot. I have been asked to invite you, would you like to attend?”

Gwen watched the child think about it for a minute. After some consideration, Rosie shook her head indicating she didn’t want to take part. Instead, she picked up and waved her sketchbook at Gwen.

“You’ll be spending the day out drawing again? Would you like a picnic basket made up?” Gwen enquired, and the child nodded. “I will ask cook to make one up, you can collect it on your way out.”

Rosie wandered over to the desk and sat to eat her breakfast. Gwen curtseyed and crossed the room to depart. This part of the house made her nervous and she was convinced that it was haunted. Thinking that perhaps she was being stupid, she made her way to the door. As she started to leave the room, ghostly sounds could be heard echoing through the attic.

Looking round, Gwen saw that Richard seemed to be oblivious to the ethereal cacophony, and was daintily eating breakfast. Scared by the strange noises, Gwen hurried out of the room and down the stairs in fright.

The sounds of whistling and rattling chains were replaced with giggling as Hattie emerged from her hiding place.

“One of these days, you’re going to get caught,” Rosie stated to her friend as she sat down to share the breakfast provided.

“Terrifying the servants was the only fun I got. Old habits die hard. Besides, the less they want to come up here the better,” replied Hattie, taking a mouthful of sausage from the plate.

The two children finished breakfast, and after checking the coast was clear, descended the stairs to the ground floor. Hattie hid herself while Rosie proceeded to the kitchen to pick up their lunch. Both children were dressed in nearly-identical boy clothes. This way, if anybody spotted Hattie from a distance, they would assume that she was Richard. To add to the effect, Hattie was wearing a cap with her long hair hidden from view.

Richard entered the kitchen, knocking on the doorframe to gain the attention of the cook. The large round woman was chopping potatoes when she spotted the child standing in the doorway. Stopping what she was doing, she pointed at the basket sitting on the counter. Rosie nodded and proceeded to pick up the hamper, bowing to the cook in thanks before leaving the way she came.

Returning to where Hattie was waiting, the two proceeded to the side entrance, away from prying eyes, and emerged into the garden, carefully looking around. As the two of them sneaked round the side of the building, they heard a shout from behind them, “Stop, drop the loot and put your hands up.”

The two children came to a halt and turned to face an older youth pointing a shotgun in their direction. Rosie carefully placed the hamper down and let her satchel of art materials slide off her arm to the ground. Hattie dropped the blanket and reading books she had been carrying. They then slowly raised their hands above their heads and stood nervously for further instruction.

A second youth, slightly younger than the first, also appeared and said, “Looks like we have caught ourselves a couple of tea leaves.”

The older of the boys instructed them to march round the front of the house, the second picking up the dropped items. Following the instructions of the two young men, the two children walked round to the front of the building and in through the main entrance.

Standing in the hall at the foot of the staircase were Lord Headley, Mr Hobbs, Parker the butler, and several other guests. A number of them were carrying firearms and they were gathered ready to go to the shooting range for a day’s relaxation.

Startled by the children being marched in at gunpoint, Lord Headley responded in surprise, “What the hell is going on here?”

“We caught these two thieves sneaking out the side door,” the young man with the gun stated as he lowered it to point at the ground for safety, confident that his prey wasn’t about to run away, the other boy throwing the items the children were carrying to the ground at their feet.

Samuel Headley looked at the four people standing in front of him. The younger two were facing him, their arms still in the air with their backs to the elder boys. He easily recognised his nephew, who was smirking, trying not to laugh at his captors. The boy had visibly relaxed since coming into the room, obviously realising that any chance of being shot was now over. The other boy with Richard, whom he didn’t recognise, still seemed nervous about the situation.

“You can drop your hands now, lads,” Samuel said, “I do apologise for my idiot offspring.”

The smiles on the elder pair’s faces suddenly disappeared at their father’s statement. The two children dropped their hands to their sides and moved to the edge of the room so that they could face their captors and the elder men, forming a triangle between them.

“The idiot with the gun is my eldest son Horatio, and his companion is his brother Albert,” Lord Headley declared before turning to his sons and saying, “as for you two, you should try using the brain cells you are supposed to possess. The young man on the left is your cousin, Richard, and don’t say that you didn’t know he was staying here, I know for a fact you were told, no doubt you weren’t paying attention as usual.”

As the realisation dawned on Albert and Horatio, they slumped slightly in posture, recognising that they had made a complete mess of the situation as per normal.

“I don’t believe we have been formally introduced young man,” Lord Headley stated, holding his hand out to the boy partially hiding behind Richard. The child took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“My name is Hattie, Sir,” the young girl said as she removed her cap and let her long hair fall down round her shoulders, to the surprise of everyone present who had assumed she was a boy. She bowed slightly, and then looked down at the floor, nervously fidgeting with her feet. Richard stepped forward and put his arm round his friend, who immediately seemed to relax at the embrace. Richard locked eye contact with his uncle and a determined look came to his face as his eyes narrowed on the elder man.

“It’s a girl,” Albert said in surprise, “why are you dressed as a boy and what are you doing sneaking round the gardens?”

Hattie, finding confidence from her friend’s support turned and faced Albert and replied, “The garden staff are used to seeing Richard walking the grounds and have instructions to leave him alone. By making myself look like him, I can come and go as I please without being challenged. Besides, I actually like wearing trousers. They are more practical for hiking round the countryside than a long dress.”

“There is no need to sneak about. Richard, if you want to invite friends to the house then that isn’t a problem,” Lord Headley proclaimed as he picked up the discarded picnic basket and examined it. Handing it to the butler he added, “It appears the plate may have been broken, and this has been prepared for one, not two. Please take it to the kitchen and have it fixed.”

Turning to his sons, he told them, “You two can start by apologising to Richard and Hattie for scaring them, then you can go down to the kitchen and apologise for destroying the contents of the basket by throwing it around.”

The elder boys humbly offered their apologies to the children before scurrying off in the direction of the kitchens.

“I assume you will be spending the day in the gardens, I will have somebody send a hamper out to you. Do you know whereabouts you will likely be?” Lord Headley asked.

“We will be near the statue of the small boy with the bow and arrow in the walled garden with the white trees.” Hattie replied, describing the enclosure next to the secret garden.

“The statue is of Cupid, and the trees are silver birch,” Samuel responded, “a very nice place to sit, you will be sheltered from the wind and have plenty of space to relax and read.”

Picking up the books and blanket, the two children left the house and made their way to the garden.

“That was close,” Rosie stated once out of earshot. “I guessed those two must be my cousins, but I wasn’t sure what they might do. If I started talking, and they had been told I was mute, then that would’ve made things worse.”

“What are we going to do now that I’ve been discovered?” Hattie asked worriedly.

“Get bigger lunch hampers?” Rosie replied shrugging her shoulders. “They now know you visit during the day, but not how often. They don’t know you live here.”

---

 

Mr Hobbs strolled through the garden carrying the lunch basket that had come back from the kitchen. The damaged items had been removed and replaced, and additional food packed for the guest.

The young girl intrigued him. As the headmaster of the local school, he knew all the youngsters in the surrounding area. He prided himself on knowing all his pupils by name, and even if he only ever addressed them by their surnames, he knew their first names as well. The girl had only given her name as Hattie. The only child he knew by that name had short brown hair and spoke with a lisp.

This person was unknown to him, something that he found most odd. Therefore, he had volunteered to take the food to the children in order to find out more about the mystery girl.

Being as silent as possible, he slowly poked his head round the door of the walled garden where the children would most likely be. As he approached, he could hear Hattie speaking slowly, struggling to pronounce her words. The teacher immediately recognised the speech pattern of a child struggling to read aloud.

As he entered the garden, he spotted the two children and came to a halt. They hadn’t noticed his presence so he stood and watched them. Richard was sitting against a tree. Hattie sat leaning against him and was holding up a book, struggling to read it out. Richard was looking over her shoulder and appeared to be whispering corrections into her ear.

Mr Hobbs smiled as he realised that Richard might be recovering the power of speech. If Hattie can’t read, and she is struggling with the most basic of language, then he can’t write her notes.

Slowly and quietly, Mr Hobbs strolled over to where the two children were sitting. On seeing him approach, the two children stopped what they were doing and became silent.

“What are you reading?” the man asked as he sat down beside them.

“‘Plain Tales from the Hills’ by Rudyard Kipling,” Hattie replied, “It’s not very easy to read, but it’s one of Richard’s favourite books as it’s set in India.”

“I’m not familiar with the author,” Mr Hobbs declared, “I guess he must be a newcomer. You seem to be struggling, I take it you haven’t had much schooling?”

Shaking her head the girl answered, “My mother started to teach me the basics before she died, but she could hardly read or write herself. When she passed, it was up to my brother to support us. In order to survive we had to live off the land. My brother refused to put us in the workhouse. We spent several years travelling the country doing what work we could. We could never stay in one place for very long, as he would always get into trouble.”

Realising she was saying more than was wise, Hattie stopped talking and refused to say anything further. A tear ran down her face as she thought of the loss of her mother, and the years spent with her brother. Rosie wrapped her arms round her friend and hugged her from behind.

The headmaster looked at the young girl. She was not somebody he had met before, and it sounded like her brother was less than honest. The Headley brothers had accused her of being a thief, their allegation may be more accurate than they realised.

Mr Hobbs looked at the boy sitting in front of him and he saw the determined look on his face. Richard was remaining silent as usual, but his eyes were fixed in a stare on the older man.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” the teacher stated before getting to his feet, “enjoy your lunch. I must get back to the shoot.”

“I think I said too much,” Hattie sobbed after Mr Hobbs had gone. “Rosie, I’m scared. It won’t take them long to realise I don’t belong here, and when they do, they are going to lock me up and throw away the key.”

“Nonsense, I won’t let that happen,” Rosie replied.

“I know you will try to protect me, but that could land you in trouble as well,” Hattie worried.

“If it does, we will leave. I always planned on disappearing and reappearing as a woman. I could have done it back in India, but I’m still too young to be able to live alone effectively,” Rosie said. “Come, let us go into our garden where we won’t be disturbed again.”

The two children picked up their belongings, including the newly delivered picnic basket, and made their way into their private garden, away from prying eyes. They spent most of the day gardening, the act of bringing beauty to the wilderness being therapeutic to both of them.

Figuring that Richard’s presence would be requested at dinner, they made their way back to the house making extra sure that they weren’t seen this time. Once back in the safety of their room, the children relaxed in the fireside chairs.

They were disturbed by the sound of footsteps coming towards the room. Hattie quickly dashed into the bedroom, closing the door behind her as a knock came on the door. Rosie, seeing her friend was safely out of sight, walked over to the door and opened it.

“May I come in?” Samuel Headley asked his nephew, who nodded and beckoned the older man into the room. He was followed by a nervous Gwen, who placed tea for two on the small table before curtseying and leaving as swiftly as she could.

“I take it Hattie has gone home?” he asked the child, who nodded once again. Both sat down in front of the fireplace. Samuel poured the tea for the two of them.

“I meant what I said earlier. I am not going to dictate whom you have as friends. However, I’m concerned about who this girl is, and where she comes from. She isn’t a local villager, and from what she told our friend earlier it sounds like she may have a shady past,” Samuel stated calmly. “I can only imagine how lonely you are, but I want you to be careful. She may be using you to gain access to your wealth.”

Picking up the small chalkboard kept for leaving instructions for the staff, Rosie wrote, “Hattie has confessed everything. I trust her implicitly. I know exactly who she is.”

“I hope you’re right and my concerns are unfounded. However, there have been a number of thefts round the estate,” Lord Headley stated. “Mrs Medlock keeps stocks of everything we buy and use, and they rarely balance. Now I’m not going to fuss if the odd bread roll or sausage goes astray, but we have had silverware and money go missing in the past. I like to give people the benefit of doubt, but I have previously employed staff in good faith only to have them turn out to be crooks.”

Richard simply nodded. Hattie had already told him about her brother. The two family members sat drinking their beverages. Samuel invited Richard to dinner, as expected, before leaving the child alone in his room.

After checking the teapot and finding enough tea to refill one of the cups, Rosie poured the remaining liquid into a cup and took it into the bedroom where Hattie was hiding. Handing the drink to the girl, Rosie started to strip her clothes and dress for dinner. Putting her best suit on and combing her hair while the other girl watched, she prepared herself for the evening with her family. Kissing Hattie on the cheek, Rosie left the apartment and descended the stairs towards the dining room.

---

 

Entering the dining room, Rosie found her cousins and uncle waiting for her. Once everybody was seated, the staff served the meal.

Lord Headley began engaging his sons in conversation, enquiring about their achievements at university. Both boys liked to boast, and they soon started to try to outdo each other to demonstrate their superior knowledge. Their younger cousin found this to be most amusing, especially when they started to talk in Latin, but exceedingly badly.

Richard had acted as the company translator due to being fluent in the local dialects. His tutor had also taught him Latin and French. With his natural aptitude for languages, Richard had no problem absorbing the additional tongues.

As the pomposity of the boys increased, and their standard of Latin got worse, the youngest member of the family couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“What are you laughing at?” Albert asked sharply.

Richard quickly jotted something down on his board and held it aloft, still giggling, “Singularis: singular/alone/unique. Singultus: sobbing/gasping.”

“What does a wog know about Latin?” Horatio snidely replied.

“Horatio, how dare you address your cousin in such a fashion?” Lord Headley shouted.

“Oh, come on. We all know the little bastard’s mother was a dot-head,” Horatio countered in anger.

Before Samuel could respond to his son’s remarks, a loud crash distracted their attention. The chair that Rosie was sat on was now laying on the floor, the child having sprung to her feet. She was now stood with fists clenched, audibly snarling at the older boys.

“It would appear our petite Punjab has a peck of poke about him,” Horatio said in amusement. “Perhaps I should put you in your place. You’re looking at one of Oxford’s finest boxers.”

Rosie walked round the table and stood a few feet from her two cousins. Taking up a defensive Kalarippayattu stance, she smiled and beckoned her cousins to her.

“That is enough, both of you,” Lord Headley stated angrily. “Albert, Horatio, leave the boy alone. Richard, please return to your seat.”

“No,” Horatio replied getting to his feet. “If the wog wants a whipping, then I’ll quite happily give him one. Perhaps then he will realise who his superiors are.”

“Are you sure that is a good idea?” Albert asked. “He doesn’t look worried and I doubt he’ll know or follow Marquis of Queensberry rules.”

Horatio was already moving towards the younger boy and ignored his younger brother’s caution, intent on beating his annoying cousin into a pulp. Richard’s reactions were lightning fast and precise. The onlookers couldn’t work out exactly how the child was able to manage it, but Horatio found himself flying over his cousin’s head, landing on his back in a heap on the floor. Returning to her original stance Rosie grinned and beckoned Albert to have a go.

In turning to face Albert, Rosie had put her back towards Horatio, who although winded, was not defeated. Determined not to be shown-up or beaten by the younger child, the now angry Horatio sprang to his feet and lunged at his cousin, intending to wrestle her to the ground. Although Rosie had her back to her opponent, she was still conscious of the sounds of movement behind her, and using the reflection in the silverware on the table, she could see her cousin approach.

The child sprang sideways, dodging the arms of her cousin. Spinning and ricocheting off the wall to gain height, Rosie jumped and kicked her opponent as he passed, her foot connecting between Horatio’s shoulder blades sending him crashing into Albert. Both of the elder boys collapsed on the floor as Rosie gracefully landed and returned to her fighting stance.

Rosie, although putting on a show of confidence, had initially been worried about taking on the larger boys. She had learnt the techniques in order to recover from her original accident. The meditational aspects helped to centre her focus, and the physical disciplines aided her fitness. Rosie had witnessed several boxing matches staged by the military personnel, so knew what to expect. However, she had yet to recover peak condition since the jungle fever outbreak, and was out of practice.

Most of the stances and movements she normally performed at relatively low speeds, more as a form of dance than combat. However, muscle memory allowed her to react instinctively and swiftly to defend herself from the attempted blows. Rosie had deliberately made her opponents make the first moves, as she specialised more in the defensive aspects of the discipline.

Having successfully defended against two onslaughts, Rosie had the measure of Horatio and was satisfied that she could defend against him. In truth, the girl was enjoying the sparring, not having the opportunity to practice moves against a skilled fighter since before leaving India. Her mother didn’t approve of her fighting, but accepted that such skills could come in handy, especially if becoming a member of the weaker sex.

“Stop this now!” Lord Headley bellowed at the top of his voice, banging his fist onto the table.

Rosie, not wanting to disobey her uncle, immediately turned and returned to her seat as her two cousins got back to their feet.

“Sit down!” Samuel yelled at his two sons, who on seeing their father’s rage decided they best not irritate him any further.

“I will have no more of this racist nonsense,” Lord Headley stated. “You want to know who is superior to whom? Well it seems obvious to me that Richard has just bested you in every sense, both academically and physically. Don’t push your luck any further. I will gladly let him pummel your pompous posteriors if that is what it takes for you to see sense. He is family, whether you like it or not, and we stick by them through fair and foul.”

“Oh I can see clearly, Father. It is obvious you prefer your perfect pet Punjab to your own sons,” Horatio venomously intoned. “Go ahead and pamper Uncle Fredrick’s little bastard. You didn’t pay any attention to your brother or his son until you happened to inherit a profitable tea plantation. Trouble is you have to hold it in trust, so you have to pretend to like the boy so that he doesn’t pull the plug on your profit.”

“That isn’t true. Your grandfather did his best to isolate Fred, and while we were never as close as I would have liked, we did write to each other. Also, all the tea bought by this estate, and all the business ventures I’m involved in, are sourced from Fred’s company,” Lord Headley countered. “Furthermore, you would know all about illegitimate offspring, Horatio. I’m acquainted with your nocturnal activities with my staff. You are lucky Jenkins found Martha and managed to stop her from harming herself when she realised she was pregnant with your own little bastard. Thank god she survived the miscarriage.”

“Is that why they are no longer here? I had wondered where they were,” Albert enquired.

“Martha is staying with her sister while you’re here. Jenkins was caught stealing, but given his assistance in saving Martha’s life, I arranged for his deportation so he could start a new life rather than rot in jail or face the hangman’s noose,” Lord Headley declared.

“Well at least you won’t have to worry about Richard screwing the staff. I hear he’s a eunuch,” Horatio added. He then grabbed a large pastry from the dessert tray and headed out of the room, much to the annoyance of his father.

“That was the last straw,” Lord Headley affirmed. “Horatio is no longer welcome at this table or in this house. Parker, I believe we have a vacant cottage on the north side of the estate, see to it that my son is moved there as soon as possible. He can still use the gardens, but make it clear to him that any further trouble and he will be excluded from the grounds as well. If he is so keen on our tea plantation, perhaps he would like to work there, I am sure they could use an additional tea picker.”

The three remaining family members sat and ate in silence, neither of the younger members daring to speak for fear of enraging the elder man. The three had just stood to leave the room when an ear-piercing scream could be heard from the direction of the main staircase.

---

 

The ear-piercing shriek startled the three Headley family members. Rosie, Albert and Lord Samuel dashed out of the dining room into the hall at the foot of the main staircase, to see what had caused the commotion. Several staff members had also emerged to investigate the noise, including Mrs Medlock, Parker and Gwen.

Screaming drew everyone’s attention to the top of the stairs. The squealing came from Hattie, who was being dragged along the upstairs landing by her hair. The girl was wrapped in a towel, and was dripping wet. Her face and arms were bruised and she was being manhandled along by Horatio.

“Guess what I found sneaking about upstairs,” Horatio called out. “It appears the Punjab has a secret concubine. I bet he’s been hiding the whore in his room the whole time.”

“Unhand her, this instant!” The yell from an unfamiliar feminine-sounding voice caused everyone to look round, “If you hurt Hattie, I swear to god I will kill you!”

“So the mute can talk,” Horatio stated in response to Rosie’s shout, “Yet another lie from the wog. It may be part Headley, but you just can’t trust foreigners, especially Punjabis.”

Horatio then shoved Hattie towards the stairs, letting go of her hair. Losing her balance and toppling forwards, she fell and started to roll down the flight of steps, losing her towel in the process. Grabbing a baluster at the side of the staircase, Hattie was able to arrest her descent a third of the way down, before sustaining serious injury.

Rosie and Gwen dashed up the stairs. Seeing that Hattie was at least conscious and stationary, Rosie threw her jacket over the naked girl and continued up to the landing where Horatio had grabbed a sword from a suit of armour stood on the balcony. Rosie came to a halt in front of the elder boy, a foot away from the outstretched point of the weapon.

“Come any closer and I cut you to pieces,” Horatio threatened. “Who is she, and what is she doing here?”

“Her name is Hattie Jenkins. She is my friend and personal attendant,” Rosie replied loudly and confidently.

“Jenkins? Any relation to our thieving butler? Here to finish what he started?” Horatio shouted.

“Hattie’s his sister, who was kept hidden in the attics. Abandoned to fend for herself she has been hiding ever since. I found her and invited her to be my companion. I haven’t had any nightmares since sharing my bed. I don’t like sleeping alone,” Rosie confessed.

“Hiding and stealing food no doubt,” Horatio responded, swinging the sword towards Rosie, causing her to jump backwards along the balcony to avoid contact with the blade, “Harbouring a known criminal, not exactly honest behaviour.”

“Horatio, put the sword down. This is my house and I will decide who is welcome here,” Lord Headley bellowed from his position on the stairs, standing over where a sobbing Hattie was being comforted by Gwen.

Seeing Horatio momentarily divert his eyes in the direction of his father, Rosie took advantage of the distraction to disarm her opponent. Spinning and kicking the sword out of the way, Rosie spun round behind her opponent and landed a fist into Horatio’s kidneys, causing him to stagger to the side. Now in pain, but not completely disabled, Horatio swung the sword back at Rosie. The girl threw herself on the floor to avoid being hit by the sharp heavy blade, the weapon skimming over her body by only an inch.

Rosie had landed on her back in a controlled fashion, to avoid injury, and her legs where now either side of the young man’s ankles. In a swift scissor movement, she brought her feet together, kicking the legs out from under her adversary, causing him to stumble and fall face-first onto the floor.

Before Horatio or Rosie could get up, Albert jumped on top of his brother, pinning his elder sibling down. He was joined a second later by his father, who deliberately stood on the hand holding the sword, crushing the fingers under his shoe.

“Mrs Medlock, take the girl to my study and tend to her injuries. Albert, Parker, help me get my stupid offspring to his room,” Lord Headley instructed.

The Lord and the butler took one wrist each and lifted the injured youth off the ground, but not to his feet. By lifting and twisting Horatio’s arms, the adolescent was left dangling, his shoulders being carried at waist height. He tried to gain purchase with his feet to stand, but the elder men deliberately started dragging him along in a most uncomfortable position. Albert led the way, opening the doors towards the young man’s quarters.

Seeing that Lord Headley had his son firmly under control with the assistance of the two men, Rosie descended the stairs to where Hattie was now sitting up, wrapped in the jacket and partially covered by the towel, which had been picked up and wrapped round her.

“Sit still,” Rosie told Hattie, “I want to make sure nothing is broken before you try to get up.” Feeling the girl all over to check for injuries, she found none. “Go to the study as his lordship instructed, I will go to our room and fetch you something to wear and my massage lotions. I can help relieve some of the pain.”

Kissing the girl on the forehead, Rosie stood and dashed towards their apartment. She first retrieved her scented oils from the shelf on which she had placed them. Part of Rosie’s martial arts training included the use of massage as a healing technique. Next, she picked up a dressing gown for Hattie to wrap round herself. Finally, she took a blanket and the pillows from the bed.

The concerned child then went back downstairs to the study, where Hattie was now sitting wrapped in the towel. Throwing the pillows in a line on the floor, she instructed Hattie to lie face down. Carefully positioning the blanket to cover her lower half, but leaving her shoulders and back bare, Rosie began to rub oil into Hattie’s skin and massage her muscles.

Gwen stayed in the room, having been told by Mrs Medlock to keep an eye on things. A few minutes later, Mrs Medlock returned. Seeing the girl laying on the floor being massaged, the woman momentarily stepped out of the room before returning once more.

“I have asked his lordship to wait outside, I am not sure of the appropriateness of so much of your flesh being on show,” the housekeeper stated.

“This is his study. I thank you for preserving my modesty, but I don’t mind him being here as long as Richard can continue with his work,” Hattie replied.

The housekeeper nodded and left the room, taking Gwen with her.

---

 

Samuel entered his study, slightly unsure of what to expect. Seeing the semi-naked young girl receiving a massage on the floor, he went over to his chair and sat down, turning himself so as to not look directly at the other two.

“I take it that is doing some good?” Lord Headley asked.

“It feels nice,” replied Hattie, the pleasure evident in her voice.

“I am applying light pressure to the skin to stimulate the lymphatic system. It will reduce the bruising and also helps relieve stress and tension,” Rosie explained. “In addition, the oil I’m using has a slight numbing effect.”

Although still dressed as Richard, Rosie was now talking in her soft feminine tone and her mannerisms had switched to the softer version as she cared for her injured companion.

“Horatio is safely locked in his room and will remain there until I decide what to do with him. I find his manhandling of young women most distasteful. A gentleman should never treat a girl in such a fashion. To drag someone by their hair and attempt to throw them down a flight of stairs is inexcusable,” Samuel stated. “Hattie, I got the gist of why you are here. I take it your brother brought you here and hid you?”

“He was worried that he wouldn’t get employed if my existence was known. Originally, I was going to live in the nearby woods, but when we found that the attics weren’t used I hid there. My brother brought me food. As per usual, his greed got the better of him and he took the money for the wages. I suspect he was on his way to fetch me and leave when he was caught,” Hattie explained. “Since then I have been living in the attics, frightened of what would happen if I was caught. Please don’t send me to the workhouse.”

“You said Martha saw you and was leaving you food?” Rosie asked. She knew that Hattie would deliberately omit that fact, not wanting to get Martha into trouble. “Did you have an involvement in saving her life?”

This got Samuel’s attention, and he looked at his nephew and his companion. Having finished working on her torso and arms, the child had moved the blanket to cover her back, exposing her legs. Rosie was now kneeling with one of Hattie’s legs in her lap, expertly running her hands along the girl’s lower limbs to stimulate circulation. Lord Headley had admitted intervening on behalf of Hattie’s brother because of his involvement in Martha’s rescue, and he could see Richard was trying to have the same consideration applied to his friend.

“I was in the disused staff quarters when I heard crying. Considering those rooms were supposedly empty, I went to investigate. I saw a light coming from one of the rooms. The door was open, so I carefully peeked round the frame and I saw Martha in a drunken stupor rapidly drinking a whole bottle of gin,” Hattie recalled while fighting to hold back tears. “She was only partially clothed and was holding a large pointed stick. She was lining it up to insert it into herself. I intervened, grabbing the stick and taking away the bottle. Martha was too drunk to put up a fight and started to vomit from the alcohol, almost choking in the process. I managed to get her in a safe position before fetching my brother, who raised the alarm.”

“Sir, before you decide what to do with us, there are some points I would like to address,” Rosie stated. “While it is true that Hattie stole food, she did so only in order to survive, and is willing to pay back her keep over time. I am employing her as my personal servant out of my allowance, so she has funds with which to repay you. I have invited her to live with me in my quarters, and will pay for her upkeep if necessary.”

“I’m not sure that it is appropriate for you two to share accommodation,” Lord Headley countered.

“Is it our different genders that cause your concern? If Hattie was a boy, or if I was your niece, would you have the same reservations?” Rosie asked. “May I remind you that I am neither a man nor a woman, but something in-between. My accident has left me without any equipment to procreate. Not only can I not physically perform that act, I haven’t gone through puberty in order to develop those desires.”

Lord Headley leaned back in his chair to ponder this revelation. Although he had been aware of the boy’s injuries, he hadn’t really thought through the ramifications of his condition.

“When the jungle fever hit our town, it left much of the population sick or dying. I was left for several days amongst the rotting corpses of my family, friends and servants, too weak to move. I have been suffering from frequent nightmares ever since. However, since having a companion to cuddle at night, I have slept soundly,” Rosie added, “I think the warmth of another living being, and the rhythmic sounds of their breathing close by, provides comfort that I’m not alone. Please, I beg you, don’t remove Hattie.”

Lord Headley noticed a tear run down his nephew’s cheek. Noticing the moisture, the child swiftly wiped the evidence away with a sleeve. The elder man could see that the youngster was trying to hold back the emotion from his voice. Getting up from his chair, the man walked to the window and stared out into the gardens. The sun was setting, bathing the trees in shades of yellow and orange.

“Hattie, I am going to ask you some questions and I want honest answers. Richard, please remain silent and don’t try to influence her in any way. I would ask you to leave, but I fear that may be counterproductive,” Lord Headley instructed. “Hattie, Richard has a great deal of influence over you. One of the responsibilities of superiority is to not pressure underlings into situations with which they are uncomfortable. Power corrupts, and I have already made the mistake of letting one of my sons abuse his status to force a member of staff to take part in certain activities.”

The words hung in the air, the discomfort evident in the man’s voice. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Hattie, what is your honest opinion of sharing a bed with Richard. If I gave you your own allowance and rooms so that you were equal in status, what would you do?”

“Nothing would change. We are already equal in status. The only difference would be we would have two beds to choose from to sleep in instead of one. You make it sound like sleeping together is a chore. In fact I find it just as comforting,” Hattie replied. “We have a lot in common. Both of us are orphans, and have issues with being left alone. Each of us gets comfort from sharing our bed. I’m not talking about becoming lovers; it’s more the sense of friendship, of sisterhood.”

Hattie suddenly stopped talking and shot a worried glance at her friend. Samuel watched in interest, both at the swift change in demeanour and the choice of words of the child.

“Go ahead and tell him what you are really thinking, we have to be honest and can no longer afford to keep secrets,” Rosie softly spoke, and gently squeezed Hattie’s hand in support. “Don’t hold back on my account, I fully intend to reveal whatever parts you miss out.”

“Richard may be my employer, but he isn’t a real person, just a facade put up to protect the real individual hiding within. My friend, the person I share a bed with, isn’t Richard, but someone else. She’s more than a friend, I consider her my big sister. When I look into her eyes, I don’t see a young boy staring back, but a lonely girl like myself,” Hattie said with confidence. “If you had to picture the face that went with her voice, would you think it a man talking? Richard can’t talk because he doesn’t exist. It is Rosie who has been speaking and is here with us now.”

Lord Headley looked at the children, trying to comprehend what had been said. It was almost as if a match had suddenly been struck, the illumination providing a sudden enlightenment onto the situation. Looking at his young charge, he no longer saw a boy sitting in front of him, but a young girl. Rubbing his eyes, Samuel could hardly believe his own senses as his perception of the person in front of him switched.

“You’re a girl?” Lord Headley asked in amazement.

“Effectively yes,” Rosie softly responded, “I may have been born male, but due to my injuries I can never grow to become a man, as I now lack any of the usual male organs. Following the accident, I had a long heart-to-heart with my parents. Under their tutorage, I started experimenting with my role in society. After secretly living as both a boy and a girl, and given my physical defects, we came to the conclusion I would gain greater acceptance presenting as a woman than as a man.”

Finishing the massage and drying her hands on a towel, Rosie continued to explain, “Only a select few individuals knew my secret. Unfortunately, they are all now dead. The plan was that Richard would head to England for schooling, and Rosie would arrive a few weeks later to visit her aunt and uncle. Unfortunately, we never had opportunity to put the plan into action. My mother was training me as a lady, and I have been making short excursions out as a girl.”

“Miss Kayeeda?” Lord Headley asked, Richard’s possession of her notebook and the birth certificate in the paperwork suddenly making sense.

The girl nodded, “Rose Kayeeda is my feminine persona, Kayeeda being my mother’s maiden name. I don’t know where the birth certificate came from. The person named as the mother is my aunt, who died childless many years ago while still a teenager.”

“So you are the mystery external auditor?” Samuel enquired.

“Yes, that was a ploy by my father to bring out the corruption in the company. We knew the books were being fiddled. I had already found discrepancies working as an accounting assistant, but I couldn’t gain access to the full ledgers. My father was a brilliant leader, but was useless with numbers. He could have asked to see the books, but wouldn’t have known what to look for. If I had tried to help him then the two of us would have been accused of tampering with the books ourselves,” Rosie explained. “We needed an independent audit, but the only people available to us couldn’t be trusted. There was a definite old boy network running between the ex-army officers that made up our staff and the only other trained accountants were part of this group.”

“They never realised it was you?” Hattie asked. “I know you look different when wearing your fine dresses, but not that different.”

“I had access to a wig, and powders to lighten my complexion. I was properly corseted and padded to enhance my shape, and I wore thick-soled boots that increased my height. I looked double my actual age. The main difference was in my voice. As a boy, I was almost mute already. I would happily talk to the natives in their languages, but rarely used English. When I did, I would speak with a heavy Indian accent. The voice I’m using now is the one I have practiced for my feminine presentation: softer, British-accented, and with feminine inflections.”

Lord Headley turned back to the window in thought while the children sat in silence, holding hands, waiting in anticipation for the response from the man. He stood at the window, looking out into the gardens, contemplating the information he had been given.

“Rosie, Hattie mentioned seeing you in a dress. Do I take it you have some feminine attire?” Samuel asked.

“Yes, I have a secret compartment in my trunk that I was able to use to bring some of my other clothes from India. Both Hattie and I have worn the dresses, however as I have a very limited supply of girl clothes, and difficulty in washing them without being seen by the staff, we tend to both wear my boy clothing instead. We burnt the filthy rag that Hattie had been wearing for the past year,” Rosie replied.

“I think it might be a good idea to carry on presenting as a boy for the time being, until we can decide how to proceed, at least until my sons leave. They have already caused enough trouble, and finding out that piece of information could make matters worse,” Lord Headley declared, “You won’t have issue with the staff, as they will do as I say. However, for the time being I will instruct Mrs Medlock to attend to you personally rather than the other maids.”

Turning back to the children Lord Headley continued, “It is getting late, I think it is time to retire for the evening. I have a lot to take into consideration. Hattie, you are welcome to stay as Rosie’s houseguest for the time being until I can work out what to do in the long term. Both of you may return to your room, and please sleep well.”

---

 

After being dismissed by Lord Headley, both children curtseyed and left the room. Rosie asked her friend if she had had anything to eat, and on finding that she wasn’t able to obtain a meal, they decided to take a detour via the kitchen. As they approached, they could hear voices talking.

“The way he stood up to Horatio was amazing. He kicked the sword out of the way and landed a blow on his back in one swift graceful move. It was like watching a swan,” Gwen said. “And have you seen the footprint on the wall in the dining room? It is nearly waist high. According to Parker, he bounced off the wall and kicked Horatio between the shoulders.”

“He is quick, and very fit. Remember the trouble I had getting him from the station. He ran all the way here and we weren’t taking things that slowly,” Mrs Medlock stated. “That child is a mystery. That voice! When he shouted I thought it was the late Mrs Headley, he sounds just like her.”

“I wonder if he can sing?” the cook mused. “Mrs Headley had such a lovely voice.”

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky!” The sweet melody caught the three adults by surprise and they looked to the open door, where Rosie stood singing. Hattie was standing beside her friend trying to stifle a giggle at the adults’ reaction.

“I can sing, but don’t do so very often,” Rosie stated. “Although now I have broken my self-imposed silence, I may well sing more often. I apologise for interrupting your conversation.”

“To what do we owe this visit?” Mrs Medlock asked.

“I was wondering if there were any leftovers from dinner this evening. I was going to try to smuggle some food to Hattie, but never had the opportunity. Having been nearly starved for so long, she is terribly thin and I think it important that she has at least a small meal before going to sleep,” Rosie stated, holding onto Hattie, who was trying to shrink away in embarrassment.

“Do I take it you have been sharing the portions I have been sending up to you?” The cook enquired and the two children nodded. “Well from now on I’m sending two portions. Hattie, you look even thinner than Mrs Medlock described. I’m sure we can find you something. Why don’t you both come and sit with us at the table and I’ll see what I can do.”

Hattie was standing in the doorway, wrapped in the soft gown fetched to cover her modesty. The cook, Hilda, was a kindly woman. She was short and plump, obviously enjoying her food and most likely tasting large quantities while preparing it. The two children nervously took seats at the large kitchen table that the other staff were sitting round.

The butler, Parker, came in and looked on in surprise at the two guests to the servants’ area. He then told Mrs Medlock that the master wanted to see her, and she bid her farewell as she dashed off upstairs. Parker then disappeared off again, leaving the children alone with Gwen and the cook.

Hilda disappeared into another room, and returned a minute later with a large sandwich made from slices of beef, tomatoes and lettuce. Setting the plate down in front of Hattie, she then fetched two mugs of steaming cocoa and a plate of biscuits. The adults had been sitting drinking beverages.

Hattie thanked the cook and began to eat the food provided. Rosie took a biscuit, and watched Hattie as she satisfied her hunger. They all sat in silence, unsure of what to say to each other. The staff were used to remaining silent in the company of their superiors. It was very unusual to have such people in the back rooms. Rosie, having been silent for so long, was still not used to talking, having only socialised with Hattie.

Once Hattie had finished her meal, she decided to start a conversation. She did not consider herself to be of a different social class to the people around her. She also could be considered lower class due to her upbringing, although she was now being regarded as higher class due to her association with Rosie.

“Gwen, are you still scared of going upstairs now that you know the reason for most of the noises?” Hattie asked.

Gwen looked on puzzled for a few moments, and then responded, “You’re the ghost?”

Hattie nodded and they talked for the next ten minutes relating incidents from both points of view. Hattie sharing some of her narrow escapes, and revealing some of the tactics she used to scare Gwen. Hattie apologised to Gwen for scaring her, explaining she was bored and needed some amusement to stop her going mad. Gwen was slightly annoyed, but took it in good humour, thankful that there wasn’t a real ghost stalking her.

Mrs Medlock returned to the room as the children finish their drinks.

“I’m glad you are all still here, I have instructions from Lord Headley,” she stated. “It is obvious that Hattie and Richard are sharing quarters, and given that Richard has severe nightmares when sleeping alone, they are being allowed to continue to share the bed for the time being. I know that this is not a normal arrangement and this isn’t to be spoken about with anybody who doesn’t already know. Discretion is as always, an important commodity for continued employment.”

The staff members present nodded and Mrs Medlock then continued to say, “I have been asked to see to the children personally from now on. It is getting late. Hattie, Richard, I will escort you up to your room with a candle.”

The housekeeper led the children through the dark house and up to the top floor. Lighting the gas lamps in the main room, the servant bid farewell to the young girls, and left them to settle for the night. After making use of the bathroom, the girls headed to bed, slipping between the sheets and spooning each other as they fell to sleep.

---

 

Three gentlemen sat waiting in the sitting room for a fourth to return. Samuel Headley had called upon three of his closest friends to assist him in making an important decision. Sitting with him in the room were Mr Hobbs, the local schoolteacher who had recently assessed Richard, and Reverend Swan, the local vicar.

After a long wait, they heard footsteps approaching and they were joined by Doctor Craven. The Doctor sat down, thanking the host as he was handed a glass of port.

“You were gone a while, I assume you have given a thorough examination,” Lord Headley declared.

“I have examined both children,” the Doctor replied, “Master Richard was most insistent that I should examine Miss Jenkins first.”

The Doctor paused to sip his drink before continuing, “Miss Jenkins is showing signs of malnourishment, but thankfully none of the associated diseases such as rickets. Despite her recent fall, she appears to be reasonably fit. A healthy diet with plenty of fruit and veg will soon correct that problem. Now that she is spending a large amount of time outside in the gardens, the sun and fresh air are doing wonders for her complexion.”

“That is good to hear,” Samuel replied, “When I saw how thin she was, I was concerned. I hadn’t realised it when I first saw her as the clothes she was wearing hid her arms and legs, but when she was pushed down the stairs last week, and Richard treated her in my study, I was able to see the thinness of her limbs.”

“As for Richard,” the Doctor hesitated, “I agree with the child. A change of name to Rose does seem appropriate. I had to look extremely closely to find evidence that I wasn’t examining a girl. Whoever patched him up did an excellent job. Most of the scarring has faded and he is left with the outward appearance of a young girl. Any sign of the testis and phallus have gone. The only evidence that she isn’t a natural born woman is the lack of the normal orifice to the birth canal hidden in the folds of skin.”

Taking another pause to sip his port, the Doctor then drew his conclusion, “The child completely lacks reproductive organs, and therefore can no longer be considered male, but neither can be defined as female. From a medical point of view, either classification would be equally appropriate as the child is now asexual.”

Lord Headley then turned to the vicar for advice. The Reverend collected his thoughts before declaring, “This is a difficult theological issue. God created men and women, and is infallible in his infinite wisdom. He gave us freedom of mind and body, and unlike the almighty, we are capable of making mistakes. I’m reminded of an incident when I was a young curate, training under a wise old vicar in Nottingham. We had the unusual task of rechristening a young girl, who was originally christened as a boy. Due to a birth defect, the child was originally thought to be male, but several years later, when the child was brought to the local workhouse and examined by the doctor, it was discovered that a mistake had been made, and what was thought to be male genitalia was in fact a skin growth. We rechristened the child as a girl, correcting the original error.”

The vicar paused and sipped his drink before adding, “God moves in mysterious ways. The church is founded on a series of miracles, events that cannot be explained. Who is to say that this child was not meant to be a girl all along, and that this is God’s way of righting a mistake? From the accounts of the accident, it was a miracle that the child survived in the first place.”

“This isn’t quite the same though,” stated Mr Hobbs, “we know that Richard was born male.”

“Do we really?” the vicar countered. “We only have the child’s say on the matter, and what can currently be seen by the Doctor. We don’t know exactly what was removed. We assume that the child was a fully functioning male before the accident, but we don’t know for certain.”

“Legally he is male. I assume you have the records of his birth?” Mr Hobbs enquired.

“Yes, I have Richard’s birth certificate. However, I also have a birth certificate for Rosie,” Lord Headley replied, pulling both pieces of paper from a folder and placing them in front of his guests.

The three men took turns in examining the documents. Lord Headley added, “I have checked with the authorities in India, both documents are genuine as far as the government’s concerned. I don’t know how Fred obtained the second document, but I do know that shortly before his death he withdrew several large sums of money from his bank account in Darjeeling.”

“You think he may have bribed a government official to obtain a new identity for his offspring?” Doctor Craven asked.

“I think that’s a distinct possibility,” Samuel replied, “It also leaves me with both an opportunity and a moral dilemma. If one of those documents were to accidentally fall into the fire, then effectively the person named would cease to exist, another missing casualty of the fever.”

“I read a quote in the paper the other day, ‘when I see a bird that walks like a duck and swims like a duck and quacks like a duck, I call that bird a duck.’ I think that the principle applies here,” Mr Hobbs declared.

“I didn’t see it immediately, but as soon as Hattie called Richard, Rosie, it was as if a candle had been lit,” Samuel said, “She looks like a girl, her mannerisms are as feminine as any debutant I have seen, and that voice. When she shouted at Horatio the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. For a moment I thought my beloved Clara had returned, she sounds so like her.”

“The only nagging thing in my mind is the doubt that it isn’t God’s will for this child to grow up as a girl,” Reverend Swan acknowledged. “After all why take away the very people who were helping her to become a woman. If it was God’s will to punish those turning the child, why cause the deaths of several hundred people. The God I worship is loving and forgiving, not a tyrant. If he had wanted the child a boy then the accident would never have happened, and he would have taken the child into heaven with his parents rather than make the child live in a role that he can never fulfil. I know some of my peers wouldn’t approve, but I’m willing to rechristen Richard as Rose given the Doctor’s verdict and the paper you have in your hand.”

“Sam, given that you have just been referring to the child in the feminine, I think your mind may already be set,” the Doctor said to his friend.

“Thank you, gentlemen, your support has been most helpful,” confirmed Lord Headley, “Reverend, I will let you know if we decide to take up your offer. I need to think this through.”

The three guests departed the manor leaving Lord Headley to consider his options.

He was informed by his housekeeper that both children had departed for the garden, still in male clothing, as was their normal routine. They had only stayed indoors on his request so that they could be found when the doctor arrived.

Nobody had witnessed what the children got up to while outside, as they always stayed away from where the garden staff where working. It had taken several weeks for Hattie to be spotted with Richard.

Deciding the fresh air would be a good idea; Lord Headley headed out of the house and started to walk through the gardens.

---

 

Lord Headley walked through the grounds to his private rose garden. It was one of the walled gardens on the estate. His father was a believer in the spiritual side of nature, and had given his sons patches of ground to look after and nurture. Although he no longer had time to tend to the flowers full-time, he would always tend to the roses whenever he had opportunity.

The gardeners now looked after the majority of the flora, but he still enjoyed looking after some of the plants. He found the time spent outside pottering about most therapeutic.

The gardeners were working at the other end of the estate today. Some of the large, older trees bordering the fields had been damaged in recent high winds, and they were pruning the dead wood away and planting new saplings.

While smelling the roses, he became aware of the sounds of laughter echoing through the quietness. It had been several years since the sound of playing children could be heard on the estate. He remembered fondly listening to his sons playing, and recalled his own adventures exploring the grounds as a young boy.

The sound he heard now was different. The chuckling was higher in pitch. Rather than being the raucous laughter of boys, he was hearing the giggling of girls. He wondered if he was just hearing Hattie, but his ears could soon determine that two voices were carrying on the wind. His assessment of his young charge seemed to becoming stronger in his mind. He was now almost certain that he had a niece and not a nephew.

The girls, for it now seemed that was the appropriate gender for his brother’s child, were obviously having fun somewhere in the gardens. Lord Headley knew that the children liked their privacy, and went out of their way to hide from observation. However, his curiosity was piqued and he decided to follow the sounds to find them.

Slowly and quietly, Samuel Headley emerged from his garden and started to stroll round the estate looking for the youngsters. He circled through the open grounds, listening for sounds of their presence. However, he didn’t find them anywhere. Pinpointing their location was tricky by sound alone, as the noise tended to bounce around the walls and trees, making it difficult to discern the direction. In addition, the children were quiet for much of the time.

Having walked through the majority of the grounds without spotting the children, Samuel concluded that they must be hiding in one of the walled gardens. This seemed to be where he could hear them the loudest, and he couldn’t see them in the surrounding open landscape.

There were seven walled gardens running north to south to the east of the house. Starting in the northernmost enclosure, his private rose garden, Lord Headley moved through each looking for the two girls.

In each garden, the sound of play became slightly louder, but each was in turn empty. Finally, after exploring the sixth walled enclosure, Lord Headley stopped to wonder. Could it be possible that Rosie had found a way into the final garden? Had her father given her the elusive key before his death? The garden had been locked since Fredrick left for India and nobody had disobeyed his instructions not to enter.

With nervous anticipation, Lord Headley crept along to where the old door lay hidden. It took him a few minutes to locate the missing entrance, having not set foot in this space for almost fifteen years.

Lifting back the ivy curtain, he saw that the way in was not only unlocked, but also slightly open. Pushing the door, he expected the old hinges to squeak in protest, but they had been freshly oiled and it swung open in silence. Before him was a freshly swept and weeded flagstone path leading through a tunnel of foliage. Being careful not to make a sound, he crept down the path.

As he emerged from the tunnel onto a neatly cut lawn, he stopped to take in the scene in front of him. Two beautiful young girls in pretty summer dresses sat in the garden. One was sitting with her back to him on a small stool, an easel erected in front of her as she painted the scene. The other girl was lying on cushions in the summerhouse, reading a book. Neither had noticed the man arrive, both being absorbed in their activities.

He hardly recognised the people in front of him. Gone were the tomboyish clothing and masculine appearances. Hattie was attempting to read aloud, but not doing very well. Rosie sat correcting her while she painted. Hattie, obviously looking for mischief, kept mispronouncing words deliberately and giggling.

“Stop messing around, and stay still, I can’t paint you if you keep moving,” Rosie said to her friend in mock anger.

Hattie looked across to her friend and immediately froze on seeing the man watching them. She slowly sat up and put her book down. Rosie, on seeing the shocked look of her friend, turned to face Lord Headley.

On seeing her uncle, she stood and held her head up high in a dignified but determined fashion. Rosie was now fully dressed as a young girl, in one of her favourite and most feminine dresses, her hair neatly combed into a feminine style. Samuel examined the person standing in front of him. Any doubts over the gender of the individual disappeared from his mind.

Lord Headley walked towards the young girl, who although nervous stood her ground. Bending down, Samuel took her hand in his, lifting it to his mouth. He gently kissed the back of her hand. The child visibly relaxed at his gesture, having been worried about his response to the sight before him.

“Rosie, you look exceptionally beautiful this afternoon,” the man declared, “I am proud to have such a lovely young lady as my niece.”

“You don’t mind that I am going against nature in my choice to change gender?” the child asked.

“I have consulted with my friends, and I agree with their assessment. You may have once been male, but you are most definitely a young girl now,” he replied. “Reverend Swan has even agreed to rechristen you as a girl.”

The long held emotion, that as Richard the child had to hold in, suddenly exploded. In a burst of tears of joy, Rosie wrapped her uncle in a hug, repeatedly shouting, ‘thank you’ as she squeezed tightly.

Hattie stood nervously to one side, having risen and walked round the small pond to where the two members of the Headley family stood embracing. On seeing the other girl standing alone and dejected, Samuel extended his arm and beckoned the girl over.

“I haven’t forgotten my other little girl. You are after all, the closest thing to sisters. Hattie Jenkins, from this day forward you can consider yourself adopted. Welcome to the family,” Lord Headley declared.

The younger girl’s expression changed to delight as she ran over to the other two and wrapped herself round them in a three-way hug. The united family members embraced for several minutes, the two girls crying in happiness. Even the usually restrained gentleman felt moisture start to form in his eyes as he opened his heart to the girls.

“I like what you have done with your garden,” Samuel stated after a few minutes.

“I hope you don’t mind us being in here,” Rosie replied.

“Of course not,” Lord Headley replied, “This garden was given to your father, and as his sole heir, this is now yours as far as I’m concerned.”

Mrs Medlock was sipping a cup of tea with the cook when she heard the shouts of Gwen and Martha. The two ladies, on hearing the commotion, headed up to the main entrance along with the other staff from various parts of the building. Quickly taking charge of the situation, the housekeeper called for order and arranged the staff in a line outside to greet the three people walking towards the house.

At first, the identities of the young girls coming up the drive weren’t obvious to the observers. However, as they got closer it became apparent whom the three figures walking hand-in-hand were.

The fact that the trio were holding hands, and the smiles on the faces of the girls, told Mrs Medlock all she needed to know. She glanced across at Gwen, Martha and Hilda, all of whom now realised that his lordship had effectively gained two daughters.

Nobody would miss the passing of a small mute boy who never really existed in the first place.