Falling Angels (25 page)

Then the procession halted again. Simon ran off to collect his horse, and we moved toward the Marble Arch entrance to Hyde Park. We were pressed closer and closer together, as many of the people on the pavement squeezed into the crowd to enter as well. It was like being a grain of sand in an hourglass, waiting our turn to funnel through the tiny hole. It grew so crowded that I grabbed Maude and Ivy May's hands.

Then we were through, and suddenly there was open space, sunny and green and full of fresh air. I gulped at it as if it were water.

A great sea of people had gathered in the distance around various carts where handfuls of suffragettes perched. In their white dresses and all piled up above the crowd they reminded me of puffy clouds on the horizon.

"Move along, move along," called a woman behind us who wore a sash reading CHIEF MARSHAL. "There's thousands more behind you, waiting to get in. Move along to the platforms, please, keeping in formation."

The procession was meant to continue all the way to the platforms, but once inside the park everyone began rushing to and fro, and we lost all order. Men who had been spectators along the route were now mingling with all the ladies who had marched, and as we moved willy-nilly toward the platforms it became more crowded again, with them pushing in on us. Mama would be horrified if she could see us, unchaperoned, caught among all these men. I saw that silly Eunice for a moment, shouting at someone to bring her banner around. She was hopeless at looking after us.

There were banners everywhere. I kept looking for one I had sewn but there were so many that my mistakes were lost among them. I had not imagined that so many people could gather in one place at one time. It was frightening but thrilling as well, like when a tiger at the zoo stares straight at you with its yellow eyes.

"Do you see Platform Five?" Maude asked.

I couldn't see numbers anywhere, but Ivy May pointed to a platform, and we began to make our way over. Maude kept pulling me into walls of people, and I had to grip Ivy May's hand harder, as it was growing sweaty.

"Let's not go any farther," I called to Maude. "It's so crowded."

"Just a little bit--I'm looking for Mummy." Maude kept pulling my hand.

Suddenly there were too many people. The little spaces we had managed to push into became a solid wall of legs and backs. People pressed up behind us, and I could feel strangers pushing at my arms and shoulders.

Then I felt a hand on my bottom, the fingers brushing me gently. I was so surprised that I did nothing for a moment. The hand pulled up my dress and began fumbling with my bloomers, right there in the middle of all those people. I couldn't believe no one noticed.

When I tried to shift away, the hand Followed. I looked back--the man standing behind me was about Papa's age, tall, gray haired, with a thin moustache and spectacles. His eyes were fixed on the platform. I could not believe it was his hand--he looked so respectable. I raised my heel and brought it down hard on the foot behind me. The man winced and the hand disappeared. After a moment he pushed away and was gone, someone else stepping into his place.

I shuddered and whispered to Maude, "Let's get away from here," but I was drowned out by a bugle call. The crowd surged forward and Maude was pushed into the back of the woman ahead of her, dropping my hand. Then I was shoved violently to the left. I looked around but couldn't see Maude.

"If I may have your attention, I would like to open this meeting on this most momentous occasion in Hyde Park," I heard a voice ring out. A woman had climbed onto a box higher than the rest of the women on the platform. In her mauve dress she looked like lavender sprinkled on a bowl of vanilla ice cream. She stood very straight and still.

"There's Mrs. Pankhurst," women around me murmured.

"I am delighted to see before me a great multitude of people, of supporters--both women
and
men--of the simple right of women to take their places alongside men and cast their ballots. Prime Minister Asquith has said that he needs to be assured that the will of the people is behind the call for votes for women. Well, Mr. Asquith, I say to you that if you were standing where I am now and saw the great sea of humanity before you as I do, you would need no more convincing!"

The crowd roared. I put my hands on the shoulders of the woman beside me and jumped up to try and see over the crowd. "Maude!" I called, but it was so noisy she would never have heard me. The woman scowled and shrugged off my hands.

Mrs. Pankhurst was waiting for the sound to die down. "We have a full afternoon of speakers," she began as it grew quiet, "and without further ado--"

"Maude!" I cried.

Mrs. Pankhurst paused, and jerked her head slightly. "I would like to introduce--"

"Maude! Maude!"

"Lavinia!" I heard, and saw a hand fluttering above the crowd far to my right. I waved back and kept waving as I began to push toward the hand.

Mrs. Pankhurst had stopped again. "Shh! Shh!" women on the platform began to hiss. I continued to push, forcing spaces to open in front of me, ignoring whatever was happening on the platform. Then ahead of me I saw the garland of delphiniums and star jasmine I had woven that morning for Maude's straw hat, and with one last shove I had found her.

We held on to each other tightly. Maude's heart was beating hard, and I was trembling.

"Let's get away from all these people," Maude whispered. I nodded and, still holding tight to Maude, let her push away from the platform and out of the jam of people listening to Mrs. Pankhurst.

At last there was space again. When we reached the trees on the far edge of the crowd I stopped. "I'm going to be sick," I said.

Maude led me to a tree, where I could kneel away from everyone. Afterward we found a shady spot to sit a little away from the base of the tree. We didn't say anything for a few minutes, but watched people stroll or hurry past, detaching themselves from one wheel of spectators around a platform, joining another. We could see four platforms from where we sat. In the distance the women speaking on them were tiny figures whose arms moved about like windmills.

I was very thirsty.

Maude would speak eventually, I knew, and ask the question that must be asked. I dreaded it.

"Lavinia," she said at last, "where is Ivy May?"

For the first time all day I began to cry. "I don't know."

Mummy was sitting just two trees away. We didn't discover that until after the meeting had ended.

There was no point in searching for anyone while the speeches were being made and the crowd so tightly packed in. Lavinia was in despair, but I knew that Ivy May was a sensible girl--she might say little, but she heard everything, and she would know that we were to meet Mummy at Platform 5 after the Great Shout, whatever that was.

That is what I kept telling myself, and repeating to Lavinia, whenever she would listen. Eventually she laid her head in my lap and fell asleep, which is just like her in a dramatic moment. It is melodrama that she loves--to her true drama is dull. I fidgeted, waiting for the speeches to finish and for Lavinia to wake.

At last a bugle sounded. When it sounded a second time, Lavinia sat up, her face red and crumpled. "What time is it?" she said, yawning.

"I'm not sure. Close to five o'clock, I expect."

The distant crowds were waving their arms and cheering. The bugle sounded once more. A chant rose up like an orchestra swelling to a crescendo in a symphony. It sounded as if everyone were saying, "Folks are swimming." Only the third time did I realize they were calling, "Votes for women!" The last one was loud like a thunderclap, and the cheers and laughter that followed like rain released from clouds.

Then, suddenly, the crowd broke up and a surge of people moved toward us. I scanned the passing faces for someone familiar. I did spy Eunice, who rushed past with a stray banner and pole. She did not see us and we did not try to stop her.

"We should go to Platform Five," I said. "Someone is bound to be there."

We linked arms and began to wade through the crowd, but it was very difficult as everyone was moving away from the platform rather than toward it. Everywhere there were exhausted faces--thirsty children, impatient women, concerned men wondering how they would get home through such crowds. Now that people were not marching in organized processions, the streets outside Hyde Park would be in chaos, jammed with people and cabs and overfull omnibuses. It would take hours to get home.

Finally we drew close to what I remembered as Platform 5, but the banner with the number 5 on it had been taken down. Mrs. Pankhurst and the other women had climbed down from the cart, and a man was hitching a horse up to it.

"They're taking away the platform!" I cried. "How will we ever find Mummy without it?"

"There's Caroline Black," Lavinia said, pulling at my sleeve. "What on earth is she wearing?"

Caroline Black was hopping from foot to foot, still in her Joan of Arc armor. The white plume in her helmet bobbed up and down as she moved. She looked very grim, and my stomach turned over to see her alone.

"There you are!" she cried, not smiling sweetly at me as she usually did. "Where have you been? I've been looking for you for ages!"

"Where's Mummy?" I demanded.

Caroline Black looked as if she might cry. "Your mother--she's had a little mishap."

"What happened?"

"It all went so well, that's the shame of it." Caroline Black shook her head. "We had a marvelous time, with such support from our comrades and the spectators. And the horse was lovely, so gentle, and a dream to ride. If only--"

"What happened? Where is she?" It was all I could do not to shriek the words.

"Someone let off firecrackers in the crowd along Oxford Street. The horse shied, and at that moment Kitty stepped in front of it to look at my banner--I don't know why. The horse reared--I just barely kept my own seat. When it came down it kicked her in the chest."

"Where is she now?"

"The daft thing insisted on finishing the march, leading the horse and all, as if nothing had happened. She said she was fine, just a bit breathless. And I stupidly allowed her. Then she wouldn't leave during the speeches--she said she had to be here to find you afterward."

"Where in God's name is she?" I cried. Lavinia jumped at my tone and people around us stared. But Caroline Black didn't even flinch.

"She's sitting over in the trees." She pointed back the way we had come.

Lavinia grabbed my arm as I began to walk toward the trees. "What about Ivy May?" she cried. "We must find her!"

"Let's get to Mummy and then we'll look for her." I knew Lavinia was angry at me but I ignored her and kept going.

Mummy was propped up against the trunk of the tree, one leg folded under her, a bare leg stretched out in front.

"Oh, my Lord," Lavinia murmured. I had forgot that she hadn't seen Mummy in her costume.

Mummy smiled as we came up, but her face was tense, as if she were struggling to hide something. Her breathing was labored. "Hello, Maude," she said. "Did you enjoy the procession?"

"How do you feel, Mummy?"

Mummy patted her chest. "Hurts."

"We must get you home, my dear," Caroline Black said. "Can you walk?"

"She mustn't walk," I interrupted, remembering my first-aid lessons from school. "That may make it worse."

"Going to be a doctor, are you?" Mummy said. "That's good. I thought you might become an astronomer, but I've been known to be wrong. As long as you become something, I don't mind what it is. Except perhaps a wife. But don't tell Daddy that." She winced as she took a breath. "Go to university."

"Hush, Mummy. Don't talk."

I looked around. Caroline Black and Lavinia were watching me as if I were in charge.

Then I saw a familiar figure striding toward us.

"Thank heaven you're here, Mr. Jackson!" Lavinia cried, grabbing his arm. "Can you find Ivy May for us?"

"No," I interrupted. "You must get Mummy to a cab. She needs a doctor quickly."

Mr. Jackson looked at Mummy. "What has happened, Kitty?"

"She's been kicked by a horse and can't breathe," I said.

"Hello, John," Mummy murmured. "This is what happens, you see--I dress up as Robin Hood and get kicked by the pantomime horse."

"Ivy May is lost, Mr. Jackson!" Lavinia shouted. "My little sister has been lost in that horrid crowd!"

Mr. Jackson looked from Mummy to Lavinia. I knew he could not make the decision himself--I would have to do it. "Mr. Jackson, go and find a cab," I ordered. "You're more likely to get one than me or Lavinia, and you can carry Mummy to it. Caroline, you wait here with Mummy, and Lavinia and I will look for Ivy May."

"No!" Lavinia cried, but Mr. Jackson had already run off.

Mummy nodded. "That's right, Maude. You're perfectly capable of taking charge." She remained against the tree, with Caroline Black kneeling awkwardly beside her in her armor.

I took Lavinia's hand. "We'll find her," I said. "I promise."

We did not find her. We searched everywhere, but we did not find her.

We walked back and forth across the park where the crowds had stood, the grass all trampled as if a herd of cattle had passed through. There were many fewer people now, so it should have been easy to see a little girl on her own. But there were none. Instead there were groups of young men roving about. They made me very nervous, especially when they called out to us. Maude and I linked arms tightly as we walked.

It was so frustrating--we could not find any policemen, nor even any of the suffragettes who had been running about during the procession wearing sashes that read BANNER CAPTAIN or CHIEF MARSHAL. Not one responsible grown-up was about to help.