Lottie Project (29 page)

Robin needed to have a wee so I took him into this lavatory – and it was a genuine Victorian one, with a special picture down the pan and a great big wooden seat. I tried it out too.

I hoped I’d be able to buy a postcard of it, but no such luck. I bought lots of other postcards, though. Not for Lottie’s diary. It had become obvious to me that Miss Beckworth was not going to approve of my project. It was very much
my
way, not hers. And yet there was no way I was going to change it now. So I decided if I couldn’t win a prize for best Victorian project then I might as well make sure that Jamie did. I bought all the postcards for him.

SEASIDE

DEAR LITTLE FREDDIE
pulled through! One night his fever rose alarmingly and he didn’t know any of us and we all really felt this was the end – but towards dawn he quietened and grew calm and suddenly opened his eyes and said ‘Mamma’ as clear as anything. He took a long drink and then settled down into a peaceful sleep. He woke at lunchtime almost his old self, though his sweet curls were all in a tangle and his face pale and drawn. He lapped up all his broth and made it plain that he wanted more.

The Mistress cried, Mrs Angel cried, Eliza cried – and oh how I cried too! We were all so tired and strung out watching over little Freddie that the Master decided to take a week away from his business and hire rooms for us all at the seaside as soon as Freddie was fit to travel.

We went on the steam train, an amazing adventure! Victor was beside himself with glee, asking questions nineteen to the dozen – and Louisa insisted on sticking her head out of the
window
and got herself covered in sooty smuts.

It was dark when we arrived at long last and there was such a to-do getting the children to bed and all our belongings unpacked that I simply crawled into my own bed and fell fast asleep while Eliza and Mrs Angel were still joshing and giggling (we three share a room in the seaside lodgings and it is very companionable). But I awoke early. I looked in on Freddie but he was still fast asleep, and there wasn’t a peep from Louisa or Victor either. So I wrapped myself in my cloak and ran down to see the sea.

I could not believe it. I knew it would be a very large stretch of water, but I’d pictured it like the river at home. I had no idea it would shimmer as far as the eye could see. And it moved so, wave after wave rolling over and over.

It was very cold in the early morning air but I tore my boots and stockings off and paddled in the shallows just to say I had done it! A fat old woman told me I could use one of her bathing machines if I cared to, but I was happy enough just to let the water whirl about my ankles. My feet were blue with cold all morning but I didn’t care.

Then, when I took the three children to the beach later that
morning
there was an ice-cream man selling hokey-pokey for a penny a lump, even though it was the winter season. I had three pennies so I bought one for Louisa, one for Victor, and one for Freddie and me to share.

My first ice cream! This time my lips turned blue but I licked them warm again.

I still cannot say I enjoy being a servant – but it has its compensations!

CHRISTMAS

JAMIE’S VICTORIAN PROJECT
did
win. Well, it was obvious it was going to. It was easy-peasy, simple-pimple to work it out. Though my postcards from Bournemouth certainly helped. They made Jamie’s project much thicker and the pages clicked enticingly as you turned each page. These postcard pages were so bright and glossy that Miss Beckworth couldn’t
help
being dazzled. All right, she puts lots of ticks and stars and
Well Dones!
on his sections on railway engines and factories and coal mines, and she liked his town and country pages and all his maps in the British Empire bit, and she went a bit overboard on his Crimean War with an
EXCELLENT!
underlined. My postcards just got a tick or two, but that was obviously because she didn’t want to deface the beauty of the page.

Miss Beckworth held Jamie’s project up and showed it to the class and all the goodie-goodies went Oooh and Aaah and all the baddie-baddies went Yuck and Boring and Swot and Teacher’s Pet. I would normally count myself the baddest baddie-baddie – and yet I found myself thumping old Jamie on the back and saying, ‘Well done, Clever Clogs.’

He went very red when I said that. Maybe I thumped a bit too hard. Then he had to go up to Miss Beckworth and shake her hand and
she
said ‘Well done’ too. She said she’d like to give him a little prize. She gave him a £5 book token and a little painted Victorian soldier. Jamie was dead chuffed.

I couldn’t help feeling a bit wistful then. I waited for Miss Beckworth to hand out the rest of the projects. I was sure mine would have red lines all through it and
SEE ME, CHARLOTTE!
in cross capitals. But you’ll never ever guess what! Miss Beckworth paused theatrically.

‘Jamie’s brilliant project tells us almost all there is to know about Victorian times. But there’s one other project here that tells us what it
feels
like to be a Victorian.’ And she held out MY project!!! ‘I’m so impressed with your diary of Lottie the Nursery Maid that I’d like to award you a prize too, Charlotte.’

‘Great! Good for you, Charlie,’ said Jamie.

Yep! Good for me! Miss Beckworth beckoned me out to the front of the class and I had to go through the handshaking ceremony too, which was OK – but I kept thinking, am
I
getting a prize like Jamie? And I did! A £5 book token, and a tiny reproduction china doll the size of my little finger.

‘Oh, she’s sweet! Thank you very much, Miss Beckworth,’ I said.

‘Do you know what they used to call that sort of doll? They were called Frozen Charlottes,’ said Miss Beckworth, and she actually grinned at me.

I appreciated her little joke. I actually sort of appreciated
her
for once. She asked me to read out some of my diary entries for Lottie. So I did. Everyone got a bit shuffly and sighing to start with – but by the time I’d got to the bottom of the first page
they were riveted
! I read on and on and not a single person said Yuck, so there!

Lisa and Angela got a teensy little bit snotty afterwards. Lisa especially, because her dad had done all her Victorian project on his posh computer with special loopy writing and graphics and it hadn’t even had a special mention.

‘You’re really getting to be a teacher’s pet now, Charlie,’ said Lisa. ‘I don’t know who’s the swottiest now, you or your precious Jamie.’

‘He’s not mine. And he’s not precious either, come to that,’ I said, snorting.

‘
We
saw you putting your arm round him when his project won,’ said Angela, giggling away.

‘Purlease!’ I said. ‘Don’t be so pathetic, Ange.’

‘You’re the one that’s pathetic, Charlie, getting all matey with Jamie Edwards. He’s the nerdiest boy in the whole class.’

‘So?’ I said fiercely.

‘So what do you
see
in him?’ said Lisa.

‘He can be quite good fun sometimes. OK, he
does
look a bit weird—’

‘You’re telling me!’ said Lisa.

‘And he wears the grottiest clothes,’ said Angela.