What Happens in Piccadilly - Chasity Bowlin Page 0,16

asked, “And what do you think those were… her reasons?”

The little girl sighed heavily. “I think it’s because he reminded her of our father who was always gone, or going away, or just coming back from being away. And whenever he was there, he was always in a foul mood because he’d lost money gaming… money we didn’t really have. He and Mother would argue terribly, about his gambling and about other women that he spent time with… it would go on for days until he got tired of it and went away once more. But William is not like him. Not really. He only looks like him a little.”

Callie nodded. Claudia needed to talk. She needed to let out all the awful things she’d been holding inside and it seemed very much as if no one, in all the time she’d been there, had bothered to offer her the opportunity. “I see. And in what ways is he different?”

“Father was selfish. He only ever worried about how being poor affected him. He couldn’t go to the places he wanted and do the things he wanted… meanwhile, we had landlords threatening to throw us out into the streets. There was no money for clothes and no money for food, and he didn’t really care. But that’s not William. William loves us. He wants to protect us. He looks out for us, after all, as much as a little boy can. Father wasn’t mean. He didn’t hit us or yell at us, not very much anyway. But he just didn’t want to be bothered, not with us and not really with Mother… and during his long absences, Mother would take to her bed and wail about it and she didn’t want to be bothered with us either. Anytime William went to her, wanting to hug her or get a kiss from her, she’d just weep harder and send him away. I think he wanted to comfort her as much as to be comforted by her.”

They kept walking, silently, for a few moments. Claudia was lost in thought, swamped by memories of her parents, by the grief for what was lost and also, it seemed, for the grief of what had never been. For herself, Callie was at a loss. She wanted nothing more than to gather all of those children into her arms and squeeze them and never let go. But confessions like Claudia’s didn’t happen without reason. There was a warning in them as well, and she needed to know what it was.

“You don’t seem the sort to simply bare one’s soul. In fact, I don’t think if you’d had another choice that you would have told me any of these things. So I must think that there is a reason, Claudia, you’re telling me all of this now,” Callie observed softly.

“You’re quite right. There is a reason. He’ll get attached to you, you see? Because you’re kind. And so very few people have been kind to William. And I don’t want him to be hurt. I know he’s a boy and he wants to pretend that he’s tough and strong and that nothing bothers him, but I think, in truth, his heart is more fragile than mine or Charlotte’s,” the girl explained. “And he likes you. He likes you quite a lot.”

“I like him quite a lot, too,” Callie replied. “I like all of you. And I hope that as the days go along, we will all like each other even more. But I’m not going to run off and leave you the way your last governess did. Nor will I ever tell William that he cannot give me a hug or kiss my cheek. I daresay I will give him hugs and kisses until he becomes utterly sick of them and runs away from me.”

“Everyone says they won’t leave. But in the end, everyone does,” Claudia said.

Callie wanted more than anything to simply hug the child, to take her in her arms and tell her that she knew exactly what that felt like. But that wasn’t why Claudia had opened up to her. It wasn’t about her. It was about the need she felt to protect her siblings.

Callie sighed. “We’ll have to let time tell us how it will all go, won’t we?”

“I suppose we will,” Claudia agreed.

Changing the subject, Callie gestured toward William who was now climbing the tree he’d apparently conquered during his sword fight. “How long do you suppose it will take for him to