Instinctively, my eyes slid up and down Ella’s figure. She was dressed in what was considered normal and decent for a young lady to wear: a pale cotton gown with wide, puffed sleeves and lace trimmings, and, of course, the crinoline, a structure for supporting enormous hoop skirts that was made out of the bones of whales. The poor sea creatures had to suffer to give the rear end of every lady within the British Empire preposterous dimensions. This was what was considered ‘normal’.
Taking this into consideration, was there a legitimate reason why a woman would want to wear trousers?
Well, maybe because she actually had some brains…
‘Why don’t you answer, Lilly? What is the matter?’
But no, that wouldn’t work as an argument with Ella. I bit my lip, trying desperately to think of something to say.
‘Please,’ she pleaded, clasping her hands together like a little child. ‘Please tell me where you were!’
Darn it! How could I resist her? But I simply couldn’t tell her what had really happened.
Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t that I didn’t trust her. I loved her. I would have trusted her with my deepest, darkest secrets - if she hadn’t been afraid of the dark, that is. If I told her that I went out, dressed in men’s clothes, to illegally vote at a parliamentary election, was offered a job as a secretary, got caught by the police, then got thrown into jail and spent the night next door to three famous murderers, she would have nightmares for the next three years.
‘I… I wanted to go out last night to visit Patsy,’ I fibbed. ‘And you know… it was so late, and the streets were so dark… I was afraid something might happen to me, a lone girl, in the dangerous city.’ I affected a quite convincing shudder. ‘And I had read in some book - I don't remember the title right now - of girls dressing up as men when they did not want to be harassed, so I thought why not do the same, and so I did. But then it was so terrible out in the dark streets, and Patsy said I could stay the night if I didn’t want to return in the dark. I was afraid, so I stayed. Sorry for worrying you.’
I waited for the admonishment. No doubt even my sweet, unsuspecting sister would see through this feeble lie. When in the world had I ever been afraid of anything, let alone something as ridiculous as the dark? Rather than dressing in my uncle’s clothes to avoid trouble, I would have taken my uncle’s cane to deal with trouble if it chose to appear. What would I say next if Ella didn’t believe me?
‘Oh, my poor, poor Lilly.’ Ella rushed towards me. The next thing I knew she was hugging me tightly, though slightly awkwardly because of her enormous hoop skirt getting in the way. ‘That must have been so terrible! You must have been really frightened.’
‘Err… yes,’ I mumbled. ‘I was, I was really.’ Dear Lord, she had actually swallowed it!
‘Poor Lilly. You are so brave. Oh, I would have died from fear if I had to set a foot outside the house at night.’
‘Well it’s fortunate that I went out then, and not you,’ I said, patting her head reassuringly. ‘I like you alive and kicking.’
‘We must go to Aunt Brank, Lilly, immediately,’ Ella insisted, stood back and grasped me by the hand. ‘She wanted to know where you had disappeared to. I’m sure she’s frantic with worry.’
Oh blast! Ella, the sweet little angel, might be easy to fool, but my aunt was another matter. If she saw me in striped trousers it would most definitely not have a calming effect on her. Quite the opposite, I suspected.
Ella was already turning and starting towards the door when I grasped her by the arm. ‘Stop! Wait.’
‘Why? We shouldn’t wait. She must be terribly worried!’
Worried? Not worried for me, that was for sure. Worried that I had committed some humongous, scandalous transgression, maybe. That was always her first assumption when anything out of the ordinary happened near me: blame Lilly. And in this case she would actually be right.
‘Um… I can’t let her see me like this.’ I gestured at Uncle Bufford’s old trousers. ‘She would be very upset.’
To be honest, 'very upset' was putting it mildly. But I thought it better to couch it in gentler terms for the benefit of my little sister.
Ella clutched her hands in front of her chest. ‘Oh, you are right! Oh, Lilly, what shall we do?’
‘Err… change?’ I suggested. ‘At least I should. You are fine as you are.’
‘Quite right!’ A beaming smile spread across Ella’s face. ‘And then we will go down to see Aunt?’
‘Yes, yes.’
Quickly I went to the big old wardrobe that took up a considerable portion of the room. Its size was hardly justified by its contents: one coat and two dresses for each of us. No ball gowns, no large collection of dresses like many of the ladies in town possessed.
Originally, there had even been only one dress for each of us, until I had pointed out to my dear aunt and uncle that if one dress got dirty, you needed a second one to change into, since it was hardly proper for a lady to run around stark-naked. Grudgingly, my uncle had conceded the point and opened his precious purse to buy each of us another dress. The plainest and cheapest that could be found in the city of London.
This was the dress I now took out of the wardrobe, not forgetting to thank the Lord for my uncle’s stinginess. The very fact that it was so plain made it a marvellous camouflage for dodging the prospective suitors my aunt flung at me at regular intervals.
‘Here, hold this for a moment, will, you?’ I asked Ella, with one hand starting to open the belt which held Uncle Bufford’s old trousers in place, and handing her my favourite armour against suitors with the other.
You aren’t likely to need it to fend off many suitors, though, are you? said a nasty little voice in the back of my head. Not as long as you look so unlike a girl that the most masculine of men doesn't even recognize you as female.
‘Help me put this on, will you?’ I said to Ella, to drown out the annoying voice in my head. I would not think of Mr Ambrose again. I had done more than enough of that in prison.
‘Of course,’ she responded with a sweet smile and was just about to unbutton the dress when a knock from the door froze her in place. That knock managed to drive all thoughts of Mr Ambrose out of my head far more successfully than any attempts on my part.
‘Ella? Ella, are you still in there? Who are you talking to?’ The high tones of my aunt’s voice penetrated the door. I would have said her voice sounded something like a piece of chalk being dragged across a blackboard, but that would be an insult to chalk all over the world.
Before I could stop her, Ella smiled and cried, elated: ‘It’s Lilly, Aunt! She has come back!’
There was a pause. It was filled with the threat of sudden and violent doom. ‘Lillian? Is it true? Are you in there?’
For a moment I considered shouting back, ‘No, not really’ - but then I gave up. There was no sense in pretending anymore.
‘Yes, Aunt, I am here.’
‘Come out at once! I wish to speak with you. You have a lot to explain, young lady!’
On tiptoes, I went to the door and bolted it.
‘What are you doing?’ Ella mouthed at me, her eyes wide.
‘Protecting our necks,’ I mouthed back at her.
‘I’m sorry, Aunt, but that will have to wait a while,’ I called out. ‘I’m dressing at the moment.’
‘So what? I am your Aunt. I have seen you dress since you were a little girl.’ She turned the doorknob and pushed - but the door wouldn’t budge. ‘Lillian? Lillian, don't tell me this door is bolted!’
‘That’s fine,’ I answered in as light a tone as I could manage while frantically unbuttoning Uncle Bufford’s waistcoat. ‘I won’t tell you, I promise.’
‘Don’t get smart with me, young lady! Is this door bolted?’
‘You just asked me not to tell you that. So I can’t, even though technically it actually might be true.’
‘Lillian!’
Oh-oh… maybe I shouldn’t push her too far.
‘Yes, Aunt, it is bolted.’
‘Then unbolt and open it at once.’
‘Sorry, I can’t do that.’ Quickly, I ripped the waistcoat off and stuffed it under my pillow. Now I was standing half-naked in my room, dressed only in striped trousers, a corset and a top hat which for some reason hadn’t fallen off my head yet. ‘I, err… I am preparing a special look for myself today. You always say how I don't look ladylike enough, don't you? Well, I’m giving it a special effort today, and I want to surprise you.’