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Chapter 6
Tabitha’s Birthday
It just so happened that Tabitha’s birthday occurred only three weeks after her arrival at Great-Aunt Hilsida’s house. Tabitha was quite ready to be 13. Indeed, she had been quite ready for each of her birthday’s to arrive ever since she was three and made the connection between birthday’s and age—one brings in the other, and therefore in Tabitha’s mind, the former was entirely welcome. (Remember, Tabitha had no wish to stay a child, having realized very early that adults have just as much ability to do what they want as a child does, but are much less likely to be yelled at for it).
Every year Tabitha decided on a theme or some new sort of ceremony to bring in her additional year of age—to her mother’s consternation and the despair of the household servants who were expected to make Tabitha’s wishes reality.
When she was four, Tabitha’s wishes were quite simple, consisting of a cake laden with frosting and one of the footmen blowing four times on a silver trumpet. (the particular footman had been chosen especially by Tabitha for his exceptional lung capacity. She had seen him bark his shin against a tea table in the best parlor and his eruption of language afterwards had been both very interesting and very loud. The footman had been horribly embarrassed for this breach of etiquette in front of a family member—he was very new—and had then been completely surprised when this solemn-eyed scrap of a girl strong-armed him into blowing a silver trumpet at her birthday party or she would tell the Butler what had just happened. Completely undone by the combination of embarrassment and terror at what the Butler would do to him, the footman agreed.)
On her fifth birthday party Tabitha insisted on having it outdoors, even though the day was disposed to rain and everything got quite soaked, including the cake.
On her sixth birthday Tabitha decided that purple was the color of the day and that when her cake was brought out she wished to be crowned with a circlet that had six points indicating her years. (her mother secretly worried about what the neighbors would think about Tabitha getting delusions of royalty, but she needn’t have spared a moment of thought for it—they were well-used to Tabitha’s antics by now, as was everyone in their area of town.)
For her seventh birthday party Tabitha forced the entire household to walk around the house seven times; the seventh time throwing flowers and confetti everywhere. (this was exceedingly irritating to the maids and footmen who had to try to sweep it all up afterwards).
Her eighth birthday required white doves with blue ribbons on their necks. The day of the party they all got loose and flew around the house causing havoc and leaving feathers and droppings everywhere until they were all finally caught a few hours later.
On her ninth birthday Tabitha wished to ride in a zeppelin with an enormous 9 painted on its side. This caused Lady Bushfield to go into her famous hysterics at the thought of the danger involved in a zeppelin ride (the heights!) and Tabitha was forced to appeal to Arthur the Tutor to take her instead of her mother. And it really was much more fun to be with Arthur the Tutor high up in the air pointing out famous landmarks and telling her interesting bits of history. All her mother would have done was grip the side of the railing terribly hard and shriek whenever Tabitha moved an inch.
Tabitha’s tenth birthday was a cause for extra celebration as she had finally made it to double digits and was now only a short step away from the ‘teens—and thereby adulthood. Oh, can you imagine the turmoil in the Bushfield residence when Tabitha stated that she needed fireworks in order to fully celebrate this birthday? And that the entire performance must be ten minutes long, culminating in a brilliant display of ten rockets of blue, green, red, yellow, and white crisscrossing their trails and then exploding in sequence? This was a thorough extravagance but fortunately Lady Bushfield had a taste for fireworks and had a few friends who were acquaintances with some of the best choreographers of firework displays on this side of the world (China having long surpassed any others in the art, since it was they who invented it over a thousand years ago).
The eleventh birthday party was almost staid in comparison—a boat ride down the river making eleven stops at certain towns Tabitha had picked off a map.
Her twelfth birthday was marked by a trip to the Opera House (they were playing Mozart’s Don Giovanni). Strictly speaking it just wasn’t done for a young girl of twelve to be seen there, but her father procured a box and as Tabitha was a very well-behaved girl when she chose, none of the other theatre goers knew she was even there.
As it has been seen, throughout her life Tabitha had been denied almost nothing; and until she had been sent to Great-Aunt Hilsida’s she had not truly understood the meaning of ‘simple joys.’ Romping with Wulafric in a field, or skipping stones on the millpond with John the stable boy were heretofore unknown pleasures, and it started to occur to Tabitha that perhaps great fun could be had without great extravagance. Which was about time too, since if she had tried to insist on something to rival past efforts, it would not have been possible and would only have made her and Great-Aunt Hilsida’s servants unhappy.
But it was rather difficult, you see, as this was to be Tabitha’s thirteenth birthday—her first ‘teen. Now that she was so close to being grown up it might have seemed unfair that it wasn’t possible to do it with bells on. If Tabitha had been at home she would doubtless have insisted upon some extravagance like a cake with thirteen layers, a thirteen tiered dais on which to sit, or even a dress with thirteen overlapping fabrics. Possibly all of the above.
Or perhaps she would have requested to sit in on a meeting of the House of Lords—or failing that—the House of Commons. There is little in the world that is more adult-centric than politics, and Tabitha was becoming very interested in adult things.
But what could Tabitha do out here on the moors that could still properly celebrate her entrance into the exalted age of thirteen?
Fear not my good readers, for Tabitha’s genius knows no bounds or budget, or even logical constraint. So she could have asked for all of the above. But because she liked her new friends very much and did not wish to distress them, she decided on a simpler birthday this year. Although simpler—when it comes to Tabitha—is often a relative term. But when she told the servants what she wished, they were not only welcoming to the idea of it, they were also delighted to do something so fun.
For even though Tabitha had resolved to do things much more simply this year, the servants decided to throw a bit of extra effort into it unbeknownst to her. For they had already come to like her very much in the few weeks she had been there—as she put on no airs and was quite content to look after herself for the most part—and moreover the servants were also happy to do it for John’s sake, as they could see he was quite devoted to her.
So on the day of the party the entire household (minus her of course) made their way to the millpond and the surprises that awaited them there.
Because instead of asking to visit the House of Lords (or Commons) or even for a dress with thirteen layers of ruffles, or any other frippery—Tabitha requested that the party be held in thirteen different boats on the millpond.
What a sight it was! The day was grey and threatening rain—then again it almost always was so no one paid too much heed to it—but the small flotilla of rowboats and absurd rafts and even one canoe were gaily decked out with streamers and ribands (thirteen ribbons to each boat of course), and the servants were very set on having a properly fun day as hadn’t been seen in those parts for a very long time.
Tabitha, Wulafric, and John the stableboy were the first to embark in their little boat on the grey waters of the pond. Wulafric wasn’t sure he liked being in a boat (he preferred being out of it and swimming in the water) but Tabitha was insistent that he stay inside it so he sighed and lay curled up by her feet. As soon as John steered their boat to the center of the pond Tabitha carefully stood up and addressed all the other servants on the shore.
“My new friends, thank you all for this wonderful party that you have prepared. I cannot imagine a happier birthday than this! Please join me in my celebration, for I am now Thirteen!”
The servants needed no further urging. Laughing merrily they all piled into their water craft and slowly encircled Tabitha’s boat. As it has been already stated, there were thirteen boats and each of them had a small amount of food tucked into it, along with a different dessert meant to be shared between the guests. The boats companionably jostled against each other as the various food was passed from person to person and there were many calls of, “Pass that over ‘ere, I haven’t ‘ad that yet,” or “Don’t hog all the pudding, leave some for the rest of us,” or, “Any tart left?” And over and over were repeated toasts to Tabitha’s new age and good natured ribbing about how small she still was and how skinny and how she really should eat more of this flan, don’t you think?
For one who had been unaccustomed to such happy raillery until three weeks ago, Tabitha bore it with good grace and even essayed some small darts of her own which caused even more laughter than before as the combatants fired back and forth their well-chosen arrows of wit.
“Here now, give Tabitha that last bit of chocolate cake, she still looks as small as a bird.”
“If I’m as small as a bird, Norris, you must be as large as an elephant. I do believe you eat as much as one, and as often.”
“Now now, Tabitha, don’t speak so harshly to your betters.”
“I won’t. As soon as I find any.” The laughter after that sally could be heard for miles, and perhaps it was that very moment which was the downfall of Tabitha’s party.
But that was to come later. Right now the partygoers were groaning with repletion and leaning back precariously in their seats too stuffed with food to even consider moving. Before too long, however, Tabitha straightened up and announced that now was the time for games. And since they were all in boats (sort of) it would be a wondrous thing to have boat races. The millpond wasn’t quite large enough for all of them to race at the same time but that was hardly an obstacle for Tabitha, who imperiously ordered the servants into groups of three boats each to a race—and she would race the winners of each contest.
The winner of the first race was the Over-gardener, and he beat one of the footmen and two maids quite handily by several yards.
The winner of the second race was Ustin the footman, and his was a much narrower win since his coracle nearly capsized several times but his large arms propelled him so fast he didn’t have time to sink.
The winner of the third race was a bit of a problem. The cook kept complaining that it wasn’t fairly done and they should redo it (she and her kitchen helper had been in the canoe, only there was a problem during the race and they had gone in circles instead of straight, with the cook cursing her girl for not knowing how to steer a canoe) but calmer heads prevailed and the winner was declared to be Rolm and Betsy, keepers of the Gate house.
The winner of the fourth race was a complete surprise. When groups had been assigned everyone had wondered whether or not he would even race, but Roger the butler surprised them all and was halfway across the pond in his rowboat before most of them had even dipped their paddles twice. There were quite a lot of cheers after he won because although he had a sour disposition, no one truly disliked Roger the butler and they were happy to seem him joining in with the fun.
Now all was made ready for the last race: it would be between Tabitha’s boat, The Over-gardener, Rolm and Betsy, and Roger the butler. Tabitha and John set their faces in fierce masks—John’s was determined to win as he certainly couldn’t let Tabitha down on her birthday. The cook prepared to give the signal to start when it happened—the horrible thing that would ruin Tabitha’s wonderful birthday party—She showed up.
Great-Aunt Hilsida stumped up to the side of the millpond. Her dress hem was muddy and her face was tight and disapproving.
“Stop this nonsense at once! At once, do you hear?” No one could fail to hear. Every person on the pond jerked like they were puppets who had had their strings cut. Roger the butler immediately made for the shore nearest Great-Aunt Hilsida and slowly, with various levels of competence, the rest of the servants followed.
Tabitha and John were last of all to reach the shore and even when John jumped out to tug the boat up onto the grass, Tabitha refused to get out. She sat there staring at her Great-Aunt with a look that is hard to describe. An opponent in a duel would recognize this look. A soldier on a battlefield would recognize this look. It spoke of enmity and opposition, resistance and spite.
Great-Aunt Hilsida recognized the look and would have none of it.
“Get out of that ridiculous contraption at once, Tabitha. I will not have you making a fool of yourself in front of the servants. Have you no pride? You will return to the house with me immediately.” When Tabitha did not immediately obey, Great-Aunt Hilsida reached over and hauled her out of the boat, one-handed. Tabitha’s eyes widened at this surprising show of strength, but she allowed no other expression to betray her.
Wulafric, on the other hand, did not like anyone man-handling his person. He rose out of the boat like a grey nightmare—all shaggy hair and white teeth glinting as he growled. Sadly it was more cute than scary. It had been three weeks since their last confrontation (albeit unknown to Great-Aunt Hilsida who wasn’t even aware of his existence) and although he had grown greatly in that time, he was still a small puppy. The fact of his small size did not seem to occur to Great-Aunt Hilsida who stumbled back a few steps, dragging Tabitha with her. With her left hand clamped on Tabitha’s shoulder she used Tabitha as a shield against this apparition while with her right hand she shook her cane at Wulafric.
“Back, get back!” she hissed.
This made Wulafric growl all the more. He advanced a few steps. Great-Aunt Hilsida retreated. He advanced again. Great-Aunt Hilsida, shaking with fury and fear, retreated yet again. She swung her cane wildly at Wulafric, nearly hitting Tabitha several times. Wulafric growled and Great-Aunt Hilsida hissed in response.
Although Tabitha was dubious about the merits of being used as a human shield, there was something amusing about this situation despite its serious nature. She was quite sure that if an appropriate amount of time were to pass, she would even find it quite funny. Perhaps she would even laugh.
“Roger! Fetch the musket from my cabinet and shoot this wild animal! Now, shoot it now!”
The situation was no longer amusing: her dog was being threatened by Her.
No one threatened her dog.
“Great-Aunt Hilsida, unhand me. I am sure this situation can be swiftly dealt with if you were to release me and I took the dog away.” At a very young age Tabitha had learned that there were times to tell the truth, and there were times to achieve your intended goal. Right now was not the time to inform Great-Aunt Hilsida that Wulafric was hers. Now was the time to pretend that Wulafric was a stray dog so that Tabitha could keep him safe.
Great-Aunt Hilsida did not hear her. “Get back! I told you to get back! The gun, the gun, where is the gun?” Admirably reluctant to cause harm to an innocent animal, Roger the Butler had not left at a run for the house and the musket. Somewhere under his hunched shoulders there was a faint hope that this might all come out all right. And in this spirit of hope, Roger the Butler attempted to step in.
Poor Wulafric. Someone had threatened and hurt his person, she was now being held by the bad one (as he thought of her), there was lots of shouting back and forth and he could tell that Tabitha just got really upset about something. So when Roger the Butler moved towards him with the very peaceful intention of either attempting to shoo him off, or pick him up and remove him to some distance, Wulafric interpreted this as an attack and jumped straight at Great-Aunt Hilsida.
The old woman shrieked, and—thrusting Tabitha violently in front of her—slashed the cane at Wulafric, arresting his leap in mid-air and flinging him several feet away where he landed with a whimper.
During all this commotion John had stood motionless with the other servants, but seeing this he ran over to Wulafric and cradled him in his arms. As soon as Tabitha regained her feet she also rushed over to Wulafric and with a trembling hand gently caressed his head. He whined. Tabitha stood up and turned toward Her, hands clenched, her heart full of fury. But Great-Aunt Hilsida was no longer standing there. Neither was Roger the Butler. They had both disappeared.
The other servants used planks off of one of the rafts to make a stretcher to carry Wulafric back to the stable. Throughout all of it Tabitha never left his side, and John never left hers. Once in the safety of the stable they carefully laid Wulafric on the main table. Rolm from the Gatehouse looked him over carefully and with a sigh of relief, told the serious little girl that his ribs were bruised but there was no serious harm done. The air in the stable eased as the servants allowed themselves to finally relax. The small remnants of the birthday feast were brought out for dinner—no one was going back inside the house tonight. It hardly mattered: no one was very hungry. Tabitha and John retired to the loft after gently hauling Wulafric up in a bucket he was getting too large for.
Tabitha and John sat around Wulafric while a desultory murmur from the other servants was the only sound to be heard. John awkwardly twisted a piece of straw between his fingers. Should he say something? He didn’t know what to say. Should he not say anything? But wasn’t he supposed to comfort her? These questions and many more filled his head until he grew dizzy and settled on saying,
“Tabitha—“
But there was a footstep on the ladder. Three heads turned curiously to see who’s head would rise over the floor of the loft. It was Roger the Butler. They had not seem him since his disappearance at the same time as hers. What had actually happened was that right after she hit Wulafric, Roger managed to usher her back to the house with as much speed as possible in order to keep her from injuring the dog any more—or worse, straight out ordering him to kill it. His quick sway-step and her stumbling limp made an interesting sight, but there was no one to see it. And by the time everyone stopped worrying about Wulafric, they had disappeared out of sight. That was over an hour ago. The interval of time had clearly not been kind to Roger. His face bore several scratch marks as well as a black bruise under his left eye.
Roger did not fully climb into the loft, but remained on the ladder as he placed two small packages on the floor.
“She doesn’t know the dog was yours,” was all he said before descending to the ground.
As Tabitha made no move toward them, John reached out and pulled the packages within easy reach. She still didn’t look at them. John pushed them closer to her. It was only when Wulafric started interestedly sniffing at them that she took her attention off of him and read the name on the packages.
“They’re for me,” she said, sounding a little surprised, as though she had forgotten that today was her birthday.
“From who?”
“I don’t know.” Tabitha opened the first package. Inside was a velvet wrapped bundle with a scented note on top. It was from her mother. The note read,
On this your thirteenth birthday my dearest Tabitha, (she only called Tabitha ‘dearest’ when she wished to sound impressive) I wish that you were here to celebrate it with us. But since Destiny has torn you from us, (Destiny, thought Tabitha, I thought you sent me away, not Destiny) I hope you will make the most of what your Great-Aunt Hilsida has to offer you, (the note crumpled a bit in Tabitha’s hands) and that you will not be long from my side! With all my love, Vera Radiance Bushfield.
Tabitha unwrapped the velvet to discover a small set of ivory hair combs chased with silver. They were delicately carved with swirling whorls and Tabitha could almost see a resemblance to the waves in the ocean. Although Tabitha was hardly concerned with her appearance, the combs were rather pretty and she wondered which of the servants had picked them out. It certainly hadn’t been her Mother. They were in too good a taste for that. After showing them to an appreciative John (who would have said anything to make Tabitha smile again) she rewrapped them in the velvet and placed them back in their box.
The second package turned out to be from Arthur the Tutor, and his elegant script made Tabitha feel rather homesick as nothing else in the world could.
Tabitha, he wrote, It will hardly be a month since I saw you last, but be assured I have not stopped thinking of you since I had to leave you at that ghastly place. I fervently hope that it has not been as bad as I feared, and I would be greatly reassured by any note you would send to me. I know you have been long wishing for your thirteenth birthday, Tabitha, so Happy Birthday, and please accept this present from an old tutor who believes he will never again have as bright or as brilliant a pupil. Fare Well, Tabitha. Arthur Valiant Stone.
Brushing away a drop of liquid from her cheek (it was not a tear, Tabitha did not cry) Tabitha opened the small parcel to find a lovely cameo fronted watch on a long chain clearly meant to be worn around the neck. She smiled. It might have been a watery, slightly wistful smile, but it was a smile nonetheless.
She placed the cameo around her neck, holding it for a moment before letting go. When she looked up at John again, there was a third parcel: this one sitting in his lap.
“Happy Birthday, Tabitha. I—hope you like it.” He passed it to her quickly, fumbling a little.
Tabitha opened it with care, as all good endeavors should be undertaken, and when the string had been pulled and the brown paper peeled open, what lay at its heart was a book. It was bottle green with gold embossed letters on the cover which read: ‘A New System of Domestic Cookery: second edition.’ Slightly puzzled, Tabitha looked up at John who was waiting expectantly for her response. Tabitha had no idea what to say. What was she expected to say? What did one say to a friend who had gotten one an entirely strange present? This was her first such experience and like most first experiences, the usual thing happened. An awkward silence fell.
“Thank you,” Tabitha said slowly, after thinking furiously. “I’m sure it’ll be very helpful.”
“Oh, good.” John sighed with relief. The long silence had worried him, but it was all right now.
“Ah, umm, where did you get it?”
“Oh right. Umm, there’s a small shop in the village, they sell all sorts o’ things. And I saw it, and it’s a book, and you’re always reading, so I thought o’ you.”
Tabitha knew that what she said next would probably wipe that sweet shy smile off of John’s face, but being Tabitha, she had to ask. Delicacy was in order.
“John, it’s a wonderful present. I can see why it caught your eye. The title is very descriptive.”
John shifted uneasily. Aha, though Tabitha. Her guess had been correct. This next part would be tricky. But John was braver than she knew.
“Yeah, I saw the gold letters and they looked all nice. What do they say?”
We must pause here to fully appreciate this moment. It has been three weeks since Tabitha and John’s first meeting: three weeks since John fell in love with Tabitha. He had completely devoted himself to her during these three weeks and everything he learned about the small girl made him love her more. And he had become Tabitha’s first and only friend, and she had cherished him for that.
But this moment—this very moment is when Tabitha fell in love with John.
And when she looked at him with that first glimmer of love in her eyes the world around him faded away and all he could see was her. He was so stunned by this revelation that he nearly didn’t hear her say,
“A New System of Domestic Cookery. Second edition.”
But he did hear it. He gave a sort of mortified laugh. “I’m so sorry, Tabitha, I’d no idea—“
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, clutching the book. “I’ll teach you to read with it, if you like.”
“If I’d—Tabitha—I, I’d love to.”
“Good. I’d really love teaching you too. And that’s only the beginning! Once you read English, I can start teaching you French and German and we’ll learn Latin together and there are so many books out there, John, so many wonderful things to learn—“
As Tabitha sat there, words pouring from her lips as she tried to explain just what John had to look forward to in the world of learning, John stared into her bright eyes and rested content in the knowledge that no matter what else happened in his whole life, nothing could be better than this moment.
Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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