‘Come, quickly. I’ve something to show you.’
Essie grabbed the twins’ hands and followed Miss Barnes as she took off up the path to the Royal Observatory. The hill was steep and planted with pockets of oak and linden trees. Only when the path took a sharp turn could everyone catch a glimpse of the famous dome and the red time ball perched on a turret above the grand Flamsteed House.
Miss Barnes checked her watch again. ‘Hurry. Stand here, class.’ The teacher shepherded them against a tall wall and Essie could feel the summer heat on the stones through her pinafore.
‘Now, watch,’ said Miss Barnes as she pointed to the giant red ball and they watched it rise slowly up the mast before dropping suddenly to the bottom.
Maggie and Flora gave a cheer and Miss Barnes looked at her watch. ‘One p.m. Greenwich Mean Time. I come every year just to check this old thing works.’
Essie turned to look back down the hill and across to the Thames, thinking of all the Londoners, boatmen and sailors who were checking their own watches against the red ball. Everyone moving about the boroughs doing their daily business and all those who came ashore to bring goods from countries far away were threaded together by this instant. She gazed back up the hill to the towering Flamsteed House and the giant red ball and imagined lines from this point stretched out to distant lands across the globe like black threads. Meridian lines spread around the globe from this very spot.
She thought again of the rivers of jewels she’d seen in Cheapside. Emeralds, pearls and gold necklaces. Gertie’s button. When were they buried deep in that cellar? Who would bury such treasures and never return? Essie recalled the words of kindly Mr Lawrence: Each piece is the story of a person. How did they come to own it? How did they use it? What did it mean to them—how did it change their life?
The Thames to her right was obscured by a park, beyond which a power station with towering chimney stacks spewed smoke into the sky. If she followed the line of the river back towards London, the far side was dotted with so many chimney stacks that they looked like matchsticks disappearing into the haze.
Directly in front of her was the naval college built in a neat grid. The park they stood in was a gradual green slope running up from the shore to the Observatory. Men in top hats promenaded with women in long fitted silk jackets and matching hats. Essie looked at the twins, studying their sallow skin and sunken eyes, and was grateful their shrivelled legs didn’t stop them playing a game of hide-and-seek among the trees with a handful of their classmates.
Essie, Miss Barnes and Gertie unfolded blankets and unpacked sandwiches for the children.
‘Cheese and pickles—what a treat!’ said Gertie. ‘Food!’ she yelled, and the children came running, plucking at sandwiches and pushing them into their mouths before running back into the woods to resume their game.
‘There’s not a bit of crust left for the gulls,’ said Miss Barnes. ‘I should have brought more sandwiches …’ She looked disappointed, and Essie realised that lunch had been provided thanks to the generosity of Miss Barnes, not the school.
When the children had tired of hide-and-seek and had returned to lie on the grass and blankets with their faces turned up to the sun, Essie and Miss Barnes wandered down the hill arm in arm with Gertie.
‘Miss Murphy!’ Essie turned at the sound of her name and, to her surprise, recognised the striking young foreman with green eyes whom she had met at Cheapside nine days ago.
Shocked, she blinked twice to check it was indeed him, and quickly started to smooth her skirts as her legs trembled a little. She’d thought of him every day since that meeting. She hadn’t replied to his note, of course. What would she have said?
He jogged up the path to meet her, panting, then removed his boater hat as a greeting.
‘Miss Murphy, I picked you at once. And this must be your sister—you could be twins!’
‘Not likely.’ Gertie said as she blushed and elbowed Essie in the ribs. The corners of her mouth tucked into a shy smile and Essie gave him her hand to shake.
‘This is my sister, Gertrude,’ said Essie. ‘And her teacher, Miss Barnes. Meet Mr Hepplestone.’
She paused, fishing for things to say. ‘We’ve just been for a look at the Observatory.’
‘I’m sorry I missed you. I was on the way up myself. Who accompanied you?’
‘The school.’ Essie tugged her skirt lower to cover her shoes.
‘An annual outing,’ Miss Barnes explained. ‘We like our students to experience the Observatory.’
Mr Hepplestone gestured to where a black motor vehicle was parked on the edge of the lawn. ‘I thought it was a lovely day to take my new toy for a spin. Test the engine.’ He looked proudly over his shoulder at the gleaming vehicle before he started to walk down the hill with them. Essie’s stomach sank as she realised that a drive with Mr Hepplestone was even less likely than attending a women’s march at the Monument.
The twins came running up, wrapping themselves around Essie’s skirt. Maggie’s ribbons were undone and Flora’s dress had grass stains right down her back. Both their little cheeks were so pink with the sun and activity, Essie wished she could race back up to the top of the Observatory and stop time—to hold this moment forever.
‘Who are you?’ asked Flora, while Maggie stood back and coughed from the exertion of her run.
The foreman removed his hat and gave a little bow, dipping his head. ‘I’m Mr Hepplestone. I work with your brother Freddie.’
‘He’s not here,’ said Flora brashly.
‘Flora!’ said Essie.
Before Essie could continue scolding, a fiddler started to play and they were surrounded by a troupe of juggling clowns. Bright red noses matched the ball at the top of the observatory and the little girls started to spin to the music.
The tallest clown stepped forwards and pulled a chestnut from behind Flora’s ear. Maggie’s mouth fell open as she tugged on her own ear in a frantic search for a treat.
The same clown reached for the ground as if bending to tie Maggie’s laces, and produced a coin from the hem of her skirt. Maggie jumped up and down, clapping her hands as the clown tucked the penny away into his vest pocket.
The clowns moved on, trailed by clowns on stilts playing accordions, and others cartwheeling and doing backflips across the smooth grass.
Essie and Mr Hepplestone soon found themselves separated from the others as clowns stomped and juggled between them.
‘May I be honest with you, Miss Murphy?’ said Mr Hepplestone as he stopped walking and turned to face her.
‘Of course,’ said Essie. She was moving into unfamiliar territory and she wasn’t sure how to proceed.
‘I was hoping to bump into you. I overheard Freddie and Danny talking about you helping with the children at Greenwich Observatory today, and so I thought …’ He’d turned a little pink in the sun. He cocked his head sideways, green eyes twinkling and teasing.
Essie’s heart quickened. Could it be true? Had he really motored out to Greenwich just so he could bump into her? More likely it was a coincidence and he was just trying to flatter her … But when she looked from under the brim of her hat, he was still gazing right at her.
They walked down the path, the sun on her face and butterflies floating with the breeze. At the bottom of the hill stood a black Clydesdale, twitching his tail in the sun and eyeing the world from under drooping eyelids. Attached to the horse was a wooden ice-cream cart manned by a smiling fellow with thick black curls, a moustache and a pink candy-striped vest and matching boater.