This is a short story I wrote for english coursework 2 years ago. Unfortunately it wasn't accepted because it was too far over the word limit but anyway!
EDWARD
It was April when Charlotte’s mother eventually shut Charlotte in. What had been a happy Christmas had turned into a dreary spring. The days of snowmen and toboggans had past and left Charlotte and her family trapped indoors with all windows shut firmly against the torrential spring showers.
Unable to escape her mother by going outside, Charlotte was forced to endure hours of lectures about how to be a respected Victorian lady, hours walking around trying to balance a book on her head and trying to paint the subdued perfect pictures that were expected by everyone of her class. Charlotte’s maid and best friend Beth was now being forced to call her ‘Miss’. New dresses had been bought, ones for young ladies now, with longer skirts and ruffles and Charlottes hair had to be tied up too.
Charlotte could vividly remember last summer when her brother Edward, whom she loved so much, had taught her to climb trees and build dens in the warm days. She could remember racing down hills and walking through woods and even the time Edward had fallen out of a tree and hurt his arm.
Now that she was nearly eleven, tomboy games where no longer suitable. Her father, whom she rarely saw, had stopped sticking up for her and she had been deprived once more at Christmas of her wish to have a bicycle.
Charlotte was still half-heartedly fighting her mother’s attempts to tame her. Maybe this birthday, in May, she might get a bicycle. Maybe, just maybe, her parents would give in.
* * *
Charlotte shut the window and sat down on her bed. The rain had stopped, but the dark looming clouds still pressed close to the tops of the trees like a dark heavy blanket. ‘Only a day now,’ she thought, ‘only a day until I’m eleven,’ but she had given up hope of getting a bicycle. Charlotte’s mother was angry with her for making it hard to try and educate her and Charlotte had seen no secretive smiles suggestive of a surprise.
The only person who was kind to her was Beth, and her brother, of course, but he had been sent off to school and she would only see him again when Christmas came. Charlotte felt like crying then, as she had when he had left, and sure enough, a few pearly tears welled up in her eyes and slid silently down her cheek. She stifled her sobs and dried her eyes. What was the use in crying? Crying wouldn’t get her brother back. Crying wouldn’t get her a bicycle. Crying wouldn’t even stop her mother prodding and poking her into being a normal boring person.
Beth entered the room, carrying a pile of clean laundry. She sat down beside Charlotte and smiled.
“Why are you looking so down Char… Miss. Its your birthday tomorrow?” She asked.
“Oh Beth.” Charlotte couldn’t stop the tears now. She buried her head in Beth’s shoulder.
“Hush,” Beth said. ”Please Miss Charlotte, don’t cry. Look, listen. I have something to show you.” Charlotte looked up, tears still streaming down her face.
“I miss Edward,” She said simply.
“Come,” Said Beth, in return.
* * *
Darkness was approaching as they crept out of doors. Beth beckoned for Charlotte to follow her. They silently crept across the grounds. Beth was heading towards the woods a little distance from the house. Charlotte blandly followed. They were lucky the rain had stopped, but the ground was wet and muddy and as the neat lawns turned into longer grass their boots and skirts began to get steadily wetter and dirtier.
As they entered the woods it began to rain again. Neither girl noticed. A little way through the trees, Beth stopped and covered Charlotte’s eyes.
“It’s a surprise,” explained Beth. And they carried on, slightly awkwardly now. Then Beth stopped again and uncovered Charlotte’s eyes. They had arrived at the edge of a small clearing. The darkness had increased and so had the rain. It was falling faster now, sending patterns of circles rippling across the deep puddles that littered the ground. Myriad raindrops balanced everywhere and as the moon peered through a gap in the clouds, they glinted like diamonds on the trees.
On the other side of the clearing, a boneshaker bicycle leaned against a tree.
Charlotte gasped. “Beth… how… oh thank, thank you!” She walked over to the bike, her skirts trailing in the mud. She reached out to touch the bicycle, caressing the handle. It was rusty and old, but Charlotte didn’t care. She turned round and ran towards Beth, who was still standing, smiling, at the edge of the clearing.
Charlotte threw her arms around Beth, thanking her continually. It was still raining hard and they, and their clothes were saturated with water. Thunder was beginning to rumble in the sky and flickers of white blue light told them that lightning was approaching too.
They turned to leave, both girls tired and wet but full of joy.
“Do you think it will be safe?” asked Charlotte, anxiously.
“There isn’t another village for miles and miles,” said Beth.
“And from my family?”
“They won’t find it here.” and with that they trudged back to the house, slipping through the servants’ door and into their rooms.
* * *
Next morning all hint of rain had gone from the sky, leaving it clear and bright as a sapphire. The only reminder on the ground was a million glittering raindrops on the grass, winking in the sun. Birds sang sweetly and it was only for a second when Charlotte awoke that she felt miserable. In a moment, memories had come flooding back and she was smiling again.
Beth waltzed in soon after she had woken up and hugged her.
“Sorry,” she said, “But I gave my birthday present to you yesterday, so I have nothing to give you today.”
“I wouldn’t mind if I never got another present ever again,” exclaimed Charlotte, standing up. “You have given me my only wish!” Beth blushed.
“I am glad you appreciate it,” she said, meekly. “Now what are you going to wear today, Miss? It’s your birthday so you must look lovely and I’ve washed all your best dresses.” They began to search through the wardrobe, putting aside each dress in turn.
At last a dress the colour of the sky was selected and put on, then they both went downstairs.
Charlotte had a strong desire to please everyone that day, an urge to make people feel at least some small part of the joy she felt now. So she worked hard on using some of the skills her mother had been trying to teach her and to exclaim loudly over presents which she didn’t care much for.
Eventually, in the afternoon, the grown ups retired to their rooms for a siesta. It was a warm day and there was a definite feel of summer in the air. Charlotte changed quickly into her comfiest dress and together she and Beth strode into the wood where the bike remained, now dry, in the little clearing.
Charlotte was eager to try and ride the bicycle now. She swung her leg over the other side, placed it on the pedal and pushed off. The bicycle moved forward feebly, wavered for a second then toppled over.
Charlotte got up; looking startled, and then began to laugh. Beth laughed to and soon they were both in hysterics. After they had managed to calm down they began trying to ride the bicycle again. This time Beth held it, making sure it was steady, and moving alongside Charlotte, still holding on, as she pedalled across the clearing.
From this day on it became warmer, crisp spring turning into a balmy summer. Almost all Charlotte and Beth’s time was spent outside. Slowly but steadily mastering the skill of staying upright on the moving bike. They both took it in turns, each holding it firm for the other as they learnt. Soon they were moving farther afield, riding it without support across the emerald fields.
Sometimes they took food from the kitchens and stayed out for a whole day. Usually Charlotte would ride and Beth would run along beside until they found a nice picnic spot. There they would stop, eat and talk before heading back for home.
But this summer, like every other, gradually faded away. The bright green leaves turned red and gold and the warmth leached out of the suns rays. Soon, rain had returned, washing away the very last parts of summer. After that only memories remained, something that couldn’t be washed away by mere water.
Charlotte’s mood began to reflect the weather, grim and grey. The only thing that she looked forward to was the return of her brother for Christmas. She had been sending him plenty of letters and he replied just as much but she was desperate to speak to him face to face. The cold was beginning to get more intense now, thick frost coated the grass every morning and occasionally soft white flakes fell from the hard grey sky.
Christmas began to creep in to the house when December came. Decorations where hung up around the house and a large Christmas tree soon stood in the drawing room.
Edward arrived five days before Christmas and his coming certainly put more spirit in the air. Charlotte was overjoyed that he had returned and sat and played chess and draughts with him for hours on end, Beth observing quietly from the side. Charlotte and Beth told him all about the bicycle and he listened patiently to everything they said and then told them all about being away at school.
Christmas passed in a flurry of excitement, presents and snow. Numerous snowmen appeared in the garden, clumps of them standing here and there, carrot noses protruding vibrantly from their faces.
In January, however, Edward caught a bad cold and was advised to stay indoors and more snow eventually made it impossible for anyone to go outside. Violent storms followed bringing even more snow. This meant Charlotte’s father would have to stay in London, as the chaise would not be able to traverse the hard tracks in this weather.
The family now had no contact at all with the outside world. Charlotte’s father had taken the only horse and cart and there was no other transport left.
So it was bad timing, in the midst of the snowstorms, for Edward to fall ill. It was not serious at first but each day he got steadily worse and the snow showed no sign of clearing. Charlotte spent most of her time by his bedside, talking to him, but he did not reply much anymore.
One night Charlotte awoke when all was black. The wind was howling and hail was sieging the house, battering on windows and walls. Charlotte knew that she would not get back to sleep so she put on her dressing gown and lit a candle. She tiptoed quietly towards her brother’s room. When she got there she was surprised to see the flickering of a candle shining through the door.
She sped up, heart hammering, and entered the room. Beth and Charlotte’s mother were sitting at Edward’s bedside looking exhausted. Beth was sponging Edward’s forehead frantically. Edward was waxy pale, tossing and turning, tangled in his sheets. His breathing was unnaturally shallow. Charlotte’s heart began to beat harder and her throat felt oddly constricted. She put the candle down and rushed to his bedside.
There were tear tracks on her mothers face. Charlotte had never seen her mother cry and the sight made Charlotte start crying too. Her mother drew her into a warm hug, whispering in her ear.
“I’m sorry Charlotte… Without a doctor there’s really no hope… And we’ve no way of getting one.” Charlotte began to cry harder but Beth had sharply drawn in her breath.
“Charlotte!” She cried, “Your bicycle, you can ride your bicycle.” Charlotte froze. Riding a bicycle through snowdrifts sounded like a crazy thing to do. Still, if it might save her brother she was willing to try.
“Bicycle… What?.. Charlotte?” asked her mother, but Charlotte had already made for the door. As she reached it she turned back to look at Edward, trying to shut out the thought that the next time she saw him he might be… she forced dreadful images out of her mind and sped on. She changed into warm clothes and boots as quickly as she could then tried to run towards the woods. Walking was hard but once she had found the bicycle it was easier.
She swung her leg over one side and pushed off. She was slightly wobbly at first, having not ridden since the summer but soon she became steadier.
The same constant thought kept flashing through her mind as silver landscapes flew past. What if he’s dying now? What if I don’t get there in time? And then she would try to cycle even faster, tears welling up in her eyes. Her eyes were watering anyway, though, from the ice-cold wind that seemed to drive at her like knives.
She knew the way to the town and she knew were the doctor she liked lived, the one who had come when Edward had fallen out of the tree, and it was lucky she did as one bleak white snow drift looks very like another, especially on wide wintry moors. She could see lights ahead now and the ground was becoming more even. Charlotte thought her face had frozen off and even her mittened hands were cold.
Charlotte had entered the outskirts of the village but didn’t slow. She skidded around corners and across roads. Finally she stopped on the street were she knew the doctor lived. She leapt off the bike letting it clatter to the ground, then hitched up her skirts and ran up and down the street, frantically searching for the right door. When she found it she hammered hard and then collapsed against then doorframe, gasping for breath. Please let him stay alive. Please let him hold on. Charlotte was whispering prayers to God and to Jesus and Mary and silent pleas to any other gods that might be listening and willing to help.
A light flickered on upstairs. She hammered again and after a moment she heard the bolt slide back and a familiar kindly face appeared.
“My brother!” she cried, “Edward. You’ve got to come.” He hastily grabbed his coat and a large bag sitting on a chair and came outside. When the doctor saw the bicycle lying by the side of the road he stared at her.
“You didn’t cycle all the way here did you?” he asked, astonished.
“Yes, but there is no time.” She pleaded. “Quick!”
The chaise was ready and they got up onto the seat at the front. They set off quickly, the horse’s hooves clattering on the cobbled streets. It was a race against time, against death. Charlotte couldn’t bear the thought of coming back to see them all weeping, gathered round his bed. She tried to push the haunting images out of her mind, Edward… still… too still, white.
Charlotte began to shiver uncontrollably, but she new they were getting near. There was a flickering light in the distance… Edward’s room.
They skidded to a halt in front of the house and ran inside. Charlotte sprinted as fast as she could towards her lovely brother’s room. She felt she was running faster than she had ever run before and yet the endless doors and corridors seemed to move past slower than they should, as though time was reluctant to move on, lingering on these dark few moments.
Charlotte stopped dead on the threshold of Edward’s room and stood there for a moment. The lights where behaving oddly… light, dark, light... She could feel a tingling in the tips of her fingers… then… darkness.
* * *
Charlotte woke in a warm bed cuddled up to a warm sleeping figure. It was a boy, a boy who looked exactly like her. Same hair, same eyes… and it was a living, breathing figure… her Edward.
THE END
