Arundel Castle - A Summer To Remember || Kathryn [Closed]

Saturday, July 2, 1921
Laura's Family Estate
3:21 PM

“AAAHHHH!”

The scream echoed through the garden, cleanly piercing the silence that hung in the warm July afternoon. The sound was shrill and desperate, travelling from one end to the other.

Kathryn never flinched. The little girl remained kneeling in the grass by the flower bed containing delicate, pink peonies. She was careful not to get near the dirt, wanting to avoid the inevitable stains forming on her bone white stockings. In her hands was the creature that caused the commotion, a starling with shimmering blue feathers and milky, unfocused eyes.

The ants had found it before she could, tiny troops now scattered in the earth, uncertain of where their conquest had gone. The few that had come with the bird crawled along her matching silk gloves, their black bodies a stark contrast to the fabric. Gentle but precise fingers brushed them away, banishing them back to the soil while she had her own look.

No obvious signs of injury. Perhaps it had been sick. Kate stared, transfixed. Inside her, she felt a stirring. It was too subtle to be identified, manifesting as…a pinching near her chest. How strange. The little girl didn’t know the bird and had spent no time caring for it but she couldn’t shake the sense of loss that bubbled inside her chest. Kneeling there, she interrogated the feeling. There was nothing magic about the bird that might be affecting her mood and birds were not her favourite animal. She hadn’t been the one to kill it, so why should she shoulder this grief?

Was it grief? The longer she stared, the harder it became to tell. The line between sorrow and curiosity blurred imperceptibly until it became too difficult for the small child to decide whether the urges within her prompted her to bury and eulogise the fallen creature or cut it open to see what had happened.

Her impulse gave her pause, leaving her stationery in the grass. Kathryn allowed herself to ponder whether the other girls would want to cut it open. Would they care to give it proper rest? What was the correct answer to such a serendipitous moment?

She doubted it, in the end. The other girls, Laura, Marjorie, Evelyn and Dorothy, couldn’t be more different from her than the day was from the night. From the moment she’d been dropped off for this…playdate, their worlds had immediately diverged. It didn’t make sense. Kathryn dressed as nicely as they did—even nicer than either Dorothy or Evelyn, in truth. The material that made her dress was imported silk, breezy for the summer weather, embroidered at the ends with little threads of fine silver. Her shoes were fresh out of the box, as Laura’s were, both apparently small gifts for the event.

But that was where it ended.

The four giggled infectiously, causing the eyes of the adults around them to shimmer. They ran about; their hair wind swept without a care for keeping each strand in place. They chattered non-stop, each moment filled with wild and impossible stories, talk of tea parties, the silliness of boys…—dolls. They most enjoyed talking about their dolls. Each had given theirs a name, carrying them about everywhere ‘adventure’ took them.

She didn’t have a doll. It hadn’t occurred to her she would need one but now it was clear that every little girl needed a doll, one that matched her hair and eye colour so it could be her ‘baby’. The doll needed several changes of clothing and must must must get along with the others.

How they knew the dolls got along was anyone’s guess. They didn’t talk, like her. The other girls didn’t like that, Laura most of all. She’d tried asking questions, probing, prodding and had been met with the same impassive stare that all who’d gone before her had received.

Her gracious host had grown short with Kathryn when the little blonde had been given the role of the bumbling prince and had refused to deliver her lines. Their little game of make believe fell apart when it became evident the ‘prince’ would not be declaring his undying love for her majesty then giving her a piggyback across the lawn to the demeaning giggles of her ladies in wait.

They didn’t want to read her notebook, either.

She hadn’t meant to hear but Marjorie still had trouble with her letters at the big age of ten. They mocked Kathryn instead, jeering each time she tried to reach into her small satchel for her quill. They were the few moments she felt she could contribute to their often-unfathomable conversations—a line here or there that she felt confident enough to share. They only scoffed, insisting no one had the time.

Worse, they laughed.

“She’s taking out that stupid quill again.”

“Gods, there she goes again with her notebook. Just say something if you’re really not dumb like Mother says. How come you can’t even say a word?”

“Maybe she is dumb. Elizabeth’s cousin is, too. She says her mother never invites him to the really important parties.”

The most humiliating had been the tantrum that had seen them into the garden in the first place. It was Laura’s turn to be blindfolded in their game of ‘Blind Man’s Buff’ and the quick-tempered girl had grown angry at not being able to catch anyone. Frustrated, she’d ripped her blindfold off only to discover Kathryn had only been steps from her the entire time. The little girl flew into a rage, accusing her of ruining the game because she hadn’t said a word. She’d shoved her, yelling at her for being a 'cheater'.

By the time it was her turn, Kate was certain she no longer wanted to play. Robbed of her sense of sight, she’d been left to the mercy of the girls and their cruel games. They remained quiet, later insisting they were only giving her a taste of her own medicine. They poked and swatted her with switches they’d broken off from Laura’s mother’s once perfectly manicured hedges before running off again in fits of giggles.

Her turn ended when Evelyn crept up behind her and shoved her forward, causing grass stains across her baby powder blue dress.

It was Marjorie’s turn to be the blind man and that was when Kathryn had ventured further into the garden, determined to not spend another moment on such barbaric sport. They were having fun. She had wanted to have fun. None of it was…fun.

Dorothy was the one who’d run off screaming. The raven-haired girl with her pale eyes had run into Kate while trying to avoid her blind friend. All thoughts of the game vanished when she caught her kneeling with the bird in hand. Curious at first, she’d drifted closer, thinking Kathryn similar to some forest faerie from muggle tales, one that could speak with animals. The horror etched into her face spoke to the sudden change in her beliefs.

Blue eyes washed over the bird another time, not inclined to follow and return to their brutish game.

“I’m not lying! She snapped its neck! I saw her!”

“What’s wrong with her?”

The four girls found her now, Laura leading the charge despite her obvious fear. When they entered that small section of the garden and found the dead bird in Kathryn's hands, not one stopped to ask a question. Each shoved at each other, scrambling to go back the way they’d come.

None spoke to her for that last half hour of the playdate. They crowded in Laura’s playroom, hosting the tea party they’d so eagerly chatted about from the moment they’d all arrived. Their dolls attended. Porcelain beauties with unblinking eyes, their stoicism more acceptable than hers.

“Kathryn.” Laura’s mother called her name stiffly as she came to a stop in the doorway. “Ensure you have your things; your mother’s here to collect you.”

The little girl rose from the place she’d been relegated to in the corner. To say she was relieved wouldn’t have done justice to the sudden flood of emotion that poured into her, too big and too overwhelming to name. With both hands clutching the strap of her bag, she moved toward the door but stopped halfway. Turning, she offered them all a rigid wave, remembering it was good to bid farewell to friends before departing. She may have tried to kiss their cheeks as she’d seen her mother doing, but none had allowed her near them since the garden.

This was all she could offer.

Disdainful stares were all they gave in reply.

Kathryn turned to follow Mrs. Cavendish out to the foyer, her new little friend tucked safely into her bag for safe keeping until she could be sure of what she felt. Perhaps her mother would be more interested in taking a look with her.

“Had a good time, Little?” her mother asked, pulling her close to place a kiss atop her head. She took in Kate’s expression, her own growing hopeful at the signs of little stains here and there about her child. There was hope there, hope that Kathryn had played. Hope that Kathryn had allowed herself to let go long enough to remember the joys of childhood.

Kate looked away, unwilling to answer such hope with anything but shame. She’d tried her best but…she didn’t think her new friends were particularly fond of her. They didn’t like the way she played or the way she ‘spoke’. She didn’t have a doll like they did—it didn’t have a name. It was all so wrong, every second of it.

Her wave. It had been too stiff. It was no wonder they hadn’t responded. More fluidity in the joint of her wrist, lengthening the action so it could settle. Could she go back and wave to them again? Would it matter?

“She had a grand time,” Mrs. Cavendish assured. The woman hesitated; certain she was about to cause offence but willing to do so anyway. “However…I don’t think that Kathryn is…the right fit—she’s a lovely girl, was no trouble at all but…the other girls…it might be best if…she not attend the next one on the 17th. You understand, don’t you?”

“I see,” her mother replied, gently caressing her golden locks, tied so neatly into place. Her words were soft, but deliberate, possessing a cutting edge beneath the serenity. Julia Laurence smiled but it offered Mrs. Cavendish no comfort. “A shame and I was so looking forward to seeing you at the Governor’s Gala. James had said there were a few things he wanted to discuss with your husband. A project down in…Devon, was it? But it seems you might not be the right fit. You understand, don’t you?” she finished, her lips curling upward, the embodiment of polite society with polish and grace.

Mrs. Cavendish inhaled softly, trying to steady herself against the thinly veiled threat. “Julia, it’s not like that.”

“Of course, it isn’t, darling. I understand, just as you understand.”

“The girls…”

“Were hoping to have good matches when they were older?”

“Julia!”

Kathryn’s gaze oscillated between the pair. The little girl was acutely aware of a dance that had begun, without having any real understanding of its rules. The foyer went silent, the women sequestered off in their own world, gazes locked.

A pause.

A breath.

“We look forward to seeing her on the 17th—don’t forget the theme is lilac.”

“She can’t wait to see all her friends again. I’m sure she’ll have nothing but good things to tell when we get home. Come along, Little.”

Sunday, July 17, 1921
Laura's Family Estate
3:37 PM

“He’s SO CUTE!”

“I want to hold him!”

“It’s my turn!”

“Well, it’s my playdate and my house!”

The girls pulled and tugged at the black cat, fussing over whose baby he got to be next. It was her mother’s idea to have Mr. Maddox come along. No one had explained why, not beyond letting her know he would be keeping her company. Kathryn thought it strange. The girls were meant to be her company, weren’t they? It was why she’d been dropped off at Laura’s again. Her mother had said that it would be good for her to make friends of her own instead of spending all her time with her and her older friends.

If they were her friends now, then Mr. Maddox was already stealing them. The merry quartet greeted the cat with a level of warmth and enthusiasm that they had never bothered to show her. They cradled him, made little kissy faces at him—much to his displeasure—and refused to let him go when he began to hiss and wiggle.

Kathryn watched on, not offended in the slightest by the disparity in their reception but morbidly curious of the scene playing out. They didn’t know he was a grown man who could turn into a dragon and swallow them whole; otherwise, they wouldn’t dare handle him so roughly.

The little girl was certain that, should they become aware of the danger they were in, they would leave him be, as he’d been trying to get them to do for the last half hour.

Kathryn felt…proud. There was something that only she knew, a secret just for her. For once, she was in on the joke, a participant in her silence rather than a bystander in the street.
It didn’t take long for the tables to turn. Kathryn Elise was too good a joke not to tell. When the girls grew tired of their new pet, their attentions returned to the girl who’d managed to remain outside of their gazes for as long as she had.

Laura said it was their new game they’d invented.

Find the quill.

While Kate had gone to the bathroom, the girls had searched her bag and taken her enchanted quill. She returned to the four giggling uncontrollably as they waited for her to notice. That hadn’t taken long. Kathryn noticed at once the disturbed state of her bag and hurried to check that everything was there. She paled at the absence of her quill, turning and wanting to ask where they’d put it, but her lips were lead.

As a rule, the more flustered she became, the heavier her tongue became.

Her distress caused the giggles to intensify, but finally, Laura managed to contain herself.

“I hid it and I’m the only one who knows where it is. All you have to do is find it before any of the girls do. Finder’s keepers, so you better hurry.” The little girl paced the floor of her playroom, her index finger pressed playfully against her chin. “I heard Dorothy’s wanted one of her own. Go!”

Without any warning Kathryn could decipher, Evelyn, Marjorie and Dorothy shot past her, shoving her out of the way on their way out.

Kate remained standing in the middle of the room, frozen in place by some invisible force. The small blonde’s eyes watered. Her core crumbled. She didn’t want to play this game. She didn’t want to lose her quill. There was nothing she had gathered in the time she spent with these ‘friends’ that indicated Laura was only joking. Dorothy would find it, and then she would have to tell her mother it was gone.

She had to move, but Kate couldn’t feel her feet. They’d gone numb, as did the rest of her, every inch of her except her lungs that burned. The acute stab in her chest finally alerted her to the fact she hadn’t been breathing. She inhaled sharply, an action that only brought her company to another fit of merry laughter.

“You’ll never find it if you just stand there.”

She…she had to move.

“Oi! When did you become deaf? It’s no fun if you just stand around.” She reached out, nudging Kate in an attempt to make her move but it was as if the little girl’s feet were planted beneath the wooden floorboards.

Laura sighed. “You’re no fun with anything!” She shoved her with more urgency. “It’s upstairs, in Mother’s solar—go already. I bet Marjorie’s already halfway—”

The door swung open a crack, enough to allow entry to a certain black cat. Mr. Maddox padded across the room, his motion lithe and languorous as he moved to join the girls. In his mouth was a quill, salmon in colour with soft, decorative feathers. He plopped himself down at Kate’s feet, dropping the quill before him.

“Bad cat! No, that’s cheating!” Laura chided. “No helping. She has to find it on her own, or it doesn’t count!”

The tyrant of a girl stooped furiously to collect the quill but was forced to stagger back when the feline hissed with the kind of aggression that brokered no room for argument. He moved to sit himself between the quill and the girl, hissing a second time to ensure he got the point across.

The grumpy cat was in no mood for the shenanigans of little girls.

Laura scrambled back to her feet with a huff. Wordlessly, she stomped her way from the room, off to find her friends and forget the shame of being put in her place by an otherwise unassuming cat.
Kate watched her go before bending to retrieve her quill. She clutched it against her chest, staring through the open door and listening to the fleeting sounds of her friend’s angry footsteps. At her feet, she felt something warm rub against her. She grimaced automatically, thinking of all the fur that would come off on her stockings, but where she might have nudged him away before, Kathryn found herself…grateful. Not enough to let him continue, but enough to not punt him across the room.

Instead, she reached down to give him an awkward scratch behind the ear in silent show of her gratitude.