At the word 'friend', my aunt nearly burst into flames from indignation.

It wasn’t long till we reached home. Sir Philip’s departure then happened a lot more speedily than usual. He needed to leave to buy flowers for Lady Katherine, and my aunt needed to retreat to her room to simmer with rage at the inconstancy of young aristocrats.

‘Farewell, you all,’ he called to us, sticking his head out of the coach window and lifting his hat in parting a last time, an excited smile on his face. ‘I shall hope to see you all at my next ball. You are all invited.’ And, turning to the coachman: ‘Onward! Find me the nearest florist, man!’

‘Yes, Sir!’

The whip cracked, and the coach rolled off down the street.

My aunt was already in the house, as could be deduced from the sound of crashing china from somewhere on the first floor. Lisbeth and Gertrude were on their way to follow; Edmund had excused himself. Only Ella, Maria, Anne and I were still standing outside, looking after the coach.

‘Well,’ Maria sneered, giving Ella a superior look. ‘It seems you are one suitor short, little sister.’

‘Yes!’ Ella sighed, a happy smile suffusing her features. ‘Will you excuse me? I have, um… things to do.’

Pirouetting around like an overexcited ballerina, she hurried off around the house, into the back garden. I thought I had an inkling what ‘things’ she had to do, and with whom.

‘Is it only me,’ Maria asked, confused, looking at Anne and me in turn, ‘or did she seem not the least bit disappointed about losing one of the most eligible bachelors in London as a potential husband?’

‘Of course she was disappointed,’ I said. ‘Couldn’t you tell by the way her left little finger twitched? That always gives people away. Now, if you will excuse me, I think I have the sudden urge to take a late night stroll in the garden…’

‘Oh, Ella, my love!’

‘Oh, Edmund, my love!’

As sweet nothings fluttered through the holes in the fence, I settled myself comfortably down behind the bushes. Seeing as this might be a longer episode of the romantic Drama of the Back Garden, I had brought a copy of The Further Adventures of Robinson Crusoe with me. For now, though, it remained closed, and I peeked through the foliage towards the place where Ella was clinging to the fence and, through the fence, to Edmund. It had to be quite uncomfortable embracing somebody around several metal bars, but neither of them seemed to mind.

My eyes strayed to the ladder leaning against the garden shed. Still, neither of them seemed to have noticed it, or thought of using it.

‘Oh, Ella, my love,’ Edmund whispered. ‘How can this be? How can I be so fortunate to be holding you in my arms tonight, when I thought that by now I would have lost you forever?’

‘We must have a guardian angel watching over us from heaven,’ she whispered, pressing her face into his chest as best she could.

From heaven? From behind the bushes, rather.

But otherwise, she had hit the nail pretty much on the head.

‘Tell me this is true,’ Edmund sighed. ‘Tell me I am truly holding you right now, and it is not some phantasm I have dreamed up in my desperation of losing you to another.’

‘It is true, Edmund, my darling. I am here. I will always be here. I love you!’

‘I love you, too!’

‘I love you more!’

‘No, I do!’

I tuned out their conversation and immersed myself in The Further Adventures. I only resurfaced from my adventures in Madagascar when, out the blue, I heard my name.

‘…Lilly!’

‘Yes, my darling Ella. Your sister…’ Edmund murmured.

I was up on my feet and listening intensely in an instant! They were talking about me? What the heck did they have to talk about me?

Edmund was smiling. ‘So I finally met her.’

‘What did you think of her?’ Ella asked anxiously.

I leaned forward, pricking up my ears.

Yes? Yes? What did you think of me? And be careful what you say, you little piano-tuning bastard! I have a sharp parasol!

‘What do I think of her?’ Edmund laughed. ‘Ella, if not for her, I wouldn’t even have been at that ball. I would never have held you in my arms. Right now, after you, she ranks as the person I respect most in the world, more than the Queen, or, yes, even Ignaz Bösendorfer.’

Bösendorfer? Who the dickens is Ignaz Bösendorfer?[49]

The name sounded like someone you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley, but from the reverent way he pronounced it, and the way Ella beamed up at him, the chap must have been royalty or maybe an ancient demigod. For some reason, I found myself grinning.

Blast! What did it matter if Edmund thought well of me? But I couldn’t wipe the silly grin off my face.

‘If only we could reveal all to her,’ he sighed.

‘I know, I know, Edmund.’ Ella mirrored his sigh. ‘I wish, too, that she knew how dear I hold you in my heart. I wish she could hear and see us right now! But it cannot be.’

Well, actually, my dear sister…

‘Nobody must ever know! If our affections ever became known…!’

She trailed off. He picked up the meaning of her words without great difficulty.

‘Your aunt didn’t seem very fond of me,’ he ventured.

‘She can be… difficult, sometimes.’

‘Do you think she might ever be prevailed upon to accept me as the man who loves you?’

‘I… don't know. Maybe.’

One thing about my little sister… she is an eternal optimist. From inside the house, there came another crash of china, followed by a screech that sounded like Sir Phillip Wilkins’ name, mixed with powerful invectives.

Ella jumped and guiltily looked back at the house.

‘Your aunt?’ Edmund asked.

She nodded. ‘She had set her heart on this match. I would be sorry for her sake that it did not come about, but…’ she smiled weakly at Edmund, ‘somehow, I cannot seem to manage to be very sorry.’

He smiled back. But then, his face became solemn again.

‘But you’re not sorry that we didn’t have to run away, either, are you?’ he asked.

Ella sucked in air, sharply. She hesitated. Then: ‘No, I’m not.’

Her voice was small. ‘I… love you with all my heart, Edmund. But in my heart I also love Aunt, Lilly, my other sisters, even Uncle Bufford, though we practically never see him. My heart would have been broken, had I been forced to leave them. And with a broken heart, I could not have loved you half as well as you deserve.’