Page 39 of Mad Mabel

“And someone who loves you?” I countered. “Someone who loves you back?”

I’d read a lot of novels, and I had to admit this part quite appealed to me.

“Love is wonderful, and some people do find that kind of love in marriage,” Ness said. “But it isn’t the only place you find love. I’d rather work at the library and pay my own way. But you might feel differently, Mabel, and that’s your choice.”

Cess scoffed. “In fifty years this whole marriage malarkey will have gone the way of slavery, you mark my words. A stain on our history. The world is changing, there is no way women of your generation—intelligent, educated women—will continue to agree to the terms and conditions. Am I right, Mabel?”

I nodded vigorously, and Cess smiled at me proudly. Ness shook her head, chuckling.

A sense of warmth spread across me and through the room. For a fleeting moment, I felt like I was part of something. As though I belonged.

I was sitting in the bay window of my bedroom, writing in my diary, when I saw her. I was certain my eyes were deceiving me. That, or I was still sporting some sort of concussion from my fall. Because when I looked out my window, I saw Daphne Barton circling the little cul-de-sac below on her bike.

I rubbed the windowpane with my fist, then lifted my sash window. It was raining heavily enough that it felt unlikely that anyone would be out on their bike, let alone Daphne. And yet, when I poked my head out the window, there she was.

“Hullo!” she cried out.

She was still circling on her bike, drenched through. Under her wide-brimmed school hat, her hair was plastered to her face.

“Daphne?” I called. “Is that you?”

“Corsets it’s me! Who on earth else would be riding around like a lunatic in this rain?”

She had a point there. She did look comically determined as she rode her bike round and round.

“What are you doing here?” I called.

“What are you doing up there? As if I have to ask. Reading your book, right? Writing in your diary? Staring out the window? Boring. Now come down here and let’s play.”

Come down here and let’s play.

The fact that it was the first time I’d been asked to play was barely dampened by the fact that with my injuries, I wasn’t sure how much playing I could do. Still, I didn’t waste any time hobbling downstairs.

“About time,” she said when I got outside. She screeched to a stop in front of me.

“For what?”

She tapped the handlebars of her bike. “For an adventure! Climb aboard.”

I looked at the bike. It was green, and small enough to belong to a toddler. Admittedly, she was as tiny as I was tall. She reminded me of a jockey or a gymnast. “You’re joking.”

“I may be small, but I be mighty.” She grinned, revealing her small, crooked teeth. “I’ll dink you.”

“You’re crackers if you think I’m getting on that bike. I have a broken arm.”

“It’s in plaster,” Daphne said. “And I’ll be careful.”

“Mabel?” Cess called from the house. “What are you doing outside?”

“Just… talking to a girl from school.”

“In the rain?”

“I’ll be in soon,” I called.

“Righto,” Daphne said. “Hop on. Let’s go for a ride.”

“I’m not getting on that bike.”