The Astronomers Instructions

London 1891

“Veronica! Supper is served! We are waiting!”

When you come from a house of three brothers and four sisters, peace and quiet are two factors never quite achieved. Hence our neighbours here in the South of London had taken it upon themselves to call our residence, ‘the house of eight children.’

Who you heard just now? The eldest of us, my brother Bertram. Legend says his voice could be heard as far as the Americas and I didn’t doubt that.

“VERONICA!”

I sighed. What a shame he didn’t enlist in the military.

Leaving my school preparations, I left our father’s study to presented myself at the top of the staircase.

He shook his head as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Patience is a virtue dearest brother,’ I reminded him, slowly descended the stairs.

“You are only fourteen, and yet you are in every way testing the limits of my patience with your tardiness and your tone of voice!”

Hiding my smirk, I joined him on the landing platform looping my arm through his.

Gazing up at his face I couldn’t help but observe the notable height difference.

“And yet, here you are. Waiting to escort me into the dining hall just like every other evening.”

Nudging me on, we walked through the dimly lit corridor leading into the dining hall.

Not even two steps later he continued, “Veronica, this will not be tolerable at Parlour House.”

Bertram my dear oldest brother, deep down, secretly loved my antics.

When I spilled my inkpots late at night sprawled over my writings, he scolds me but then buys me three more. It’s the same when I burn down my last candle, he erupts in frustration, but then gives me his.

He surely does show his love in various different ways. However lately, those habits have shifted. Now he takes it upon himself to constantly remind me of what will and will not be acceptable at Parlour House.

Located in South London, my future awaited me. It was in the form of a prestigious girls boarding school of feminine etiquette.

Before I could utter another word though, the overwhelming noise of six other children, two parents and eight servants engulfed us.

Stepping through the main doors to the dining hall was akin to stepping into a jungle of chaos. Only the jungle was full of monkey’s and these monkeys had no other form of communications other than yelling.

Bertram and I parted for our designated seats at opposite ends of the table. Esmerelda, our newest scullery maid caught my attention as she politely pulled out my chair.

Nodding my head in thanks, I sat down quickly next to my sisters Charlotte, 12 and Elaine, who had just turned 16.

Across from me was the youngest of us all, James. He had the unfortunate fate of being twins with the unruliest of us all, Millicent. They were both only 10 and made me thankful every day that I was leaving ‘the house of eight children,’ soon.

The table was divided with gentlemen on one side and ladies on the other. At the top of the table sat our father with Bertram at his right followed by our second eldest Dick, then little James.

To our father’s left was our mother followed by our oldest sister Maryanne. Next to Maryanne was Elaine, then myself, followed by Charlotte. Then lastly Millicent.

Almost as soon as I’d taken my seat, Charlotte interjected.

“Where were you?” She prodded, elbowing me in the side.

“Ouch, Lotte stop it,” I protested back. This child was always so rough and aggressive with her approach.

“A parcel came from Uncle Zander and one of the letters is addressed to you. I want to know what is says!” She whined.

Oh Lotte. Always brash even when she’s trying to act pleasant.

I signed. The overwhelming ruckus, mostly coming from Milli and James, was exhausting.

“Probably says, ‘Dear Ronnie, good luck with your studies, love Uncle Zander.’” I explained.

At the top of the table, out mother rang her signature little golden bell signaling an act of quietness.

After everyone had ceased talking, she raised her hand.

“But mamma! Can Ronnie please open her letter now!?”

Our mother’s hand dropped lifelessly to the table, as did her smile. Everyone was hungry and she was seconds away from commencing with supper.

“Charlotte!” I spat, striking her on her leg.

“Lotte, after dinner please,” our father replied.

“What letter?” Asked Bertram, perplexed.

My brows shot up in surprise. He hadn’t of previously been informed like myself. Oh dear.

Before I could open my mouth to explain, mother lost her nerve.

“Oh, for goodness sake!” She exclaimed. “Bethel, go get the parcel, please.”

“Did I get a letter?” Asked Dick.

The atmosphere tensed as the two little ones perked up at this news too. My stomach flipped.

The house of eight children was on the brink of war.

“No,” replied mother, “only one was addressed to Ronnie. And so help me our Father in Heaven if any one of you makes a fuss, I’ll take myself to an early grave.”

Quickly, Bethel, appeared back in the door way fumbling a soggy parcel.

There was silence. Everybody was transfixed.

“I want to read it first,” Bertram spoke aloud. His eyes fixed on the parcel as if it was dangerous.

“Bertram,” said Mother. “Ronnie is 14 and perfectly capable of reading her own letter, thank you.”

I studied his face carefully as Bertha made her way around the table. She sifted through the envelopes as she walked.

In that time, I pondered. Our Uncle Zander, my mother’s brother was one of the most highly regarded astronomers in Britain. He ran The British Institute of Astronomy in Yorkshire and he had sent me a letter… why? What could he possibly have to say?

When Maryanne and Elaine started their schooling, he never sent them anything. So maybe it isn’t about that? I hoped it was though. A simple ‘good luck at school, poppet.’ Thinking back, I realized I’d only ever met him twice. James and Millie haven’t of even met him at all.

Henceforth, Bertha found the letter and passed it to me. Swiftly I opened it, not even acknowledging what was written on the front. As I did so, Charlotte started leaning in, I tried to ignore her as best I could.

Veronica,

Please read this letter very carefully and follow these instructions. I know you are to resume your studies soon, but I must instruct you to instead redivert your original academic plans to my institute, here in Yorkshire. You are to assemble your possessions at once and leave henceforth as soon as you have finished this letter. Your parents will know what to do. Understand that this is of the most importance. I’m sorry that you don’t understand my child, but please trust what must be done.

Now without a moment’s hesitation, please make haste.

Also, bring the black book.

~ Alexander Slawin

As my eyes finished the last line, I realized I’d stopped breathing.

“What?!” Exclaimed Charlotte.

Too surprised to respond or form an organized sentence, I let the paper almost fall from my hands.

Charlotte though quickly snatched it up before it landed on the dining table.

I turned to look at my parents. To my surprise my mother was grasping my father’s forearm almost as if she was bracing for something. My father however, just looked worried.

In an instant Bertram stood up, “Charlotte, give it to me,” he commanded.

Then James and Millie chimed in, “Wait, can we read it?”

“It says she is to go to his school on Yorkshire, why?!” Charlotte exclaimed.

Mother’s face turned downward and a shattered expression took over her features. Father however looked as though he was in shock.

Beside me, Bertram appeared and snatched the paper from Charlotte angrily.

Gazing up at him again, I watched, my hands covering my mouth as he read, line to line, our Uncle’s written words.

Letting his arms almost collapse beside him he looked directly at our mother, “what is all this about?” He spat.

Mother rose to her feet quickly abandoning her seat.

“Give me the letter, now. Bethel?” She hurriedly called.

“Yes, my lady,” Bethel responded.

“Assemble Veronica’s things immediately. Pack them into her trunk and prepare the carriage.”

Bethel nodded and scurried away. All our other servants followed suit.

For the first time, the room fell silent.

Ominously, Mother seized the letter from Bertram. I watched her hands shake as she quickly read over it, nearly tripping over as she reached the fire place. There she tossed the letter into the fiery inferno without a moment’s hesitation.

This caused an uproar.

“SILENCE!” Yelled our father.

My heart was pounding as I started to profusely perspire. In fact, I was certain I would faint.

“Everyone, return to your rooms please. Everyone except Veronica and Bertram.”

Without an inch of hesitation or protest, my siblings left wordlessly, probably in shock just as I was.

My mother stood, her back to me, almost frozen in place staring at the fire.

“Claudia, we have to hurry,” said my father in a nervous tone.

She turned around, tears in her eyes.

“Why did it have to be one of our children?” She spoke in barely a whisper. “Why not Elizabeth’s or Filomena’s?”

I realized she was talking about my Aunts, her other siblings aside from Uncle Zander.

“Mother, please, what’s going on?”

She wiped her eyes, “Veronica there’s no time to explain. You must leave tonight for Yorkshire. Bertram will go with you. Don’t ask any questions, just do as we say.”

She didn’t even look at me as she spoke, instead turned to Bertram.

“Get your coats and get her to the carriage,” she commanded. “I’m going to get her the black book.”

“Mother, he can’t come with me, he’s starting his new job at the bank on Monday!” I cried.

She was nearly out the door before she replied, “That doesn’t matter now Veronica, Dick will take his place.”

In an instant, my room was torn apart as all my effects were packed away by every members of staff in the household.

Bertram, ushered me quickly downstairs out the back entrance before I’d even gotten my second arm threw the sleeve of my coat.

Just as we reached the carriage, I finally asked desperate, “Bertram, what do you know about all of this? Are you keeping secrets from me?”

His voice was shaky as he responded, “Veronica, I don’t know what I know.”

With haste, we were bundled into the carriage as the rain began to pour around us. In the darkness I could faintly make out servants dashing back and forth from the back door of the house, each carrying a trunk in both hands and piling it onto the top of the carriage.

Moments later, our mother appeared at my window, her face illuminated by a single candle light held up by Bertha.

My heart broke. Am I not even allowed to say goodbye to my siblings? Why aren’t they here?

“Here’s the book your uncle mentioned. Read it carefully,” she instructed holding out a tiny black leather-bound book. Its bindings looked old and worn.

“Also,” she continued, “he enclosed in another letter the sum of £20,000 pounds. This is for you Veronica.”

Swallowing hard, she handed the letter with the money to Bertram who quickly tucked the folded parchment into his coat pocket.

“We love you both. Bert, you watch her please.”

In an instant she disappeared without another word.

Bethel then quickly leaned in and placed a basket of tightly wrapped food, presumably for the journey on my lap.

“Good luck, Master and Lady Bellwood. Travel safely.”

Before I could protest, scream, yell or anything else, the carriage door slammed shut and without a moment’s hesitation, our horses took off into the night against the pelting of the cold and rain.