âSo you are now my niece, Emily Fairweather. You will curtsey when anyone addresses you.â Joe gave her a puzzled look. She demonstrated. He clutched his petticoats and tried to imitate it, almost falling over. She tutted and made him practice in front of the mirror for twenty minutes or so before she was satisfied. When he raised his petticoats, even more layers of lace on his bloomers were exposed to view.
âLet us get some fresh air nowâ, she told him. He froze. He was going to have to go out in public dressed like this! âPlease no! Canât I stay in the cabin?â âNonsense, you canât stay in the cabin for the whole journey. She gave him a pair of white gloves with lace around the cuffs. âCome along now!â
He had one despairing look in the mirror when she opened the door and cringed as he had to walk towards it. His wide petticoats caught in the door and he had to pull them through. His new aunt led him down the corridor to the stairs.
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs unable to see the steps due to his petticoats. She ascended without much difficulty. Joe clutched the hand rail and stepped forward trying to judge where the first step would be. He fumbled his way up a few steps before missing one.
Clutching the hand rail he heard footsteps below. He looked down and one of the crew men was at the foot of the stairs looking up. Joe winced as he realized the view the man must have up his petticoats.
He scrambled up the last few steps quickly to get away from the crew man but arrived out in the middle of the dozens of people on deck. This was it. He was out in public in his blue lacey dress and layers of petticoats. He could feel the sea breeze flutter the lace on his bloomers. He had to put a hand on his bonnet to stop it blowing back off his head. If it did his boyish hair would probably be obvious to everyone and he would be exposed.
He hadnât much fancied being thrown overboard in his trousers but if he was jettisoned in all these petticoats he would sink to the bottom like a rock!
A lady came towards them and smiled at his aunt first. âGood day! And who is this pretty girl?â Joe cringed. âThis is my niece Miss Emily Fairweatherâ, she replied smiling at Joe. He gathered his skirts and curtsied. âOh how darling! That is a very pretty dress.â Joe was in despair. Mrs Fairweather nudged him. âThank youâ, he muttered in as girlish a voice as possible and he curtsied again. His aunt smiled so he was relieved that he must have got that curtsey right.
They moved on to his temporary relief. The captain was the next one strolling along. âMrs Fairweather!â he greeted her. âI thought your daughter was unable to join us.â âCaptain! My niece, Miss Emily, was able to travel with me instead.â Joe sighed inwardly and then curtsied. âWhat a pretty little girl!â Joe saw him take in his exposed frilly bloomers with a smirk.
They walked on until they came across an open deck. There were children playing there. Joe noted that all of the girls were wearing much plainer dresses than he was and no bonnets. When they looked up they stared at his frilly dress. They inevitably looked down at his frilly bloomers and smirked. His bonnet was clearly just as amusing. He tried to ignore the looks and concentrated on holding his petticoats down in the wind that whipped across the deck.
One of the mothers engaged Joeâs âauntâ in conversation. Once again he had to endure remarks about his pretty dress and curtsey quaintly while trying to smile. Mrs Fairweather addressed him âEmilyâ. He didnât react. âEmily!â He suddenly remembered that that was him! âYes auntâ, he squeaked, curtseying. âWould you like to play with little Beatrice here?â Joe looked at the little girl playing with her dolls. She looked up and smiled sweetly.
It was about the last thing Joe wanted to do but he smiled and curtsied and went over to the little girl with her dolls. He knelt on the deck being careful to settle his petticoats.
Beatrice handed him a doll. âThis is Betty.â Joe tried to smile. He had no choice but to take the doll. He had no idea what to do with it. He tried to recall what he had seen stupid girls doing with their dolls. âWould you like to brush her hair?â Beatrice suggested, proffering a toy brush. Joe accepted it gratefully and held his doll up and started brushing her hair.
He heard tittering behind. Because of his bonnet he had to turn his head right around to see the women behind him. His aunt was particularly pleased to see him clutching the doll and playing like a little girl. âShall we go and get some tea?â his aunt suggested to the other lady. âThe girls will be fine there playing on their own.â âYes indeed. Beatrice could play with her dolls for hours!â They walked off leaving Joe desperately wondering how he could convincingly play with dolls for hours if need be.
When they returned about an hour later the children were having a tea party with the dolls. Joe couldnât see them approach because of his bonnet and was daintily holding a cup to his dollâs mouth. âOh isnât that sweetâ, his aunt commented. He turned and looked up and his face went bright red within the frilly lace of his bonnet. His aunt was delighted.
He gave her several looks pleading to be freed from the mortifying dollâs play but she had no intention of going anywhere and settled down in a deckchair to enjoy his embarrassment.
Beatrice put Joe through his paces. He had to dress a doll and brush its hair. His aunt looked on delighted that he was being forced to act like a girl and she had no intention of releasing him from his predicament.
Joe sat there feeling mortified but unable to show it as he had to pretend that he was enjoying playing with these dumb dolls. He wondered why on earth he had decided to stow away. He could be back home now jumping into the canal and swimming with his friends. Instead he was playing with dolls and wearing a frilly dress with petticoats, lacey bloomers and bonnet and steaming across the Atlantic, stuck on this ship for weeks with only pretty dresses and frillies to wear.