by Maggie Ford
Ellie had been incensed. ‘I’m not calling my own sister “Miss Jay”!’ she raged when Cook relayed the mistress’s orders. ‘My own sister? It’s daft!’
‘Maybe,’ Mrs Jenkins said sternly. ‘But the mistress is the mistress and what she says goes.’
‘Well, I ain’t doing it.’
‘You can call her Dora when you two are alone. Just not in public, that’s all.’
Then last night had come a second shock as she and Dora lay side by side in their narrow bed. When they would normally have gossiped together in whispers about their day, Dora had been silent. Asked what was wrong, she had given several damp sniffs accompanied by little catches in her throat.
‘I won’t be sleeping here any more,’ she’d managed between snivels. ‘Mrs Lowe wants me to use the little room next to hers where I can be on hand. She says that a personal maid is elev— elevated, I think the word was – above ordinary servants. She said my wages will go up, but that I’m not to con— er… consort socially with you any more, because you’re under-housemaid and ladies’ maids don’t associate with under-housemaids.’
As the gabbled whispers died away, Ellie had said, stunned, ‘You’re not having that, are you?’
Dora had given an enormous damp sniff. ‘If I don’t, she says she’ll be ever so sad to have to let me go. Ellie, where would I go? I’d be all on my own.’
‘You won’t be on your own. I’ll hand in my notice and leave with you.’
Dora had shot up in the bed, making the flimsy thing creak and sway. ‘But we’d be out on the street, back where we was. That’ll be just as bad. Ellie, I couldn’t face that. We’re comfy here. We’ve got a roof over our heads and plenty to eat and it’s warm and we get a wage.’
Ellie hadn’t felt sympathetic. ‘So you’re going to accept.’
‘I’ve got to. Mrs Lowe says she wants to show me how to be a lady and speak nice… nicely.’ Indeed her diction had improved since being with Mrs Lowe, but at this moment was letting her down.
‘And I want to do that,’ she’d gone on, gazing down at her sister still lying on her back. ‘But I don’t want to be parted from you. I’ll be on my own. I won’t have no friends, not even Florrie.’
Florrie, deaf to their hissed discussion, was snoring contentedly.
‘Because someone in my position,’ Dora had gone on, ‘won’t be allowed to mix with servants that are below my position.’
‘Then that’s your choice,’ Ellie had said sharply. Already Dora sounded as if she thought she knew her place and Ellie’s. It stung. She wanted to tell Dora to come down from this height on which she was suddenly finding herself. Instead she’d said huffily, ‘Not much I can do about it, is there?’
She’d turned over, her back to her sister, simmering with anger against her. She had felt Dora slip quietly back down beside her, heard her plaintive whisper, ‘I’m sorry, Ellie, there’s not much I can do about it,’ but made no reply.
As the hours passed she’d lain awake, knowing by little movements that Dora too was awake, and she felt resentment, fear, despair in turn creeping through her, and wondered if Dora felt the same.
It wasn’t Dora’s fault. What girl wouldn’t be flattered by a promotion like that? No, she blamed Mrs Lowe. She knew the woman disliked her. She had done it out of spite, perhaps thinking Dora’s sister, who so reminded her of her dead daughter, might take offence and leave. Whatever it was, it was cruel to separate sisters in this way. Dismissing them both would have been kinder, but Doctor Lowe would have had something to say about that.
There was nothing she could do about Dora, though, and it would be miserable sleeping alone from now on. On the other hand, she didn’t relish sharing with their new kitchen maid. She didn’t much care for the girl, who never seemed to have a clean face and tended to sniff a lot, to Cook’s annoyance.
‘If I’d have known she sniffed that much I wouldn’t of taken her on,’ Mrs Jenkins had said. ‘I thought it was just a cold she had at the time. But if she wants to remain here, she’s going to have to curb the habit.’
Until now the girl had been sleeping in the kitchen – not unusual in quite a few households, her bed little more than a bench, situated at the far end of the kitchen where the staff ate or sometimes sat on their moments off between duties. Rose seemed happy enough with the arrangement, a girl who, prior to coming here, had slept in the damp cellar of another household, so she said. Even so, Ellie was prepared to refuse any suggestion that Rose Holt share her bed.
This morning she and Dora arose at six as always, dressing hurriedly against the chill. Neither spoke.
Florrie, too, dressed quickly. ‘I think we’re a bit late,’ she said as she sluiced her face in the basin of cold water all three shared. Ellie didn’t reply. Nor did Dora.
Dora was the first to leave, no doubt glad to escape the strained silence and get on with whatever new tasks Mrs Lowe was ready to face her with in order to prime her as a lady’s maid.
Ellie’s unenviable first task of the morning was always the clearing-out of ashes and laying and lighting fires in all the grates, her fingers then needing to be washed again to free them of ash and coal dust before she tackled anything else, while Florrie these days took the nicer jobs: dusting and tidying, laying the breakfast table ready for the master and mistress – all this before the girls had their own breakfast.
It was left to Ellie to wash floors, brush and beat carpets and rugs, lately polish brass and do all the dirtier jobs as under-housemaid, while Florrie waited on Sir and Madam at lunch and dinner.
One thing about Florrie: she could have started putting on airs and graces, but she hadn’t. She was still the chubby, friendly, easy-going girl Ellie had first met. As they left their attic room together, Florrie said, ‘Dora told me her good news last night as we met on the back stairs going up to bed. She said Mrs Lowe wants to train her to be a lady’s maid. Lovely.’
‘I suppose so,’ was as much as Ellie could muster before hurrying off to gather up dustpans and brushes.
She needed to be in the doctor’s study in case he popped in on his way down to breakfast. She liked to think that he might often need a bit of solitude to gather himself together in the quietness of this room on the second floor at the back of the house, away from everyone, before going downstairs to face his wife. Talk was that, after the loss of their daughter, Mrs Lowe had removed herself from his bedroom to sleep in another room. That, of course, had been before she and Dora had come to work here; but it suited her cause.
To her delight, he’d thought fit to seek his quiet study this morning. And now he had called her ‘my dear’. She couldn’t help wondering what his wife would have said about that if she’d heard him. But now she needed to take full advantage of his greeting.
She fought to find her voice – not to let it tremble.
Seven
Ellie swallowed hard. ‘Begging your pardon, sir,’ she began politely. ‘It’s good news about my sister.’
‘Your sister?’ he echoed. ‘Ah yes, young Miss Jay.’
‘I call her Dora,’ Ellie interrupted before she could stop. She felt angry with herself. The thoughtless remark had probably spoiled what she was trying for. But Doctor Lowe was smiling.
‘Yes, of course. And I shall call her Dora too, to you, my dear, but not outside this room. My wife has seen fit to lay down a few rules.’ Ellie thought she saw a shadow pass briefly across his face, but he brightened instantly.
‘And rightly so, and we should abide by them. You do understand?’
Ellie nodded. The voice had grown abrupt and, standing here with brush and pan in her grubby hands, she felt what she was: the under-housemaid, just once removed from the kitchen maid and not worth a candle.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to embark on her original quest. ‘Beg your pardon, Doctor Lowe, but I wanted to ask, now that my sister – I mean Miss Jay, has been promoted to personal maid to Mrs Lowe, I wondered if there was any chance for me – in
this house I mean.’
‘In this house?’ he cut in.
His expression had grown oddly alarmed and she realized that what she’d unwittingly said must have sounded as if she was prepared to leave if there were no prospects for her here. Sixth sense told her to play on it.
‘I know I’ve not been here all that long,’ she hurried on, ‘but I’ve learned a lot and I hope I’m a good worker.’
‘You are, my dear. I am most pleased with you.’
‘But I don’t want to stay an under-housemaid all my life.’ She gave him what she hoped was a pretty smile, despite a small streak of coal dust across her lips and cheek.
He did not return the smile. ‘I would not like to lose you, my dear,’ he said slowly.
It sounded like a threat and took her by surprise. She was about to protest that she didn’t want to leave. Heavens, where would she go? And without Dora – Dora, who was now comfortably planted here? But his face had taken on a strange expression.
‘I have become very fond of you, Ellie. I watch you from afar whenever possible, hoping you haven’t noticed. If you were to leave, I would be lost.’
There was a wheedling note in his tone and she suddenly thought of her father, the way he’d look and speak before taking advantage of her.
She shrank back. ‘No, please Doctor Lowe, I’m not that sort of…’ She broke off, seeing him frown.
He looked shocked. ‘My dear child, what are you saying? Oh, my dear child, is that what you think of me? Oh, my dear…’
His voice died away and for a moment a tense silence hung between them. Then he spoke again.
‘I confess to watching you, but only because you remind me so of my daughter, my darling Millicent. Let me explain. I gain comfort from your close resemblance to her where my dear wife finds only grief from it. I think this is why she has laid down her rules and even taken your sister on as personal maid, looking to get back at you and make you so jealous that you will leave. I cannot allow that to happen. With you here I feel I have not lost my child, though you are more forthright than she ever was.’
He took a deep breath and drew his rotund figure up to its full, small height. ‘I hope you haven’t taken offence at what I’ve said. Please forgive me if there was any misunderstanding. And please, do not feel threatened by me.’
The moment of fear had turned to elation that she tried hard not to show. ‘Of course not,’ she said as evenly as she could.
‘I am so glad.’ He was still looking at her and she felt this might be the one and only time she would get to press home her request.
‘And about my job?’ she reminded him as gently as she could.
‘Ah, yes. I have no intention of letting you go, if that is what you thought. On the other hand, we cannot allow you to continue looking like a little chimney sweep, can we?’
He smiled at his small joke, his moustache and short beard twitching. It was a nice smile, not at all lecherous, as she had first mistaken it to be.
‘Leave it with me for a few days,’ he was saying. ‘I will talk to Mrs Lowe. I must, I’m afraid. She is in charge of the staff, not I. But I will deal with her.’ The smile broadened to a roguish grin, one she’d not seen before. He seemed a different man.
‘We might find you a pleasant position – parlourmaid, for instance?’
‘That’s waiting at table, isn’t it? That might upset Florrie, being that’s what she’s doing.’
‘Then she’ll have to perk up a little. She tends to be rather sluggish, to my way of thinking. We need someone a little more sprightly. I think that would be you, my dear.’
Ellie was feeling flabbergasted but managed to give him a respectful bob of her head in acknowledgement. At the same time she wondered how she was going to face Florrie. ‘Perhaps we could both take turns,’ she suggested helpfully. ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind that.’
‘For the time being say nothing to Chambers about our conversation,’ he advised forcefully. ‘Nor to Mrs Jenkins or your sister.’
Her sister? She was missing her already. From today she would probably hardly set eyes on her to talk about anything, much less about the conversation here in this room.
‘Now I had better go down to breakfast,’ he said, but at the door he paused and turned to frown at her, his mood seeming to darken. ‘One more thing, my dear: I couldn’t avoid seeing alarm in your eyes when I mentioned my feelings towards you? Why did you suddenly look so afraid?’
‘It’s nothing,’ she said a little too quickly, betraying that it had indeed to be something.
He pounced on it immediately. ‘Has someone in the past taken an unsavoury advantage of you?’
‘Honestly, it’s nothing,’ she protested.
‘I’m not sure I believe that, but I’ll leave it at that for your own peace of mind. But should you ever need to confide in someone, I’m here. Whatever it is, it would go no further and I would support you in every way. I hope you feel you can trust me, child.’
She gave the suggestion of a nod. ‘You’ll be late to your breakfast, sir,’ she reminded him.
‘Yes, of course. And I have also delayed you, child. We will consider finding a replacement for you to relieve you of this sort of menial work.’
‘That’ll mean more outlay on wages.’ She realized she was forgetting her manners. She hurriedly amended it. ‘I mean I’d feel ever so guilty if you let Florrie – I mean Chambers – if you was to let her go. You won’t, will you?’
‘We shall see how it goes,’ he said, and gave a little chuckle, his mood becoming visibly brighter as he left her to finish her work.
* * *
‘I’m thinking, Bertram, of training Dora to dress hair,’ said Mary at dinner one evening. ‘She has made great strides as my personal maid. I am very pleased with her.’
He glanced up at a somewhat inattentive Chambers unhurriedly ladling consommé into his soup plate. The girl was no doubt tired, having been on her feet since five thirty this morning, but servants should be used to that. He found himself irked by her slowness – more reason for Ellie to stand in for her sometimes.
‘Maybe we should discuss it later,’ he warned Mary. He also needed to voice his idea regarding Dora’s older sister, but not in front of Chambers.
‘I think, my dear,’ he went on cautiously as the girl moved back to take up a position by the sideboard until required to clear away the first course and serve the main one, ‘what you are deciding to do could cause a little unrest among the staff. Jay is still under-housemaid. For her younger sister to be given such high status could cause jealousy and ill feeling.’
He cast a guarded glance towards the plump, apathetic Chambers. She seemed far from alert, but her ears could still hear.
It was expected of staff never to repeat anything they overheard of an employer’s private conversation during meals or anywhere else. In fact it was assumed in larger houses that servants, footmen, butlers and the like grew suddenly deaf at such times. But the staff here were not highly paid or highly trained and he couldn’t be certain that Chambers would not carry tales that might concern her. The subject of Ellie Jay must wait a while longer.
‘It would save money,’ Mary was saying, ignoring his warning of ill will and jealousy. ‘You know my hairdresser comes to me two or three times a week.’ She patted her newly done coiffure. ‘But it does so eat into my personal allowance.’
Bertram gave a sigh. ‘Then I had best increase your allowance, my dear, though I suggest you keep a stricter watch on what you spend.’
‘I’m quite satisfied with what you give me, dear,’ she said, huffed at being rebuked, even mildly. ‘But it seems a waste of money paying to have someone come to do my hair when I’ve a capable young girl who is dainty and quite nimble and very quick to learn and one whom I could train.’
Having finished his soup, Bertram laid down his spoon. ‘I suppose it would do no harm.’ After all, he didn’t believe in wasting money. ‘Speaking of promotion, there is a matter I’
d like to discuss with you, my dear.’
He paused as Chambers came to clear the first course. He waited as the main course was served before glancing up at the girl. ‘Thank you, Chambers, you may go now. When we’re finished, we’ll ring for you to come and clear away.’
Was there disappointment in the girl’s eye? But she gave a small bob and took herself off.
‘It’s about Ellie Jay,’ he went on after the door had closed. ‘I’ve had my eye on her. She works very hard.’
‘Does she?’ his wife cut in offhandedly. ‘To change the subject—’
‘Mary, hear me out, please! I was about to say that I think her hard work should be recognized. In the short while she’s been here she has risen from scullery maid to assistant housemaid. I am thinking of her sharing the job of parlourmaid with—’
In sudden fury, Mary slammed her knife and fork down on to the tablecloth. ‘No, definitely not! I won’t have that girl anywhere near me. The less I see of her the better. And what about Chambers? She has been with us for over a year. What is she going to say?’
‘I’ve no idea!’ Bertram said lightly. ‘But you must own she is slow and inefficient. I’ve had tea slopped into my saucer before now, to mention just one mishap.’
‘I find her efficient enough for the needs of this house,’ Mary shot back at him, her voice beginning to rise.
‘For a housemaid, yes,’ Bertram returned. ‘I admit she is efficient enough as a housemaid, but since Jay became under-housemaid she has begun to sit back and let that girl do most of the dirtier jobs. In my opinion she is not, and never will be, a pleasing parlourmaid and I consider it about time we found someone to take over that role.’
‘Then by all means do let us advertise for one – if you think you can afford it!’ Mary pushed her plate with its hardly touched contents away from her.
Her husband was fighting a losing battle to remain cool. ‘Not when we already have someone here to fill that position. Jay is nimble and quick. She works hard and doesn’t complain and has a pleasing attitude.’