by Deborah Carr
He shook his head. ‘I saw this, and immediately thought it matched the colour of your eyes.’
Her eyes were darker, but if he wanted to think that they were this exquisite azure colour, then she wasn’t going to argue. ‘Thank you, I adore it.’ She turned her back slightly to him and held the ends of the chain up at either side of her neck. ‘Will you do up the clasp for me?’
He did as she asked with a little difficulty due to his misshapen fingers and stood up. He reached his hand out to her and she took it and got to her feet. They walked over to the large mirror above the mantlepiece. Florence gazed at the gems sparkling brightly from the reflection of the flames in the fireplace below.
‘You spoil me, Jesse,’ she whispered, enthralled by the necklace.
‘Not at all.’ He kissed the back of her left shoulder. ‘It suits you even better than I had imagined it would.’
They returned to the sofa. ‘Now,’ she said. ‘Your turn. Although I must warn you that I can’t compete with what you’ve bought for me.’
‘Good,’ he said kissing her cheek. ‘I want to be able to give you things you love.’
‘Open yours now.’
She sat silently as he unwrapped the box and opened it to reveal the gold stick pin she had had commissioned. Jesse studied the circular top with their initials in the middle and those of their children linking to them in a filigree pattern from top to bottom in order of their age. She wondered if she might need to explain her thought process behind it when he didn’t speak for a few moments.
He looked up from it and kissed her. ‘It’s beautiful. I can keep all my precious ones connected to me when I wear this, wherever I might be.’
‘You like it then?’
He looked stunned. ‘I love it, as you knew I would. You know me so well, dearest Florence.’
Satisfied, she sat back with him and gazed at the pretty Christmas tree, now depleted of its presents. She cuddled up to Jesse and, content with simply sitting close to him in the warm, pine-scented room, flickering candles on the mantelpiece casting shadows up onto the patterned wallpaper, she closed her eyes.
They sat there in comfortable silence until Jesse’s stomach rumbled. Florence heard him chuckle and did the same. She sat up straighter in her seat.
‘Where are you going?’ Jesse asked holding her gently by the arm.
‘To find some food for us. I’ve heard how hungry you are,’ she said, amused. ‘And now realised that I’m a tad peckish too.’
‘What shall we eat?’
‘Mrs Rudge mentioned a game pie that she made especially for this evening. I’ll go and fetch some for us.’ She stood and smoothed down her skirts. ‘You stay there and I’ll be back shortly.’
She left the living room and walked through to the kitchen. Now she thought of it, she was ravenous. Florence was quiet so as not to disturb the servants. She could hear laughter coming from behind the closed door to their parlour, so she took a tray and laid two places on it. Then she went into the larder to find the game pie. The shelves were ordered with everything grouped together tidily. Florence lifted a teacloth thinking she might have discovered a smaller one than Mrs Rudge usually made, but it was an apple pie.
‘How odd.’ She was confused. She thought back to her conversation with Mrs Rudge and was certain the cook had mentioned placing the pie in the larder for them. Where could it be then, if it wasn’t there? Now she couldn’t find it, she yearned for the merest taste.
‘Ooh, madam,’ Harriet exclaimed, stepping back in surprise as Florence stepped out of the larder. She narrowed her eyes. ‘Is anything the matter?’
Florence explained about Mrs Rudge and the pie. ‘But it doesn’t seem to be there now. Could she have stored it elsewhere, do you think?’ Florence hated the thought of Mrs Rudge going to the trouble to cook the pie and then her and Jesse not bothering to eat it.
Harriet shook her head. ‘No, madam. It would have been left for you in there, I’m certain of it.’
She frowned and thought for a while. ‘I’m not sure what to say. Mrs Rudge will be back late tomorrow evening. I can ask her then, if you wish?’
Florence didn’t want Harriet to feel that her annoyance had anything to do with her. ‘Yes, please, Harriet. Right now though, I need to take some supper through to Mr Boot. Do you have any idea what else Mrs Rudge might have left for me to give to him?’
‘Would you like me to make up a tray for each of you?’ Harriet asked, her pink cheeks an even deeper shade than usual.
‘That’s very kind of you, Harriet,’ Florence said touched by her maid’s offer on her day off. ‘But no, I’ll have a look and put something together for us. You go back and enjoy yourself. And thank you.’
A few minutes later Florence returned to the living room with a tray of cold meats, salad, and some cheese and bread. She had included two small bowls of pickles from some jars she had found in the larder. She set the tray down for them to eat on a table in front of the sofa.
‘No game pie then?’ Jesse asked, disappointment etched on his handsome face.
Florence’s heart constricted. She didn’t like to let him down ever and especially when there was something he was looking forward to. She explained about her conversation with Harriet.
‘I’ll speak to Mrs Rudge about it on her return from her sister’s.’ She served him a plate of the treats in front of them. ‘Now, let’s enjoy this food, it looks delicious.’
She sat next to Jesse on the sofa. Despite the disappointment with the pie, everything else had gone well. She had enjoyed spending time with Jesse and the children away from work. It had been wonderful not to have to worry about her staff, or any of the other constant queries or small jobs that made up her working day, wonderful to take time to focus on those closest to her and watch them having fun.
Jesse cut a portion of ham and, sticking his fork into it, dabbed on a small amount of Mrs Rudge’s delicious pickle and held it in front of Florence’s mouth for her to eat.
‘Tasty?’ he asked after she’d chewed and swallowed the morsel.
‘Very.’ She watched him eat some of his food.
The break away from the business had done Jesse the world of good, too. He seemed more relaxed and less strained than he had done recently, Florence noticed with relief. She loved days like these, when she and Jesse spent time with the children away from their usually busy lives. They had both been doing far too much, each working hard to make sure that the factories were producing all that was needed to supply the shops for the busy Christmas period. Now, though, they could take things easy, at least for the next few days. It was exactly what they both needed.
Chapter 13
January 1894
St Heliers House, The Park, Nottingham
Florence’s hansom cab pulled up outside her house a few days later. She shivered despite her warm coat as she stepped down, shocked to hear her scullery maid, Beth, shouting hysterically.
‘You liar, I never took anything!’
Florence clenched her jaw as she paid the driver, trying to act as if neither of them could hear the commotion carrying on inside her home.
‘You did,’ Mrs Rudge shouted. ‘And what’s more, I’m going to tell Mrs Boot as soon as she’s back home.’
Florence thanked the driver and, furious to be embarrassed by her servant, rushed inside the house. It had been a long, tiring day and the last thing she needed was for her neighbours to hear two women arguing from inside her home. She didn’t bother to remove her hat or coat, but dropped her bag onto the hall table as she marched to the back of the house and into the kitchen.
‘What is the meaning of this!’ She noticed the back door was open, which must have been why their voices had carried so clearly to the driveway. ‘Beth, close that door this instant.’
Beth and Cook gaped at her, both obviously shocked to see her unexpectedly in their domain.
‘Now!’
Beth scurried to do as Florence asked.
Flor
ence took in the messy kitchen table covered with used bowls and utensils before smelling something burning. She turned to see smoke coming from a pan behind her. ‘Harriet, take that pan off the range before it burns dry.’
Harriet immediately grabbed a cloth and removed the pan, taking it over to the sink and running cold water into whatever had been inside.
‘Now, I don’t know what’s been going on whilst I’ve been at work, but whatever it is, there’s no excuse to make this much noise. I do not expect to come home and hear two women screaming at the top of their lungs.’
‘She called me a liar,’ Beth grumbled, giving Mrs Rudge a sideways glance.
Florence took a deep breath. She could see Mrs Rudge’s fury by the thunderous look on her rounded face.
Mrs Rudge, her ruddy face even redder than usual, took a deep breath. ‘Sorry, madam, I should have spoken to you about what I’ve discovered, but Beth cheeked me and I lost my temper with her.’
Florence looked at Beth. ‘I can’t imagine Mrs Rudge accusing anyone without reason,’ she said. ‘Tell me why you think she believes you lied.’
Beth scowled and stared at the floor. ‘She said I’ve been stealin’ food from the larder.’
Florence was shocked. Cook kept a tight rein on the food orders and what was stored at the house. ‘Is this right, Mrs Rudge?’
‘It is, madam.’
Annie, the under housemaid, interjected. ‘I saw Beth once meself, takin’ some of the crackers Mrs Rudge was keepin’ for the children’s tea.’
‘That’s enough from you, Annie Andrews,’ Cook snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She raised her head defiantly. ‘I’ll thank you to mind your own business.’ She turned her attention back to Florence. ‘I did accuse her, Mrs Boot. And I know for a fact that I’m right to do so.’
Annie pouted and stomped out of the room.
‘You’re the liar,’ Beth said through gritted teeth. ‘Not me.’
‘That’s enough, Beth,’ Florence said, taking off her hat and placing it on a small table by the door. She unbuttoned her coat. It was warm inside the kitchen after the cold of her carriage journey back from the store. ‘You’ll be given your turn to speak.’
She really wanted to go and cuddle her children, but this situation needed to be settled between her cook and maid before Jesse’s return home. He would be exhausted after overseeing another day of sales. The sales, especially when successful, were exhilarating and very exciting, but they could also be manic, which was why she had decided to leave the children at home today with Violet. She hoped they couldn’t hear the cacophony from these two women from their bedrooms two floors above. This place was her sanctuary, Jesse’s too, and he needed peace when he was at home, not disruption and noise.
Mrs Rudge muttered something under her breath, then added, ‘She did steal from the larder, Mrs Boot. Do you recall the game pie I made for you and Mr Boot for Christmas?’
Florence recalled her disappointment when she hadn’t been able to find it. ‘Yes, I do, but there wasn’t any game pie,’ Florence replied. ‘I must admit I was a little confused by—’ She didn’t finish her sentence as it dawned on her what Cook was intimating.
‘I’m sorry, madam, but I spent a good few hours preparing that pie for you,’ she said, giving Beth a furious glare. ‘When Harriet told me you couldn’t find it in the larder, I admit I couldn’t understand what might have happened. Then it occurred to me that there could only be one other person who had the opportunity to take it.’
‘What about Violet?’ Beth suggested, sniffing and wiping her nose on the back of her hand.
Cook rounded on the younger girl. ‘Violet had already left to be with her family when I put that pie in the larder. The only other person in the house who could have possibly taken it was you.’
Florence studied the younger girl. She didn’t seem to be even trying to hide her guilt, despite crying noisily and staring at the floor. Why had Beth done such a thing? she wondered. Hadn’t they given her enough food? Was her wage too low? Florence had imagined the girl to be happy working for them.
Cook addressed Florence once more. ‘Because of what happened, I set a few small traps with food and the like. I did it in the evenings when Violet had gone home and timed it so Harriet and the others weren’t around. I wanted to be sure that I had proof that it could only have been Beth. I’m sorry, Mrs Boot, I know this leaves you in an unsavoury position, and’ – Mrs Rudge narrowed her eyes at Beth – ‘I truly hate doing this, but I can’t share rooms with a thief. I don’t think you and Mr Boot’s kindness to us deserves to be repaid by one of your servants pinching from you either.’
Florence knew that Mrs Rudge was a kindly woman who would never see anyone lose their job if she could think of a way to salvage it. She struggled frantically for some way to remedy the situation without having to dismiss Beth. Florence could barely take in the enormity of what she was forced to deal with, especially at such a miserable time of year. She hated to think that this naive girl had been silly enough to put herself in a position where she would have to be let go, but try as she might, Florence couldn’t think of another way to resolve the bad feeling that now pervaded the servants’ quarters
‘Beth, do you have anything to say in your defence?’ Florence asked, willing the maid to come up with something she could use to help her find a way out of this mess.
Beth shook her head and gave a loud sniff. ‘You had so much other food for the two days we were away. I didn’t think no one would miss it.’
‘That’s beside the point,’ Cook snapped. ‘It wasn’t your food to take, young miss.’
‘Is there a reason you felt compelled to take the pie?’ Florence asked, hoping the girl might come up with a reasonable excuse she could use to pacify Mrs Rudge. ‘Is there a problem at your family’s home? Did you feel the need to take food to them maybe, for the festivities?’
Beth shook her head. ‘Not really, madam.’
Cook snorted and shook her head. ‘See, she can’t even pretend she was trying to help her family,’ Cook grumbled. ‘You don’t even look as if you feel at all guilty for stealing, my girl. If you found it so easy to take this, then what else might you have pinched, I’d like to know?’
Beth’s face reddened. Florence was surprised to realise that it wasn’t in embarrassment, but in anger at being found out. She was stunned. She obviously hadn’t known the girl nearly as well as she imagined she’d done.
‘But it’s only food and it’s not as if anyone will go hungry without one stupid pie,’ Beth argued.
Mrs Rudge gasped at Beth’s rudeness. She stepped forward and raised a hand. Florence realised she was about to slap the girl, so immediately stepped in between them.
‘Beth, if you wanted something to take home to your mother,’ Florence said, wearily, ‘all you had to do was ask Cook for something. Isn’t that right, Mrs Rudge?’
The cook pursed her thin lips. ‘Yes, Mrs Boot, it is.’
It occurred to Florence that the older woman was hurt that one of the maids who helped in her kitchen had taken it upon herself to steal from her. She also wondered if Cook’s fury might have been made worse by the prospect that food she had ordered and would have to account for in her books had gone missing.
Florence wished there was some other outcome she could think of for Beth, but knew that she had no choice. She would have to dismiss her. The realisation made her heart sink. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to leave this house, Beth. You do know that, don’t you?’
‘Yes, madam,’ she whispered.
Florence hoped that the repercussions of what Beth had done might stop her from ruining any future jobs she’d have. Being light-fingered was not something any employer would take kindly to, not when they had to trust the people living at home with their families.
‘Will you be able to go to your mother’s this evening?’ Florence asked, unable to let the girl leave without knowing that she had somewhere else to sleep, however upset
Cook might be about the theft.
Beth nodded. ‘She said this would happen,’ she mumbled, looking contrite.
‘Your mother knew what you’d done?’ Florence was shocked that Beth’s mother had not insisted she return the pie immediately. At least that way they’d have been none the wiser and Beth would not now be out of a job.
‘She wasn’t best pleased, but said that it looked tasty, so we might as well eat it and hope you didn’t miss it.’
Florence opened her mouth to speak but was lost for words. She hung her head for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts before looking back at Beth. If this was how her mother had reacted, she mused, then maybe Beth had no experience of understanding the upset that stealing from someone caused. ‘You do realise it’s not the pie that’s the issue here, but the fact that you stole it and that by doing so you’ve lost the trust of those in this house?’
‘Yes, madam,’ Beth said, looking sullen.
Harriet stepped forward. Florence hadn’t seen her enter the room and wasn’t sure how much she’d heard. ‘We all know that you wouldn’t see us go without, Mrs Boot,’ she said, scowling at Beth with distaste. ‘I had a silver St Christopher on a chain that went missing several weeks ago. When I asked Beth if she’d seen it, she denied it. Did you take that too, Beth?’
‘What would I want with your stupid necklace?’ Beth sneered.
Florence was horrified. How long had this girl been stealing from this household? ‘Beth, have you taken other things? If you have, now is the time to return them.’
Beth’s eyes widened. She looked stunned by the insinuation that she might have stolen more items. ‘That wasn’t me, madam. I promise.’
Florence almost believed her until she caught Beth giving a triumphant sideways glance at Harriet, whose face was now pinched with anger.
Florence had had enough for one day. ‘I think there’s nothing more we can say about the matter.’ She shook her head, miserably. ‘Mr Boot will be home soon. He’ll be expecting a hot meal. Mrs Rudge, please make something while Beth goes to her room and packs her bag.’ She stared at the young maid, sad that her time with them had ended in such a dreadful way. ‘I’m sorry it’s come to this, Beth, but you leave me no choice, I’m afraid.’