by Dilly Court
‘Yes, Cook.’ Stella knew that it was useless to argue and she had become inured to Cook’s vituperative remarks, but she would never believe ill of her mother. If Ma had fled she must have had good reason. She had never quite given up hope of finding her. The aroma of the simnel cakes baking in the oven hardened her resolve. One day she would be reunited with her mother, and she would bake her a special cake every Mothering Sunday for evermore.
‘I think I might go to my room and lie down,’ Mrs Hawthorne said, rising shakily from the chair. ‘I have one of my heads coming on. You can manage on your own.’
‘Yes, Cook. Don’t worry about a thing.’
Mrs Hawthorne dashed her hand across her eyes. ‘It’s not my age. I’m still capable of doing my work. I just suffer these headaches every so often.’
‘A rest will do you good.’ Stella made a move to help her but Mrs Hawthorne shook her head.
‘I can manage.’ She staggered towards the back stairs which led up to the attic rooms, pausing in the doorway. ‘You’d best go to market tomorrow. I’ve made a list. Jacob will take you in the trap.’
Next morning, as soon as the family breakfast was over, Stella went out into the stable yard where the under coachman was waiting with the pony and trap. She climbed nimbly onto the driver’s seat and settled herself beside him.
Jacob touched his cap. ‘This is a turn-up for the books. I usually take Mrs Hawthorne to market and get me ear bent all the way there and back again.’
‘I’m afraid she has one of her bad heads.’
‘That’s my good luck then.’ Jacob flicked the whip over the pony’s ears and it broke into a brisk walk and then a trot.
Stella clutched her reticule in her hands, staring straight ahead. She liked Jacob well enough but she did not want to encourage his advances. He was a good-looking fellow with an open countenance and a pleasant manner, but she knew that Annie was sweet on him and had been for some time. Stella would have cut off her right hand rather than do anything to come between Annie and the young man who set her heart aflutter. ‘We must be back in time for me to serve the family luncheon, Jacob. Mrs Hawthorne needs her rest and I can’t leave it to Ida and Jane.’
He turned his head to look at her with an admiring smile. ‘I like a woman who knows her own mind. I’ve had my eye on you for a long time, Stella.’
‘I’m flattered, but I’m not looking for romance.’
‘You might change your mind.’
‘You’d do better to find someone else, Jacob.’ She met his puzzled gaze with an attempt at a smile. ‘You’re a nice fellow and any girl would be lucky to have a gentleman friend like you.’
His smile faded. ‘Say what you have to say, Stella. Don’t keep me dangling.’
‘I’ve never given you any encouragement, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like you.’ She struggled to find the words that would convince him that his case was a hopeless one. ‘I’ll tell you a secret, but only if you promise you won’t repeat it to anyone.’
‘You can trust me.’
‘I’ve been saving as much of my wages as I could for the past ten years. When I’ve got enough I’ll leave Portgone Place and go in search of my mother, brother and sister.’
‘Everyone knows what happened to you, Stella. But if your ma had wanted to see you don’t you think she’d have contacted you by now? She knew where you were. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.’
‘She would never have gone off without telling me unless something terrible had happened. My mother wasn’t like that. I won’t rest until I find out what happened to my family.’
He laid his hand on hers. ‘I don’t suppose it matters what I think, but in my humble opinion you’re making a big mistake. You’ll have Mrs Hawthorne’s job when she retires and the old besom must be getting close to being put out to pasture.’
‘That’s unkind, Jacob.’
He shrugged his shoulders and flicked the reins to encourage the pony to go faster. ‘Maybe, but it’s the truth. You’ve got friends who care about you. We’re like a family in the servants’ hall, even if Mr Mason is a bit of a tyrant.’
‘A butler’s position is a very responsible one.’
‘I’ve seen you and Annie giggling together like schoolgirls when you think old Mason can’t see you, so don’t put on airs and graces with me, Miss Barry.’
Stella met his amused gaze with a smile. ‘He does get a bit pompous at times, but then that’s his job, and I should know better than to make fun of him.’
Jacob squeezed her hand. ‘That makes you human, Stella. You have to let your guard down sometimes or you’ll turn into an old stick like Mrs Hawthorne.’
‘Heaven help me,’ she said, chuckling. ‘Let’s change the subject, Jacob. Tell me what’s being said in the stables about Master Tommy. I heard that he’s been sent down from Cambridge for being a bad boy. Is that true?’ She knew very well that Thomas Archibald Langhorne had been gated many times for misdemeanours when he was at Eton, and his behaviour did not seem to have improved now that he was in his second year at Cambridge. His mother was frequently in tears and his father tight-lipped with anger when they were apprised of their only son’s escapades.
Stella suspected that she was one of the few members of staff who had seen the good side of Tommy Langhorne, who had been pampered and petted by his doting mother and received regular beatings from his strict disciplinarian father. She could remember the first time their paths had crossed ten years ago, when she had caught him stealing jam tarts not long after the illness that had laid her low for many weeks. She had found him in the larder with jam all round his mouth and crumbs sticking to his velvet jacket. They had stared at each other and she did not know which of them had been the more startled. Then he had begun to chuckle and she had found herself laughing with him. After that they met in secret whenever he came home for the school holidays and they had become firm friends.
Jacob eyed her curiously. ‘You’ll be disappointed if you think Master Tommy would be interested in the likes of you.’
‘That’s not what I meant and you know it. I know my place.’
‘Nothing but trouble can come from a servant getting too friendly with them above stairs.’
‘As I said, I know my place, and that’s an end to it,’ Stella said primly. What Jacob said might be true but she had seen little of Master Tommy since he took up his studies at Cambridge, and she knew better than to pursue a childhood friendship that had reached its natural conclusion.
They continued the journey into the town in silence. Jacob drew the pony to a halt at the edge of the marketplace and she reached for the wicker shopping basket. ‘I won’t be long, Jacob. Remember, I have to be back in time to serve luncheon.’
He nodded, staring straight ahead. ‘Right you are, miss.’
She alighted from the trap and set off to examine the produce on the stalls. She had offended Jacob and she was sorry, but she had to stop tack-room gossip before it spread to the big house. The last thing she wanted was for Mrs Hawthorne to get the idea that she was setting her cap at the master’s son. Such a notion was as preposterous as it was ridiculous. She liked Master Tommy but that was where it ended. She stopped, taking a list out of her reticule and examining it carefully. Most of the provisions for Portgone Place were delivered daily. The butcher, grocer, fishmonger and baker fulfilled the orders placed by Mrs Hawthorne, and her monthly visit to market enabled her to purchase more personal items. The list included needles and thread, two yards of elastic, a tape measure and a thimble from the haberdasher’s, and a bolt of calico from the market stall which would be considerably cheaper than that sold in the shop. There was also a list of liniments and various medicines to be procured from the chemist, including corn plasters and some camphor balls to keep moths at bay.
She had just completed her last purchase and was walking back to where Jacob was waiting when she saw a familiar figure standing by a stall selling farm produce. Even though it was ten years since she
last saw him she would have recognised Mr Hendy anywhere. She had often wished they could meet again so that she could thank him for his kindness, and now it seemed that the opportunity had presented itself. She tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Mr Hendy. It is Mr Hendy, isn’t it?’
‘That’s me, young lady.’ He dragged off his hat, staring at her with a puzzled frown. ‘You seem to know me but I’m afraid I can’t return the compliment.’
‘I’m Stella. You gave me a lift to Stratford station on Mothering Sunday ten years ago.’
He stared at her in amazement and a slow smile lit his eyes. ‘Well, so it is. By golly, I would never have recognised you now that you’re grown to be such a handsome young woman.’
‘I’ve wanted to thank you for your kindness, sir. And to repay the money you lent me.’ She opened her reticule and took out her purse.
‘No. I wouldn’t hear of it, Stella. What I did was to help a child in distress. I trust you found your mother well and that she enjoyed the cake.’ His smile faded. ‘What have I said?’
Stella shook her head, fighting back tears. ‘She wasn’t there, Mr Hendy. She was gone and so were my brother and sister.’
‘I am so sorry. You must have been very distressed, but at least you had the return fare to get you home.’
She looked away. ‘It was stolen by a gang of street arabs. I grew up in Limehouse and I should have known better than to put the money in my pocket.’
‘You were a child, and you were alone.’ He glanced over her shoulder and his stern expression changed subtly. ‘Robert, my boy. There you are.’
Stella turned to see a young man approaching them. Even before Mr Hendy introduced them she realised that this must be one of the sons he had mentioned at their first meeting. Robert Hendy was tall and well built, and his complexion was that of a man who spent most of his time out of doors. His eyes were a similar shade of grey-blue to his father’s, but the lock of hair that flopped down over his brow was light brown and not tawny like that of his parent. He smiled and the family likeness was even more pronounced. ‘I’ve been looking for you, Dad.’
Mr Hendy hooked his arm around his son’s shoulders. ‘Robert, I want you to meet a young lady I came across ten years ago, sitting at the roadside on a chilly March morning. She was just a little thing, and had set out to walk all the way to Limehouse to see her mother.’
‘And your father took me as far as Stratford and gave me the return rail fare,’ Stella added, hoping that Robert Hendy would accept that as the full story and not enquire any further. The memory of that day still hurt and she did not want to embarrass them by bursting into tears.
Robert met her anxious gaze with a friendly smile. ‘How d’you do, miss?’
She held out her hand. ‘I’m Stella Barry. Your father did me a great service all those years ago.’
‘That sounds like my dad. He’s one of the best.’ Robert shook her hand. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Stella.’ He turned to his father. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt but I can’t find Bertie. I’ve looked everywhere for him.’
‘Have you looked in the Three Tuns? That’s where the rascal usually heads for when he knows I have a job for him to do.’ Mr Hendy slapped his son on the back. ‘Try there and if you can’t find him we’ll leave him to sober up and walk home.’
Robert tipped his cap. ‘Good day, Stella. I’d better go and find my brother before he gets himself into trouble, but I hope we meet again.’
‘I hope so too,’ Stella said and was surprised to realise that she meant it. She watched him walk away.
‘He’s a good fellow,’ Mr Hendy said with a heavy sigh. ‘Which is more than I can say for his brother. I love both my sons dearly, but Albert gives me cause for concern. He’s inclined to wildness, whereas Robert is steady and reliable. My poor wife would turn in her grave if she could see how he has turned out.’
Stella could see Jacob waving to attract her attention and she realised that she had been longer than she intended. Family luncheon was served at one o’clock on the dot and there would be panic in the kitchen if she was not there to make certain that everything was ready on time. ‘I must go, Mr Hendy. I’m so sorry to hurry away.’
‘Are you still working at Portgone Place?’
‘I’m assistant cook now and Mrs Hawthorne is unwell, so I have to go.’
‘I understand. It was good to see you again, Stella.’ He shook her hand, holding on to it a little longer than was strictly necessary. ‘Perhaps you could visit us at the farm one day soon. We would welcome some female company.’
‘Yes. I’d like that.’
‘Chalkhill Farm, near Navestock. Ask anyone local and they’ll give you directions.’
‘I’ll come and see you on my next day off, although with Mrs Hawthorne being poorly I’m not sure when that will be.’
‘Don’t leave it another ten years, Stella.’
‘I won’t. That’s a promise.’ She hurried off to join Jacob, who had witnessed the scene from a distance and was scowling at her as he handed her into the trap.
‘I see the reason for your lack of interest,’ he said sulkily. ‘You’ve got a couple of gentlemen admirers here in town.’ He thrust the basket of shopping into her hands. ‘You might have said instead of leading me on.’
‘That’s nonsense, Jacob. That gentleman is old enough to be my father and I haven’t seen him since I was a little girl.’ She waited until he had walked round to his side of the vehicle and was about to climb in beside her. ‘And I’ve never led you on, as you call it.’
‘They’re laying bets on us in the tack room,’ he said sulkily. ‘I’ll look a fool if you throw me over now.’
‘That’s utter nonsense. I’ll be very angry if I find out you’ve been making up stories about me.’
He shot her a sideways glance. ‘You and your Spanish ways. I bet you got them flirty eyes from your ma what ran off and left you. They say she was no better than she should be.’
Angry beyond words, Stella gave him a shove that caught him off balance and he fell off the seat and landed on his back on the cobblestones. The frightened pony lunged forward, and although Stella made a grab for the reins she could not prevent the animal from bolting. It took her several minutes before she managed to rein it in sufficiently to draw it to a halt. ‘There, there,’ she murmured breathlessly. ‘It’s all right. No one is going to hurt you.’ She glanced over her shoulder and saw Jacob running towards them red-faced and gesticulating. She was relieved to see that he was unhurt by the fall but his careless words had upset her greatly. ‘I should make you walk home,’ she said as he scrambled onto the driver’s seat, panting and holding his chest.
‘You could have killed me.’
‘You shouldn’t have said those things about my mother. She is a kind and lovely lady and she adored my pa. For all I know she’s dead and so are Freddie and Belinda.’ Her voice broke on a sob and she turned her head away. ‘Drive on, Jacob. I’ve got to get back to Portgone Place before one o’clock.’
He flicked the whip and clicked his tongue against his teeth. ‘You’re a bit of a wild cat when you get angry,’ he said with a sly grin. ‘I like a woman with spirit.’
‘Get me home or you’ll have Mrs Hawthorne to deal with. She’s got more spirit than the rest of us put together.’
Stella was in the kitchen attempting to persuade a particularly reluctant jelly to leave its mould when Annie came flying down the back stairs and landed in an undignified heap on the flagstone floor. Stella’s hands shook and the orange jelly slid out onto the plate, wobbling dangerously and filling the kitchen with its citrus scent. ‘Annie, what a fright you gave me.’ She wiped her sticky hands on a cloth and threw it at her. ‘Why are you in such a state?’
Annie picked herself up and shook out her skirts. ‘Master Tommy has arrived and it looks as though he’s come to stay. I’d just finished polishing the brass door furnishings when the carriage arrived laden with trunks and cases. Master Tommy leapt out and gave m
e a hug and a kiss and said he was starving and asked if he’d missed luncheon.’ Annie pressed her hands to her pink cheeks. ‘Mr Mason was there and I was so embarrassed I didn’t know where to put myself.’
Stella threw back her head and laughed. ‘That sounds like Master Tommy. He’s never going to change.’
Annie stared at her wide-eyed. ‘But he kissed me, Stella. He’s never done that before.’
Jane looked up from whipping a bowl of cream. ‘You’d best look out for him, Annie. You know what happens when young gents start taking advantage of poor servant girls.’
‘Well, you’re safe then, plain Jane,’ Ida called out from the scullery where she had been washing dishes. ‘You’ve got nothing to fear from Master Tommy.’
Stella shook her head. ‘That’s unkind, Ida. Say you’re sorry to poor Jane.’
‘I was only joking.’
‘It wasn’t funny,’ Stella insisted. ‘Apologise.’
‘Sorry, Jane.’ Ida’s voice held a hint of rebellion but Stella did not press the point. She finished decorating the silver serving dish with slices of orange and handed it to Annie. ‘Take this to the dining room and don’t drop it. I haven’t had time to prepare another dessert so they’ll have to make do with fruit and nuts if they don’t want the jelly.’
Annie placed the dish carefully on a tray and snatched the cream from Jane. ‘Mr Mason is very put out. He doesn’t like happenings that disturb the smooth running of the household. He sent for Mrs Dunkley and she was in the middle of luncheon so she’s in a bad mood. She snapped at poor Lizzie for not having the young master’s room ready in time and now she’s rampaging around the linen room looking for things to complain about.’
‘And you’ll be in trouble if you don’t get that jelly to the dining room before it starts to melt,’ Stella said, sighing. ‘If Master Tommy is hungry I can make up a plate for him.’