by Sue Lawrence
Rona sat at her desk, sorting through the files, then looked up at the clock. It was eleven o’clock so the tea trolley should be going around. She went to the door and peered out. Good, there was Mercy at the end of the corridor, pushing the trolley laden with tea, coffee and home-baked shortbread. The staff seemed to be following Rona’s requests for everything to be on time, as much as possible.
There was one more resident due that morning and then that was the first eight rooms occupied. The first day had gone well, with the cook excelling herself and everyone enjoying the food even though most of them had small appetites. She and Craig would have to help during some mealtimes as a couple of residents needed a hand with cutting up their food, but that was all part of the job. Thankfully Rona no longer felt sick in the mornings. Those early weeks of her pregnancy were awful; she was constantly tired and felt nauseous, but she had to keep working – there was so much to do. But now, at four months, she felt she had more energy. Hopefully the sickness was over and she could just enjoy growing fat.
‘Rona, Mrs Bell says, can you go and speak to her, please?’
It was the Australian nurse, Fay, looking smart in her starched blue uniform. ‘I think she wanted a little reassurance from you. She didn’t like that new carer calling her by her first name.’
Rona sighed. She had briefed the staff on the first day about how to address residents. If someone wanted to be called by their first name, that was fine, otherwise it was Mr or Mrs. Or Miss. The last woman due to arrive was a Miss.
Rona strolled along the corridor to Room 5 and knocked at the door.
‘Come in.’
Rona went in and sat beside Mrs Bell who was perched at the window on a hand chair.
‘Mrs Bell, that chair doesn’t look very comfortable. Why don’t I have this armchair moved to the window for you and you can keep this chair for visitors?’
‘I don’t expect I shall have too many visitors. My husband was the sociable one, I was more the stay-at-home one.’
‘Your husband died only three months ago, Mrs Bell, didn’t he? Are you managing all right?’
‘Yes, fine. He had what I believe is termed a “good death”.’ She sighed. ‘And it was the right move for me to come here. The sheltered housing was fine for us both but not for me by myself.’
‘Is everything to your liking here?’
‘Yes, apart from a couple of things. First of all, I do not wish to be called by my Christian name.’
‘Of course, that was a mistake. Charlotte said she was sorry, she was tired as she’d been on a difficult night shift. I apologise for my staff. That won’t happen again.’
Mrs Bell turned back to the window. ‘Also, I did wonder if there was a room upstairs instead of this one?’
‘Yes, there is one, but it’s further along. You won’t have the same view over the garden.’
Mrs Bell nodded. ‘It’s that, well, I’ve not told you yet, but my husband and I used to live in the big house opposite and I hoped to be able to see it so that I can relive the memories of the wonderful time we had there. Can you see the house from upstairs?’
‘Of course, you lived in that house. I remember someone telling me. Let me nip upstairs and check if Room 12 has a view towards it. It’s a corner room and has two windows so I think you can see over the road and also over to the lodge house. I’m pretty sure, anyway.’ Rona went to the door. ‘It’s just come to me, it was Martha who told me you and your husband lived there, for many years. It must have been such a wrench to leave it.’
Mrs Bell scowled. ‘Is that Yank still around?’
‘Martha? Yes, she lives in the lodge house.’
Mrs Bell turned away and stared out of the window.
‘So that’s everything unpacked into your wardrobe and drawers now, Mrs Bell. Is that all right?’ Rona shut a cupboard door in the upstairs room.
‘I think so.’ Mrs Bell looked out the left-hand window. ‘What a difference to be able to see over to my old house. And I can still see the garden down below.’ She pointed at the back of the door. ‘Whose photograph is that on the door?’
‘That’s Mercy, she’s your named carer.’
Mrs Bell frowned. ‘I should so prefer that nice young man Ian as my named carer. Is that possible?’
Rona shrugged. ‘I think that should be all right. Let me look at my staff lists later. Now, is everything else all right?’
‘The safe. I am still not sure why you have to know the code too?’
Rona took a deep breath. She had a huge pile of admin on her desk needing her attention. ‘As I said, Mrs Bell, I won’t actually know the code. You write it down here and it goes into your file in an envelope which you will have sealed yourself. It’s for emergencies only.’
‘You mean, when I die?’
Rona smiled. This woman was sharp as tacks. ‘Not at all. In case, say, you’re ill and need something.’
‘I see, very well.’ She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair.
‘There is one final thing.’
Rona checked her watch. It was nearly suppertime, she had so much to do.
‘That American. I presume you have little to do with her?’
‘Martha? Well, she’s helped us out in here sometimes. And she is our only neighbour really. We’ve never set eyes on the couple in your old house.’
Mrs Bell nodded. ‘I see.’
‘See you in the dining room in an hour then, Mrs Bell.’
Mrs Bell turned back to the window.
Chapter 14
1899
‘Come and sit down at the table for a minute, Jessie. I’m sorry you got into trouble.’
Jessie sat down in the warm kitchen and looked up at Molly who had never spoken to her in such a kindly way before.
She sat shivering, still chilled from the afternoon in the cellar. Matron had come to let her out just before supper, saying nothing other than she had to get straight to work. Molly handed her a cup of hot tea and reached for the sugar bowl. Jessie’s eyes opened wide as she watched the cook stir two spoonfuls into the tea and push it in front of her. She was never allowed tea in the kitchen and never more than half a teaspoon of sugar. She wrapped her hands round the cup.
‘The thing is, Jessie, Annie Rae got away with it. She must have come in here when we were setting up at dinnertime and put all that salt into the soup. When I realised it must have been her, I went to tell Matron but she still left you in the cellar for hours.’
‘Thank you.’ Jessie took a sip of the tea and shut her eyes. She had never tasted anything so delicious. It was sweet, hot and comforting.
‘Have you ever been down there?’ Jessie asked.
‘What, in the coal cellar? No. It’s not very big is it?’
‘The ceiling’s low but I think it goes back quite a long way. There was too much coal – I couldn’t see the end.’
‘The coalman just delivered yesterday morning, that’s why.’
Jessie glanced over her cup at Molly who was hanging up cloths along the range. ‘Molly, how long has Effie been in here?’
Molly shrugged. ‘She’s certainly been here ever since I arrived. Why?’
‘Just wondered. And why do Matron and the Governor just ignore her?’
‘She’s not quite right in the head, poor soul. You’ve seen how she scratches things with her nails. And she never sleeps.’
‘Does she sleep in the women’s dormitory then?’
Molly stood still for a moment without turning round. ‘Yes, though she’s never there.’ She began bustling at the stove with the last cloths. ‘Now, we need to be getting on. There’s the supper dishes to wash. Has that drink warmed you up?’
Jessie nodded. ‘Thanks, Molly,’ she said, heading for the sink.
‘Just try to keep out of trouble, Jessie Mack. Matron said she’d only give you one more chance then you’d be out. She’s convinced you’re cursed.’
Jessie touched the brown mark above her lip. ‘But Ma won’t ta
ke me back. Where would I go?’
‘Let’s not think about that. Just do everything she says. And stay well away from Annie Rae. She’s trouble.’
Jessie went out the back door and took in a deep breath of air. She had finished all the dishes and Molly was taking Matron and the Governor their supper in the Governor’s office. She had watched, amazed, as Molly had fried two beef steaks in a frying pan with butter. Butter was something they only ever had on a Sunday with their bread, the thinnest scraping, otherwise it was dry bread. She had boiled potatoes and put them on their plates with some cabbage. Jessie felt her mouth go all moist as she looked at the dishes and the smell of the beef while it was cooking had been almost too much to bear. Molly had added a couple of shakes of something from a small bottle to the pan which she then stirred with a wooden spoon into the buttery juices before pouring this liquid over the beef on the warm plates. Molly told her this was called a sauce and the bottle contained mushroom ketchup which gave it a nice taste. How could Molly bear to cook food like that every night after a day cooking watery porridge and thin broth for the inmates?
Jessie looked towards the little lodge house to the left. She walked down the steps and looked back up at Wardie House. The two buildings were built in different stone, the big house was far grander and looked much newer. She stepped round the back, wondering where the coalman tipped the coal into the cellar. She had already made up her mind that, if she was sent down there again, she would somehow find her way out, then escape. She was fourteen – old enough to look after herself.
For the first time, Jessie noticed a small door low down along the wall, not far from the back door of the lodge house. She turned the handle and the door opened and she noticed a wide chute which was filled with coal. The chute did not look big enough to go down, perhaps a small child would manage it. So that was where the light in the coal cellar came from. The cellar was very near the lodge house, perhaps it shared the coal cellar with the big house.
Jessie’s eyes darted back to the kitchen door which was still shut, so she walked towards the lodge house. This was something she had never done before, but Matron and the Governor would be in his study for at least half an hour, eating their delicious supper with a glass of something from the sparkling crystal decanter. Molly told Jessie the dark red liquid was called claret. Well, it seemed that the Governor had more than just the one glass: when Jessie went in to clear the table every evening, the entire decanter of purple drink was gone. There were dregs in the bottom of his glass; Matron’s glass was clean. Matron replenished the sparkling decanter twice a day.
Jessie peered in one of the windows of the lodge house. It was difficult to see as the lamps were not yet lit, but she made out chairs and, by the window, a desk with some books. There was a picture hanging on the wall, a woman she thought, but it was too dark to see clearly. Jessie continued round the back and stopped in her tracks. In the dim light, she could make out two figures, very close to each other, up against the wall. She retreated, sure they had not seen her, and sped over to the wall near the back garden door.
Soon, a figure ran from behind the lodge house to the back door. It was one of the boys. Then another figure followed, walking fast across the vegetable patch and up the steps where she was standing.
‘Bertha, what were you doing round there?’
Bertha’s eyes widened as she noticed Jessie.
‘Nothing.’
‘You’ll get into trouble if you’re caught. And how d’you get out the back door? It’s always locked.’
‘It’s Matron and the Governor’s suppertime.’ Bertha smiled. ‘Anyway, he knows how to get out.’
‘Who? Who was that with you, Bertha?’
‘Billy Muir.’ She smiled. ‘He loves me, Jessie, he told me.’
Jessie grabbed Bertha’s arm, pulled her into the larder then shut the door. Bertha was a big girl, but her arms were soft and smooth, like a baby’s. ‘Bertha, you’ll get into so much trouble. They’ll send you to work down at the docks in Leith. That’s what I heard Matron tell Elsie Wilson last week when she caught her. And Elsie was with her own husband. Matron won’t have any of that kissing stuff around here.’
‘We weren’t doing anything, Jessie. Honest.’
‘Just be careful, Bertha. Don’t trust that Billy Muir.’
‘I’ll do what I like.’ Bertha opened the larder door. ‘Winzie!’ she called as she ran towards the kitchen door.
Jessie shut her eyes tight. Bertha was seldom like the others, pointing at the mark on her face and calling her names; she had never spoken to her like that. But she was so simple, she believed whoever was speaking to her at the time and did what she was told. Billy Muir was no good and he obviously wanted something from Bertha. She hoped she wouldn’t get into trouble.
Chapter 15
1982
Rona parked the car and walked up the path to Wardie House. She tapped in the keypad code and pushed open the door. It was quiet, mid afternoon, and most residents were resting in their rooms after lunch. It was a good opportunity to have some time for herself. She’d just been to Willie Low’s for the weekly shop and was ready to sit down.
Rona pushed open the door to the annexe and heard something. Was it giggling? She traipsed into the kitchen.
Martha and Craig were standing close together by the stove. Martha was touching Craig’s hair. What the hell was going on?
‘Oh, hi Rona.’ Craig went over to give her a peck on the cheek. As usual, he smelled minty; he was constantly sucking peppermints. ‘You’re early. Thought your doctor’s appointment was at three?’
‘No, four. I had time to come home from the supermarket first.’ Had they expected her an hour later?
‘Give me your car keys. I’ll bring the stuff in. Martha’s just made a pot of tea. Grab a cup.’
So the woman was now making herself at home in Rona’s kitchen? Rona looked over at Martha who was smirking as she poured the tea.
‘Were you inspecting Craig’s hair for lice or something?’
‘Very funny. No, I was telling your husband what good thick hair he has.’ She flicked her own glossy locks. ‘No chance he’ll go bald like so many other men not that much older than him.’ She looked Rona up and down. ‘You can definitely see you’re pregnant now. Love the dungarees.’
‘Yes, well, it’s all I can get into. Craig hates them.’ Rona stared at Martha’s slim figure. She wasn’t about to tell Martha that Craig also hated the thought of his wife all fat. ‘Were you two not meant to be setting up the lounge for Alex’s birthday party tonight?’
‘We were just about to start. Weren’t we, Craig?’ Martha’s voice was now simpering.
Craig had just arrived back into the kitchen and was putting the supermarket bags on the table. ‘The party?’ He nodded. ‘Just about to get onto that. I’ve got all the balloons and streamers and things. Oh, the cook wanted to see you about how she should decorate Alex’s cake.’
‘I’ve already told her to ice ‘Alex’ and ‘100’.’ Rona gulped her tea then looked at her watch. ‘I’ll go and speak to her. See you in the party room later.’
Rona stood up, headed for the hall and slammed the door behind her. She was fuming. Who did Martha think she was? There was definitely something sly and calculating about her.
She looked over to the other side of the hall and noticed Mrs Bell standing by the cellar door, staring at the portrait of the Victorian lady.
‘Hello, Mrs Bell.’ Rona forced a smile.
The elderly woman turned, slowly, both gnarled hands clasped together on the handle of her walking stick.
‘Hello, Rona.’ She looked her up and down. ‘Do you know, today’s the first day I can actually see you are expecting? Remind me how many months you have to go?’
‘The baby’s due in July, so another three months.’ Rona smiled as she patted her bump. ‘Do you like that painting? I found it downstairs in the cellar.’
‘It’s a little amateurish but also rather
charming. Have you noticed, she has those eyes that follow you when you move from side to side?’
‘Yes. I wonder if she might be the owner of the house before it became a poorhouse?’
‘I suppose so.’ Mrs Bell thought a moment. ‘I think I might have some information on who used to own the house in one of my drawers upstairs. Shall I try to find out who they were?’
‘That’d be great, yes please, Mrs Bell.’
The door to the annexe swung open and Martha and Craig came out, carrying boxes of balloons. Craig stopped beside them. ‘How are you, Mrs Bell? Is your headache better now?’
‘Yes, thank you, young man.’ Mrs Bell gazed at Martha who had continued on towards the sitting room; Craig followed on. Mrs Bell turned to Rona and whispered, ‘Horrid cheap perfume she wears.’ She crinkled up her nose. ‘Watch that Yank, keep an eye on her. I saw her snooping around in the big linen cupboard earlier.’
‘Maybe she was getting some sheets or towels for one of the carers.’ Though that seemed unlikely.
‘She reminds me of Lady Macbeth, you know.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, but without a husband to do her bidding. I always thought she might be capable of evildoings.’ Mrs Bell stood up straight and started walking towards the lift, her stick tapping across the floor.
After she’d spoken to the cook, Rona went to the office and started to tidy up her notes. She had so many assessment documents to file. Once each of the twelve residents’ folders was complete things would be in much better order.