The Kitchen Maid

by Val Wood

  ‘As to Christina’s marriage to Charles Esmond, she came to me one day and told me that she had confessed to him that she was illegitimate and that she had never known her father as he had died before she was born. Charles had informed his parents and told them that no matter what their opinion might be, he was still going to marry Christina. Mrs Esmond then wrote to me and disclosed that she had had to be married in a hurry, as she had been caught with a child – Charles himself, of course – and that they are looking forward to Christina’s joining their family. So that is one worry less.

  ‘I took out Christina’s birth certificate in preparation for the wedding ceremony, and I had either forgotten or not previously looked at it properly, but now saw that the registrar had written Jenny Graham in the space for the mother of the child, with a U for unmarried at the side of it, and left the space blank where the father’s name should be. I have decided, therefore, that I will continue to carry the secret of his death alone.’

  Billy visited all through the winter months, sometimes spending more time with Thomas and William than he did with Jenny. He struck up a relationship with John Laslett too, who now that the cattle and sheep had been brought down from the top meadows stayed indoors, leaving his regular men to the outdoor tasks. He felt the cold more now that he was older and seemed glad of the chance to talk of cattle and markets and the price of corn to Billy, rather than converse with Jenny and Arabella on what he called women’s matters.

  ‘You should consider marrying Brown,’ John Laslett said one evening after Billy had gone. He stretched his bootless stockinged feet towards the fire. ‘You could do worse.’

  Jenny put down her book and remembered that the Ingrams’ cook had made the same remark to her so many years ago. She had answered at that time that she couldn’t stand the smell of blood, but it had been an excuse, for she had loved Christy then.

  ‘Could I do better?’ she asked her father-in-law wryly.

  He considered. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘He’s done well for himself. Got a bit of money; he’s not afraid to spend some of it, and he seems a decent enough fellow. Not a gentleman, of course,’ he declared. ‘But I’m not sure that that matters.’

  ‘He is a gentleman,’ Jenny affirmed quietly. ‘He always was, and always will be.’

  ‘Mm,’ John Laslett murmured. ‘Yes, well, you’re probably right there. So what about it? Would he ask, do you think? He seems fond of you.’

  ‘How can I leave my boys?’ Jenny prevaricated. ‘I’m needed here.’

  John Laslett looked askance. ‘I wasn’t thinking of your leaving here. He could come here to live, or else –’ He pondered for some time. ‘Some married folks do live separately, you know,’ he continued. ‘I know of a couple where the wife lived with her parents, and the husband lived elsewhere on account of his business. He came often enough to see her for they had several children.’ He pursed his lips as he considered. ‘But maybe Brown wouldn’t want to leave Beverley. If you leave a business in the hands of others they don’t always do right by you. I wouldn’t want to risk it. Mm,’ he said. ‘It needs some thinking about.’

  ‘Mama!’ William said the following evening. ‘Would you ever consider marrying again?’

  ‘Have you been talking to your grandfather?’ she asked severely, prepared to be cross with John Laslett.

  ‘To Grandpa? No. Only to Thomas. We think, Tom and I, that Mr Brown is quite sweet on you. He’s always asking us questions about you.’

  ‘Is he?’ Jenny raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Yes, and –’ William ran his fingers through his tangled hair, pushing it out of his eyes. ‘Well, we thought, that when Christina has gone off to be married to Charles, and Thomas starts work properly on the estate, then you really only have me to look after.’ He gazed at her anxiously and pressed his lips hard together. ‘And I’m quite good at looking after myself, though I would miss you if you weren’t here.’

  ‘And what about your grandfather, and Serena when she comes home?’

  ‘Serena won’t be home for long,’ he stated. ‘I expect she’ll get married as soon as she finds someone rich enough, and Aunt Arabella can look after Grandpa. She won’t be getting married, she’s too old.’

  Poor Arabella, Jenny thought. She wouldn’t like to hear that. I do believe she still lives in hope that someone will ask her.

  ‘So, you think I should marry Billy and go back to live in Beverley?’

  ‘Back to live?’ he said in surprise. ‘Why? Have you lived there before?’

  Jenny could have bitten off her tongue. ‘Oh,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Yes, for a short time, when I was young. That’s how I came to know Billy.’

  ‘I see,’ William said thoughtfully. Then he looked down at the floor and traced a pattern on the rug with the toe of his boot. ‘I don’t suppose – well, maybe not.’

  ‘What?’ Jenny always knew when something was troubling William; he wore all his emotions on his face.

  ‘I don’t suppose – if you did marry Mr Brown, I mean; I don’t suppose I could come over sometimes and live with you? Would he mind, do you think?’ He gazed at her pleadingly. ‘I’d miss you very much if I didn’t see you!’

  She put out her arms and embraced him. She saw how torn he was by wanting to have a father, yet not wanting to lose her. Then she kissed him on his rosy cheek. ‘If I thought that he would mind, then I wouldn’t marry him,’ she said softly. ‘I’d miss you far too much.’

  Christina and Charles Esmond were married in April in the ancient church at Kirkburn. John Laslett gave her away and Serena came home to be her attendant. Johnny was absent as he wasn’t granted leave to come. The morning was bright with an occasional sharp shower and John Laslett nodded appreciatively. The spring cornfield had been sown just a couple of weeks before and the rain was a blessing. The cattle were back in the meadows and he agreed with Thomas when he said that the wedding had been timed just right, for the lambing and farrowing was about to start.

  ‘Well, that’s one off your hands,’ John Laslett said bluntly as they waved the newly-weds off on their honeymoon to Scarborough. ‘Serena next.’

  ‘Oh, no! She’s far too young to be thinking about marriage,’ Jenny objected. ‘Not for years. Besides, I don’t want to lose another daughter just yet.’

  But Serena had ideas of her own. She had one more year of school in Switzerland before returning home, and then, she told her mother, she would like to go and live in London with Great-Aunt Harriet, Arabella’s aunt. ‘It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t see you, Mama,’ she said as Jenny gave a startled exclamation. They were sitting relaxing after the excitement of Christina’s wedding day. ‘Of course I would! I’d come back very often.’ She lowered her voice. ‘But I don’t want to stay here in the country. I’d die of boredom! I want to attend theatres and galas, and concerts – and – and visit!’

  Jenny sighed. She was sure that Arabella had put these ideas into Serena’s head. It was what she would have liked to do if she hadn’t had to stay at home with her father in the early years.

  ‘And of course’, Serena wheedled, ‘Great-Aunt Harriet hasn’t any children of her own and she says that she has always longed to go to all the parties and balls with young people.’

  ‘So has she said that you may stay with her, Serena?’ Jenny asked quietly. ‘Have you already arranged it?’

  Serena looked embarrassed. ‘Not exactly, Mama. I wouldn’t without asking you first! But Aunt Harriet has written to me several times and suggested it, and I’ve replied that I would only go with your blessing.’

  ‘I see.’ There was no denying that Jenny felt hurt, even though she understood Serena’s desires. ‘Well, perhaps it could be arranged. But she’s a stranger to me, Serena. I’ve never met her, though I understand from Arabella that she’s very pleasant and kind. Nevertheless, how can I trust a stranger to take care of you?’

  Serena’s skirts rustled as she rose from her chair and hurried to Jenny’s side. ‘She’s go
ing to write to you, Mama,’ she said earnestly. ‘She would have done so before, only I asked her to wait until after Christina’s wedding. And she also said she would visit you, unless you would like to visit her? Grandpa or Aunt Arabella would take you!’

  ‘No!’ Jenny said. ‘I wouldn’t like to do that!’ How nervous and self-conscious I would be, she thought. I’d be out of place, afraid of doing the wrong thing. I know where I belong and it isn’t with those grand and influential people. She patted Serena on her cheek. ‘We won’t plan too far ahead,’ she said. ‘Let’s wait a little while and see what happens.’

  But she knew in her heart that the path was laid and Serena would eventually walk upon it, away from her and into another life. Just as I did, she recalled.

  A month later, Jenny took the train to Beverley, this time taking William with her, dragging him reluctantly away from his precious pigs. She was anxious to see Christina, to hear how she was coping with married life, and most of all how she was settling into her home in New Walk. It had taken a great deal of effort to convince herself that everything would be all right, but nevertheless as she walked to Christina’s front door she felt sick with nerves and her body shook so much that William looked up and asked if she was cold.

  Christina opened the door herself and flung her arms round her mother. ‘I’m so happy to see you, Mama. Come in, come in, and see the changes I’ve made. Mrs Esmond – Charles’s mother, I mean – hasn’t the same taste as I have, although I realize she has more experience, so I’m changing the cushions and the bed hangings, though leaving the curtains, and Mrs Judson is helping me with the measuring and everything.’

  Mrs Judson! Jenny held back a gasp. She hadn’t expected Mrs Judson to stay on in the household after recognizing her. She had thought that she would leave on hearing of the marriage. I should have asked, she brooded. Why didn’t I think to ask?

  ‘Perhaps I might have a word with her?’ she said guardedly. ‘Just to make sure she understands what’s needed,’ she added.

  ‘Oh, the poor lady has already had Mrs Esmond telling her what to do!’ Christina exclaimed. ‘And really, I treat her much the same as I did Dolly when I was at home.’

  ‘Ah!’ Jenny’s worries over how Christina would cope with a household abated, but she was still nervous about Mrs Judson’s being here. ‘Well, just to introduce myself,’ she prevaricated. ‘To make sure all is well.’

  Christina darted off to find the housekeeper, calling over her shoulder that she would find Charles to come and say hello. ‘Come with me, William.’ She stopped in the doorway. ‘You don’t want to listen to Mama talking about servants’ duties! Come and see my little dog.’

  Jenny walked up and down the drawing room, waiting apprehensively for the housekeeper to appear. Christina had made changes to the room, getting rid of the fussy covers and ornaments which Mrs Esmond had chosen, putting her own favourite colours and paintings on the walls. There were also souvenirs scattered about, which the young couple had clearly brought back from their holiday in Scarborough. A reminder, Jenny thought, of what I hope was a happy time, and she reflected that she had never had a holiday. I have been closeted away all these years. But it was what I wanted.

  ‘You asked to see me, Mrs Laslett?’

  Jenny turned round to confront Mrs Judson. They looked at each other, their eyes meeting. Jenny cleared her throat to speak, but Mrs Judson spoke first.

  ‘How are you, Jenny?’ she said softly. ‘It’s nice to see you again.’

  Jenny went towards her. ‘Mrs Judson,’ she began and they both smiled at the role reversal. ‘I’m very glad to see you too.’

  Mrs Judson nodded and glanced towards the door, which she had firmly closed. ‘You don’t have to worry,’ she said. ‘No-one knows that I ever worked here before. All the other servants are new and not from Beverley.’ She looked Jenny in the eyes. ‘And I’ll look after your daughter. She’s very young. They both are. She looks like her father,’ she added softly. ‘And with a merry disposition.’

  ‘But unworldly, Mrs Judson!’ Jenny entreated. ‘As Christy was, and therefore vulnerable. And –’ She hesitated before saying, ‘She doesn’t know what happened.’

  Mrs Judson shook her head. ‘No need for her to know. What’s past is past. She’ll not hear anything from me.’

  Jenny felt tears gathering. ‘Thank you,’ she choked. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I’ll take care of her,’ Mrs Judson affirmed. ‘I’ll need to take care of both of them, cos they’re just babbies.’ Then she gave a rare wide smile. ‘But they’ll be all right. They’ll grow up together.’

  They heard the sound of voices in the hall and William, Christina and Charles came into the room.

  ‘Mama!’ William exclaimed. ‘Christina and Charles have got a dog! And they’ve got a new horse each!’

  ‘Will that be all, Mrs Laslett?’ Mrs Judson broke in. ‘If so I’ll just speak to Cook about luncheon.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Judson. Yes, everything is most satisfactory,’ Jenny said solemnly. ‘I’m sure that my daughter and Mr Esmond will have a perfectly run household with you in charge.’

  ‘Oh, Mama,’ Christina said as the housekeeper went out of the room. ‘I hope you were not too hard on her, for she’s such a dear, even though she seems to be so dull.’

  Jenny heaved a sigh. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Mrs Judson and I have a perfectly good understanding.’ She wiped the corner of her eye. ‘I can’t think of anyone else I would rather have here to look after you.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  ‘Can we go and see Mr Brown?’ William asked as they prepared to leave Christina and Charles. ‘We’ve time before the train leaves.’

  ‘He’ll be in his shop, I expect, but yes, we’ll call and say hello. We’ll walk, thank you,’ she said to Charles, who was putting on his coat to take them in the trap. ‘It’s such a lovely day.’ She kissed Christina goodbye and promised she would come again soon. She meant it; some of her fears had dissipated, though she had been apprehensive as Christina had shown her over the house, telling her of her plans for each room.

  When Christina opened the door to the library Jenny had held her breath. Was there still blood on the carpet? Would there be spectres waiting for her? Was it the same chair where Christy had sat her on his knee and told her that they would die together?

  But the furniture was draped in white sheets and a workman’s ladder and pots of paint littered the room. ‘This will be Charles’s study,’ Christina had said. ‘He said he needs his own room for writing letters and so on, and I quite agree,’ she’d laughed, ‘for I’ve discovered that he’s most untidy!’

  Jenny looked down New Walk. The sun was shining through the chestnut trees, dappling the leaves, and she recalled how on a winter’s night she used to open the window in the top attic of the house to hear the hoot of the tawny owls which often roosted within the branches.

  The road was still rutted like a country lane as she remembered it, and although there were houses and barns which had remained the same, building work had been started on new houses leading down to North Bar Without. Christina will soon have new neighbours, she thought. The area is changing.

  Billy had two assistant butchers in the Saturday Market shop who were busy with customers, but one of them called upstairs to where Billy was working on accounts. He invited them up to his rooms, but William lingered for a while to watch the butchers jointing and boning the meat. There were numerous rooms above the shop, but the one at the front overlooking the Market Cross had been made into a comfortable living room with leather armchairs and a fireplace, which today wasn’t lit. ‘I’ve a young lass comes in once a week to do for me,’ Billy said bashfully. ‘She keeps it tidy. Ma offered to do it, and so did Annie.’ He grinned. ‘But I was having none of that.’ Then he became serious. ‘It’ll do for ’time being anyway.’

  He looked towards the doorway to listen for the sound of William coming up the stairs, and when there was none he said quickl
y, ‘Have you given thought, Jenny? About what I asked you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘I think about it often, but I’m still in a dilemma about my children.’ She felt morose as she thought that Serena and Johnny had already planned their own lives. There was only Thomas, who was quite independent anyway, and William, who did need her. Yet still she hesitated about her own life.

  ‘Then I’ll wait,’ he said steadily. ‘As long as I’ve got some hope.’

  Going back on the train she pondered the question, and William, who was usually so talkative, was silent, gazing out of the window and not making any conversation. Eventually, when they were almost into Driffield station, he turned towards her and said, ‘I wouldn’t mind being a butcher.’

  ‘I thought you wanted to rear pigs!’

  ‘Well, yes I do. Would it be possible to do both, do you think?’

  Jenny laughed. William had obviously not yet made up his mind about his future. ‘I’ve really no idea,’ she said. ‘You’ll have to ask your grandfather, or Mr Brown.’

  During the early summer Jenny spent much of her time alone. Thomas and William were busy on the land and they were excused their lessons. Young lambs were skipping in the meadows and by the end of June haymaking would be under way. Thomas had boldly asked his grandfather if he and William could have a wage as they were doing almost as much work as the regular labourers. John Laslett was so taken aback that he agreed.

  ‘I’ll give you half of what I pay the plough boys,’ he said. ‘Six pounds each.’

  ‘Josh Smith gets thirteen pounds a year, so half of that’s six pounds ten shillings!’ Thomas argued and William held his breath, and stared aghast at his brother’s effrontery. He wouldn’t have argued with his grandfather.