by Shirley Roe
“Don't ask Lass, you will find out soon enough.” Now Jenny was very worried.
After one week, Jenny was more depressed than ever. The servants didn't speak to each other, every morning they fell to their knees in front of Mr. Brown and the entire house was like a tomb.
The children were horrible and Mr. Brown insisted on coming to the nursery when Jenny was alone and made her feel most uncomfortable. The meager portions of food allowed the servants, barely kept her going through the day. The other servants were cool and close lipped. Taking the children outside in hopes of gaining some control over them, she overheard two of the maids talking. “She'll be gone soon. They don't stay long.” Jenny thought she knew why the others had left; there was no hope in taming these children.
The lessons went as expected. Day after day, the children rebelled and Jenny grew more and more frustrated. It was midday and Jenny sat reading to the children. Baron folded his papers into large balls and threw them at his sisters. The girls, Jane and Lucy screeched like banshees and called him rude names. Jenny's mood grew darker as the day passed. Finally, the young maid came to take the children to their mother.
Glad to have a few minutes of peace and quiet, she picked up the books and papers. Taking deep breaths as Abigail had taught her, she began to feel better. The feeling was short- lived.
Once again she had the eerie feeling that she was being watched. Turning toward the door, she saw Mr. Brown leering at her. He glanced around the room and realizing that the children were gone, he stepped into the room and closed the door. Jenny continued picking up after the children, ignoring him. Suddenly, she found herself being forcibly pushed against the wall. She could smell the liquor on his breath. He was a large man, tall, but very overweight. He gripped her shoulders roughly, turning her toward him. She protested, but Mr. Brown held her arms and pressed his lips to hers. Jenny squirmed to be free, finally kicking him in the shin. She pushed him, his weight throwing him off balance. He yelped and let her go and she moved quickly toward the door.
“You get away from me.” She was frightened. He seemed to be intoxicated, staggering toward her.
“Jenny, my dear. Just a little innocent fun, come here.” Mr. Brown advanced but Jenny was quicker. She escaped to the hallway just as Mrs. Brown came up the stairs. Pushing past her, Jenny ran up to her room. Mrs. Brown watched her go and then turned, her face solemn, toward the nursery.
Jenny lay on her bed sobbing; she could still smell his horrid breath and feel his bulk against her. Her whole body shook. Thank God she had been able to push him off of her, but how long before it happened again. Now she was sure what had happened to the maids in the kitchen, and she fell to her knees and prayed that God would protect her. She pushed the heavy washstand in front of the door. Lying on the uncomfortable cot, she listened for any movement beyond the door. It was hours before she finally fell asleep. I have to get out of here, but how?
The next morning, Mrs. Brown called Jenny into the study. Jenny was nervous, she did not like Mrs. Brown anymore than she liked Mr. Brown. Shyly, she knocked on the large wooden door. “Come in.” Jenny entered the large study with great trepidation. Mrs. Brown was seated at the large mahogany desk. “Take a seat. What I am about to say is to be confidential. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mam.” Jenny sat on the edge of the chair with her back straight.
“I am not pleased with your performance. You seem to think that you are above everyone else in our employ.” Jenny started to object, but Mrs. Brown held up her hand to silence her. “Remember who is the Mistress of this house.” Jenny put her head down. “I see no improvement in the children. I had hoped that you would make a difference, but you have failed.”
The conversation was short and direct. Mrs. Brown dismissed her on the grounds that she was incompetent. Jenny wanted to protest, but she realized it was pointless. Shocked, but somehow relieved, Jenny remained silent. “You will be discreet about what you have seen and heard in this house, do you understand me?” Jenny nodded, understanding exactly what the woman was referring to. Mrs. Brown gave her a small envelope with her wages and dismissed her.
She took her pay, packed her small suitcase and left the Brown mansion. Jenny moved quickly across the long, cobbled drive toward the street. Once again, she had that eerie feeling that she was being watched. She turned back toward the house, to see Mr. Brown at the upstairs window. The conversation of the two maids came back to her, “She'll be gone soon.” So that is why all the others left. It is not the children but the father that drives us all away. She quickened her pace.
After she heard the irongate slam behind her, she released the air that was held in her lungs. Free at last, thank you God. Happily she walked the four miles back to Abigail's.
Zachariah and Abigail were distressed to see Jenny. “A nice……”
“Cup of tea, just what we need,” Jenny and Zachariah finished her sentence, smiling at Abigail. The three of them laughed out loud. It felt good to be back in the safety of this loving home. “And three or four oatcakes from the look of you. Why you have only been gone a short while and you look like you have lost a stone in weight.”
After explaining what had happened, Abigail and Zachariah were disgusted at the man's behavior. Naturally, they never doubted Jenny's story for one minute, Zachariah apologized for introducing her to Mr. Brown. He felt responsible somehow. “I never thought he would commit Cùis-éigin.” Looking at Jenny's puzzling expression, he added, “That's rape, my dear and thank God in your case it was foiled. What a brùid! Don't worry we will put our heads together and think of something.”
Jenny reassured him that he was not at fault. “The man is a hypocrite. All of that praying to God and demanding obedience of the servants, as if he is God himself. Apparently he makes a habit of having his way with all of the girls.” Jenny reached for his wrinkled hand, “You could not have known. Please Zachariah, don't feel bad.”
“The man is a brùid, a beast alright! I must warn the ladies at St. Giles not to let their daughters anywhere near that mansion.” Abigail poured the steaming liquid into the fine china.
Jenny seemed lost in thought. “I just have to figure out where I go from here. Perhaps I should just go back to Watsworth and forget these silly notions of grandeur. Perhaps Mrs. Brown was right, I do act as if I am better than the servants.” She was worried about the future, but in her heart that she knew she was a good person. “I just don't want to work as a servant like my poor mother did. Is there anything wrong with that?” Abigail and Zachariah assured her that she was a sweet and innocent young lady, who was kind to everyone she met. They both did their best to reassure her that she could still have her dreams. “Abigail, please don't say anything to the ladies at St. Giles. Mrs. Brown was very insistent that I not repeat anything that happened.”
“Superior indeed! Those people are worse than the street urchins in my book. Don't worry my dear, I will keep their sordid secret.” Abigail put her arm around Jenny and Jenny leaned against her, feeling safe and protected once again.
Abigail insisted Jenny move back into her room, but Jenny would not take the room unless Abigail accepted payment. “Jenny dear, you are like a daughter to me. It is not necessary.” but Jenny was adamant and the two finally agreed.
Jenny sat staring out the window. The train whistle sounded eerily in the distance. Was it calling her back to Watsworth? The large tomcat sat on the windowsill rubbing his head against her hand. Unconsciously she stroked his fur. Although Abigail and Zachariah did everything they could to encourage her, she was beginning to lose hope. She could not bear to go into domestic service. Her experience with Mr. Brown could have been worse if she had not escaped. She did not know what Mrs. Brown heard or saw, but she was grateful to be dismissed. Unfortunately, it was a common occurrence with domestic staff, and Jenny dreaded thinking what the future might be. She had watched her mother work her fingers to the bone for the wealthy and she was determined not to let that happen to he
r.
“There is no place for me in this city. Perhaps, I should just forget all of these silly dreams and go home. Watsworth is a small town, but maybe that is where I belong.” The tomcat looked at her as if he understood. Jenny smiled when she realized she was talking to a cat and turned away from the window. “At least no one at the mine attacked me.” She sat down and wrote a letter to Tim.
My dearest Tim:
Life in Edinburgh is much more difficult than we believed. I am trying to decide whether to come home to Watsworth or stay and try to make it here in this huge city of strangers. Abigail and Zachariah are so sweet. They have become my family. I miss you Tim………………….
When she finished her letter, she sealed it and placed it near her purse. She would mail it in the morning. It was the third letter she had written and still, Tim had not answered her. Perhaps, he had moved on with his life. Perhaps, he was just busy in the pit. She missed him.
She looked at her case, picked up her sweater and folded it neatly in the drawer. A few minutes later, she picked the sweater up again. Placing the sweater in the case, Jenny started to pack her bag as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Abigail and Zachariah were very sweet, but what could they do? What could anyone do for her? She was alone in a strange city. She was all alone for the rest of her life with no mother or father to lean on. No Tim, who had always been there. All alone, she didn't know what to do. She collapsed on the bed, sobbing.
Don’t you dare give up girl. I raised you to be a fighter. Jenny shook her head. Was that her mother's voice? I said, don’t you dare give up. Jennifer Barstow You march out there and get yourself a job. Jenny rolled over staring at the ceiling.
“But I have looked, Mother, and no one wants to hire me.” Well then, go and get the job that you came here for. “That job is taken, what can I do?” Fight.
Jenny wrapped her arms around her body, giving herself a hug. Was she really having a discussion with her dead mother? A shiver ran down her spine. “Oh Mother, I miss you so.” The large tomcat leaped on the bed, pushing his fat body against her. “First, I am talking to a cat and now I think I hear my Mother. Dear Lord, what is happening to me?” The cat's head moved from side to side as if he was listening to her.
Sitting up and reaching for her folded blouse, she made a decision. She looked into the tiny mirror on the wall and the reflection of a sad, defeated young woman stared back. Her mother was right. Why was she giving up so easily? Tim had not replied to her letters, therefore he obviously did not love her. She must push him to the back of her heart. This was her chance to make a new life. She would do it. She would fight.
Jenny gave Abigail the last of her money, knowing that she had a place to live for the next month. If all else failed, she would take another domestic position, take her chances and earn a living. She told Zachariah and Abigail what she planned to do. The three sat late into the night discussing her strategy and Zachariah helped her formulate a plan.
Chapter Four
Bright and early Friday morning, she marched to the city offices. Jenny stood outside the door, gathering her courage. She took three deep breaths. After a few minutes, she smoothed her hair and opened the door. She nodded to the doorman and walked confidently up the stairs. Dressed in her finest navy blue skirt and jacket, lovingly pressed by Abigail, Jenny felt alive and confident. Her brown hair was pulled back on her head with a tiny hat perched on top, giving her a very professional appearance.
The pointy nosed receptionist was surprised to see her. “Yes, may I help you?”
“I am here to see Mr. Johnson. Please tell him Jennifer Barstow is here for our appointment.” Miss Carter looked confused; this girl was becoming a nuisance.
“I don't remember any appointment with Mr. Johnson. Will you please leave?” Jenny knew that this was going to be the biggest challenge of her young life. She had to get past the “gatekeeper.” She smiled inwardly at her own reference to the “gatekeeper,” thinking: That is just what she is. She stood her ground.
At that moment, the door behind the receptionist opened and Mr. Johnson appeared. Jenny deduced him to be approximately sixty-years-old, with graying hair and a large mustache. He wore a very expensive suit and Jenny was duly impressed by his appearance.
“Miss Barstow?” Miss Carter turned with a jerk to stare at her superior.
“Yes, Mr. Johnson, it is a pleasure to meet you at last.” Jenny pushed past Miss Carter, who sat open mouthed at her desk. Offering his arm, Mr. Johnson and Jenny disappeared behind the slamming door. The receptionist pursed her lips indignantly.
“I really don't know how there could have been such a mix up, Miss Barstow. This is my signature on your letter and I do remember reading your resume. I was very impressed with your letters of reference. A second letter was sent right after Mr. Murphy became my assistant, explaining the position had been filled, however, it appears you did not receive it.” Mr. Johnson was sympathetic to Jenny, but politics were a dangerous game, and when ordered to hire the nephew of the Lord Provost, one had no choice. He owed Zachariah Taylor a great deal, but he didn't think there was anything he could do for this young woman.
“I did not receive it, and I spent the last money I had to come here. It was just a stroke of luck that I met Mr. Zachariah Taylor and his lovely sister. If not for them, I would be in dire straits, Sir.” Jenny remained aloof. She wanted to make a very good impression, but she also wanted Mr. Johnson to realize her situation and perhaps inject a little guilt. This was all new to Jenny, but Zachariah had tutored her well on how to be confident and unyielding.
Mr. Johnson brushed some lint from his sleeve. “I have known Mr. Taylor all of my life; he gave me my first job. He speaks very highly of you, Miss Barstow.” Mr. Johnson sat up straight, looking Jenny directly in the eye. “You realize that he requested I see you, although I don't know what he hoped we could accomplish.” This was not what Jenny had wanted to hear. She and Zachariah had hoped he would find her another position, once she introduced herself. She began to feel this was a waste of time. Mr. Johnson turned his gaze toward the door when a quiet knock pulled his attention. “Enter.”
Miss Carter entered with several invoices. “Excuse me sir, but these must be signed before they can be paid.” She looked down her nose at Jenny and left the room.
“Excuse me, business first.” Mr. Johnson haphazardly sifted through the papers, found his pen and was about to initial the invoice on the top.
Jenny leaned forward and glanced over at the paper on the top of the pile. Even upside down she could see there was an error in the total. Hesitating, she made a quick decision. “Excuse me for being so forward, Mr. Johnson, but that total is incorrect.” He stared up at her in surprise, his glasses perched on his nose.
“You can tell that from where you are sitting? This column has at least twenty figures in it. I am sure you are mistaken. My assistant checks everything very carefully.” He gave her a patronizing smile.
Jenny was positive the figures were wrong. “I think you should check them again, Sir.” As soon as the words left her lips, she knew she had overstepped.
Mr. Johnson slowly went over every number on the page, not once but three times. He looked up. “Well, well, Miss Barstow, it appears you are correct; this invoice would have been overpaid by more than a hundred pounds.” Jenny gulped the bile that was in her throat, wondering what he would do now.
He stood and walked toward the door. Jenny rose thinking that she was being dismissed. She had ruined the only chance she had. Eyes on the floor, humble and ashamed, she turned toward Mr. Johnson, but he looked surprised to see her standing.
“You stay here please, Miss Barstow. I will be right back. Please sit down. You look pale. Would you like some tea?” With that, a very relieved Jenny almost fell back into the large leather chair. She nodded to Mr. Johnson, who left the room. Once she was alone, she gulped air into her lungs. Dear God, I almost ruined everything. Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut? Immediately she c
losed her eyes and practiced her slow breathing. She began to feel calm. Thank you, Abigail.
Mr. Johnson returned with Mr. Murphy in tow. Jenny remembered him from her first day in Edinburgh, but she had not realized how handsome he was. His blond hair fell just below his ears, and his large brown eyes were piercing. Handsome and cocky, she thought. Jenny was surprised to see him carrying the tea tray. “You have met Mr. Ian Murphy, my assistant.” Ian Murphy bowed to Jenny. She looked away, embarrassed. “Ian, pour Miss Barstow some tea and then come and explain this invoice.” Jenny could not look at the scowling Mr. Murphy. Instead, she stared at the portrait over the desk, keeping her eyes straight ahead.
“I don't know how I could have made such a mistake. It won't happen again.” Now it was Ian Murphy's turn to be embarrassed. “It is good that you noticed, Sir.” Ian Murphy was thinking that he seldom double- checked the invoices before giving them to Mr. Johnson. Mr. Johnson usually just signed them.
“I didn't notice, Miss Barstow did. That is why I am hiring her to be your assistant.”