by Joan Jonker
Maureen reached for his hand. ‘We’ve become very serious, so why don’t you make me laugh by telling me more of what Agnes gets up to? And I want to know how Abbie is and how today’s auction went. There’s so much I want to hear, so come on, Robert, let me share the happenings in your life.’
‘I left the auction before it was over, as you know, but I would hazard a guess that we’ve had a particularly good day. Abbie is to go to commercial college to learn shorthand and typing, book-keeping and general office work. She met stiff opposition from her mother, but I put my foot down. You’d like Abbie, she’s a lovely, bubbly girl, full of fun.’ Robert ruffled Maureen’s hair. ‘And now to our indomitable housekeeper. My eldest daughter can be a pain in the neck, a real snob. Well, she looked down her nose once too often for Agnes, and was told, “Take yer own bleedin’ plates out, ’cos I’m packing me bags. And yer can see to yer own bleedin’ dinner, ’cos I ain’t.” And she would have gone, too, if I hadn’t smoothed things over with a glass of whisky. I wouldn’t have blamed her either, she deserves more respect than that. As she said to me, “I’d have cried me bleedin’ eyes out if I’d had to leave you and Miss Abbie. But I would have done, Mr Robert, ’cos I’ve got me pride. I’ll have no toffee-nosed little madam looking down their nose at me!” ’
‘Good for Agnes! I’ve never met the woman but I know I’d like her.’
They chatted about different things, keeping the conversation light, until it was time for Robert to leave. Then they stood in the hall, their arms around each other, and kissed. Neither of them said a word, but both were aware that the kiss was warmer and more loving than usual. Robert sighed. ‘Four weeks today, my dear. Take good care of yourself.’
‘And you, Robert, you take care.’ Maureen watched him walk down the path then closed the door and leaned her back against it as the tears rolled down her cheeks.
Chapter Four
‘I couldn’t believe my ears when Mother told me. Can you imagine me going into a poor house, or workhouse, whatever they call them? I’d come home crawling with lice and heaven knows what else.’ Victoria was wearing a petulant expression as the wind played with the strands of hair that had worked loose from the pretty floral voile scarf she had covering her head. ‘I’m of the opinion that Father has gone completely mad, because if he was in his right mind he’d know I would never entertain such an idea.’
Charles Chisholm didn’t answer as he changed down a gear to navigate the bend in the country lane. There was no traffic on the road, but he wasn’t taking any chances with his beloved MG drophead coupé. His father had bought it for his twenty-third birthday last week and he was the envy of all his friends. He’d spent a couple of hours polishing it that afternoon and there wasn’t a fingermark on the bright blue bodywork, the chrome fittings sparkled and you couldn’t see the windscreen it was so clear. He’d even had the black soft top up, so a maid, standing on a chair, could dust it. He was so proud of it, and had expected Victoria to be very impressed. Instead, she was sulking and hadn’t even passed comment.
‘Charles, are you listening to me?’
He glanced sideways. She looked stunning as always. Elegant, poised, make-up perfect and dressed from head to toe in expensive clothes. She was just the right person to go with his car. But he wished she would take that frown off her face. ‘What did you say, darling? I’m new to this car and I’m afraid I need to concentrate.’
‘I was talking about Father, and his stupid idea that I should do charity work! I mean, do you really think that’s me?’
‘No, I must admit I can’t see you in that role, my sweet. But my mother, and a couple of her friends, they do a little charity work and they find it very rewarding. But not everyone is cut out for it.’
Victoria showed an interest. ‘I didn’t know that, Charles, you’ve never mentioned it. What exactly is it that your mother and her friends do?’
‘I’m not quite sure, my love, you would have to ask her. As far as I know they visit poor people in hospital, and they take them flowers, or fruit. There’s probably more to it than that, but I honestly don’t know. Mother seems to enjoy the work, but whether it would suit you is a different matter.’
Victoria was now definitely interested. Perhaps things weren’t as black as they seemed. The Chisholms were a very rich and influential family, and she couldn’t see Annabel Chisholm going near anyone who was dirty or disease-ridden. ‘I’d rather you didn’t mention it was Father’s idea, Charles, but would you make a few enquiries for me, darling?’
He put a hand on her knee and squeezed. ‘Of course, my sweet. I’ll ask Mother over breakfast tomorrow. Now, can we please have a smile on that pretty face? You’ve looked miserable since I picked you up, and you haven’t even said how spiffing the car looks.’
‘It looks lovely, and you look very handsome behind the wheel.’ Victoria was feeling decidedly more happy. She’d been going out with Charles for several months now and had been trying to coax him into revealing his intentions. So far she hadn’t met with success, but she wasn’t going to let him slip through her fingers if she could help it. He would be an excellent catch, rich and terribly good-looking. If she could land him, she would live a splendid life of luxury. Never again would she have to ask for an allowance, she’d have money to burn. She would be mistress in her own house, with servants to do her bidding. But she wasn’t the only one with designs on him, he was fawned over by several of her friends. No dinner party was complete without Charles Chisholm, particularly if there was a daughter in the house seeking an eligible husband. So she had to persuade him that by choosing her, he would be getting an excellent wife who would be an asset to his business and social life. And he had just handed her an ideal way of getting closer to him – through his family. It would do her cause no harm to ingratiate herself with his parents. To let them think her desire to do charity work was out of the goodness of her heart. And who knows, one day she might even thank her father for starting a chain of events which led to her catching the most eligible bachelor in their circle of friends.
‘Darling, you look so handsome I could kiss you.’ Victoria made up her mind she was going to woo the man who could give her the life she craved. So she fluttered her lashes and asked in a coy voice, ‘Would you think me a wanton hussy if I ask you to find a secluded spot to park? Somewhere romantic, under the shade of a tree perhaps, where we could kiss without being seen.’
‘Oh, I say, that’s a jolly good idea,’ Charles said, bucking up no end and thinking Victoria wasn’t such a bad old stick after all. She’d been out with several of his friends and they said she was cold enough to be an iceberg. Hopefully he would be able to tell them how wrong they were. ‘I’ll pull in here, my sweet.’
Victoria wasn’t a romantic or sentimental person. Aloof and cool, she didn’t like being kissed or fondled. She’d earned the name ‘iceberg’ by keeping her suitors at arm’s length. A peck on the cheek was as far as she would allow most of them to go. The odd few who had managed to reach her lips had left her totally unmoved, and unresponsive. But she hadn’t set her sights on any of them with regard to marriage. With Charles, however, she was prepared to suffer the sloppy kisses and boring caresses. At least until she had his ring on her finger.
When Charles put his arm across her shoulders she looked into his eyes and smiled. ‘It is very peaceful here, don’t you think?’
‘The only thing on my mind at the moment is your promise of a kiss. So come here, my pretty, and send shivers down my spine.’
Victoria offered her lips and moaned softly as though enjoying the experience. The sound seemed to please Charles, so she repeated it each time his lips covered hers. She was unmoved, there was no thrill of excitement for her, but her pleasure came from hearing his heavy breathing and low groans. She risked opening her eyes slightly, and seeing his flushed face, coupled with the sounds he was making, filled her with a sense of power. A few words now wouldn’t go amiss. ‘Charles, my darling, I really am very
fond of you.’
‘Oh, yes, my sweet, the same goes for me. You are absolutely adorable.’
Victoria smiled. If this is what it took to snare him, then she’d go along with it. After all, the reward at the end would be well worth a few kisses and caresses. But while she was thinking this, Charles was becoming more and more amorous. No longer content with her kisses, his hand began to stray down to her breast and he groaned as he fondled it. ‘God, Victoria, you have a beautiful body. It’s enough to send a chap wild.’
‘Thank you, my darling, I’m happy you think so. But you are being naughty, I did only promise you a kiss.’
‘No red-blooded man would be content with that, Victoria.’ Charles was now letting his hand stray down her leg, and with one quick movement it was under her dress and moving over her thighs.
‘Charles, you go too far!’ Victoria swept his hand away and feigned indignation. But under the surface she was delighted. It wouldn’t be long now before she had him in the palm of her hand. ‘I don’t know what on earth my parents would think, or yours.’
‘Oh, come on, Victoria, how would they ever know?’
‘I’m not worried about our parents, Charles, I am in control of my own life. And I will not give myself to any man but the one I marry.’
‘We’ve been courting for months now, so who is to say I will not be that man?’
‘To be courting and to be betrothed are two very different things, Charles, as you should well know.’ Victoria was satisfied that tonight she had taken one step towards her goal. And she didn’t want to spoil it by acting too quickly. ‘And now, darling, can we carry on with our journey, please?’ She leaned sideways and kissed his cheek. ‘I find you very attractive, Charles, and it would be so easy to fall in love with you.’
He opened his mouth at the same time as a voice in his head advised caution. And without wondering why, he heeded the warning and switched on the ignition.
Agnes climbed the stairs to call Kitty for her afternoon cup of tea, and found the cleaner sitting on the top stair with her head in her hands. ‘What’s wrong, sunshine?’
‘I don’t know, Aggie, I just came over all funny, like. I had to sit down because I was frightened of falling arse over elbow down the bleedin’ stairs.’
‘Come on, I’ll help yer down. Leave all yer cleaning tackle, it’ll come to no harm. All the family are out, so there’s only thee and me.’ Agnes put her arm around the thin waist and half carried Kitty down the wide staircase. ‘I called Pete in earlier for his cuppa, and he’s in the back garden now, trimming the hedges.’
‘He’s a good gardener, isn’t he, queen?’
‘He can turn his hand to anything, love, and he’s a nice bloke into the bargain.’ When they reached the kitchen, Agnes pulled a chair out from the table. ‘You sit there, sunshine, and I’ll pour yer tea out. And I’ll give yer a little treat, seeing as ye’re not feeling too good. I bought meself a small bottle of whisky, and a drop in yer tea will buck yer up in no time.’
A smile came to the face that was far too gaunt to be healthy. ‘Don’t blame me if I end up doing an Irish jig on me bleedin’ head, will yer?’
‘Kitty, yer don’t look as though yer’ve got the energy to wink, never mind standing on yer head. I am worried about yer because yer don’t look a bit well. I don’t like the colour of yer at all.’
‘I’ll be all right, queen. I just went a bit light-headed, that’s all. I can’t afford to be sick and that’s the bleedin’ top and bottom of it.’
‘Kitty, yer’ll be working yerself to a standstill if ye’re not careful. I know they say hard work never killed anyone, but it would if yer not getting enough to eat and ye’re walking six miles a day.’
‘It’s that bleedin’ walk what gets me down, queen, and I admit it. But I haven’t got the shilling it would cost me to get the tram here and back every day. And if I got a job nearer home I’d miss all the tit-bits I get from you, so I can’t ruddywell win, can I? Besides, it’s not that easy getting a job, there’s too many people out of work. Where I live, there’s kids running round with no shoes to their feet, rags on their backs and their heads are walking with fleas, the poor buggers.’
Agnes set a cup in front of the cleaner. ‘There’s a good measure of whisky in there, so get it down yer. While ye’re drinking it I’ll do yer an egg on toast. And ye’re not walking home tonight, I’ll give yer the penny fare.’
‘Ooh, don’t do that, queen, yer’ll get into trouble with Miss Edwina if she knows ye’re feeding me. And I can’t take no money off yer, either, ’cos with yer living in and getting all yer food and everything, I know yer don’t get much wages.’
‘A penny isn’t going to skint me, sunshine, so don’t let that worry yer. And with regards to making yer a bite to eat, I’ll clear that with Mr Robert when he comes in. He won’t mind, he’s got a heart of gold.’
‘I’m just a worry to everyone, aren’t I, queen? But I’d rather yer didn’t say anything to Mr Robert in case he thinks I’m not up to the job.’
‘You don’t know him like I do, Kitty, he’s a real gentleman and very kind. Not like his ruddy wife, she wouldn’t give yer a spot if she had the measles. It’s easy to see where Miss Victoria gets her airs and graces from, they’re both stuck-up cows. Mr Nigel’s not so bad, though. He’s a bit of a cissy, and as thick as two short planks, but at least he’s got a heart, not a swinging brick.’ Agnes was at the stove poaching an egg while she was talking, and she had her back to Kitty. So she didn’t hear the low moan that came from the little woman before her head dropped on to the table.
‘Here yer are, this will give yer a bit of strength.’ When the housekeeper turned and saw her friend sprawled out, she nearly dropped the plate with fright. ‘Oh, my God!’ She wasn’t very good with people who were ill, she never knew what to do. So she put the plate down and hurried to the kitchen door. Her eyes travelled over the large garden but there was no sign of the gardener. So she shouted at the top of her voice, ‘Pete, will yer come quick, I need yer help!’
Pete came from between the trees in the orchard at the bottom of the garden, rubbing his hands down the side of his working trousers. ‘What is it, Aggie?’
‘It’s Kitty, she’s just flaked out. I haven’t touched her ’cos I was too frightened.’ Agnes wrung her hands. ‘Oh God, I hope she hasn’t died on me.’
Pete brushed past her and headed for the figure huddled over the table. He felt Kitty’s forehead with one hand and her pulse with the other. ‘She’s fainted, that’s all. Have yer got any smelling salts?’
‘In the drawer here.’ Agnes opened one of the drawers in the huge Welsh dresser which covered the whole of one wall. She took out a small bottle and passed it over. ‘Don’t put it too near her nose ’cos it’s awful strong.’
Pete smiled. ‘Go and teach yer grandma how to milk ducks, Aggie.’ He removed the stopper and waved the bottle about six inches away from Kitty’s nose. When there was no response he moved it nearer and was heartened to see her eyelids flicker. ‘There yer are, love, yer’ll be all right in a minute. Just take it easy.’
It was a few minutes before Kitty came around enough to lift her head. Her voice feeble, she asked, ‘What happened?’
Agnes sighed with relief. ‘Yer passed out on me, that’s what happened. Frightened the bleedin’ life out of me, yer did. I thought yer were dead, and if yer do that to me again, so help me, I’ll kill yer.’
Kitty, her face as white as a sheet, tried to raise a smile. ‘So if I don’t die of me own accord, yer’ll kill me, eh, Aggie? I’ll be dead whichever way it goes.’
Agnes turned to the gardener. ‘Thanks, Pete, I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been here. Will yer help her over to me rocking chair while I find a stool for her feet? She’s not doing no more ruddy work today, and that’s for sure.’
‘I’ve got to, Aggie, I haven’t touched the dining room yet.’ Kitty was getting agitated. She daren’t lose this job, otherwise she
and Alf would be turfed out on the streets. ‘I’ll be all right when I’ve had a bit of a sit-down.’
Agnes stood before her, hands on hips and head tilted. ‘Listen to me, Kitty Higgins, yer’ll do as ye’re told. There’s no more work for you today, and that’s final. I’ll give the dining room a quick flick over while the dinner’s on the go, and no one will be any the wiser.’
‘Are all the family out, then?’ Pete asked. ‘I haven’t seen sight nor sound of them.’
‘They’re all out for the day, but they’ll be home soon to get dressed for dinner. It’s a great life for some, eh, Pete? Talk about the idle rich!’
‘I dunno, Aggie, I wouldn’t change places with them. I mightn’t have much money, but I’d rather have my little house than live in this mausoleum. I wouldn’t swap wives with Mr Robert, either. At least my missus knows how to laugh and enjoy herself. I think Mrs Dennison’s face would crack if she smiled.’
‘Ye’re better off than we are,’ Kitty chipped in. ‘At least you don’t see much of them, working in the garden all day.’
Agnes spun around. ‘Listen, Tilly Mint, will yer put yer feet on that footstool and sit back in the chair? I’m going to chase Pete now ’cos I’ll have to put a move on with the dinner. And while I’m doing that, you can try and eat that poached egg on toast, save it going to waste. Then yer can close yer eyes and have a nice little snooze. I’ll give yer a shake when it’s time for yer to go home. There’s no hurry tonight ’cos yer’ll be going on the tram.’
‘Ye’re spoiling me, queen, so don’t blame me if I expect yer to let me have a snooze every afternoon. I could easy get used to the good life, yer know. Before yer know it, I’ll be expecting to have tea in the drawing room.’
‘Sod off, sunshine, there’s enough lazy buggers in this house. I’m only spoiling yer now ’cos ye’re not well. But don’t come the wounded soldier every day ’cos it won’t wash.’ Agnes felt her heart turn over when she looked down at the little woman who was so scrawny and badly dressed, she could be taken for a tramp. ‘Have yer bite to eat, then close yer eyes, sunshine, a little sleep will do yer the world of good.’