Tuppenny Times

by Beryl Kingston

  Yr obedt servt, Alexander Thistlethwaite.’

  Oh dear, she thought. I’ve stayed away too long. I shall have to go back and see what’s the matter. But she’d missed the bi-weekly coach to Dorchester and there wasn’t another to London until the following morning.

  ‘I’m uncommon glad to hear it,’ Calverley said, when he arrived at her lodgings later that afternoon. ‘You ain’t thinking of leaving me, my charmer, surely. ’Twould break my heart, so it would. No, no, Nan, there’s no cause for you to rush away. Come now, put on your bonnet. Your carriage awaits.’

  ‘Carriage?’ She didn’t know whether to be pleased or not. It had been such a marvellous thing to see him that afternoon, standing on the pavement below her balcony, more handsome than ever and free for the hour or two he’d promised. But she ought to be travelling home and she knew it.

  ‘Tomorrow’s coach is a deal too soon for me,’ he said, as though he’d read her thoughts. ‘And now make haste, my love. We are off to the races.’

  The officers of the Duke of Clarence’s Light Dragoons had arranged a series of flat races up on the ridge that afternoon and the gentry had turned out in force to support them and place the odd bet or two. So the stakes were high and irresistible. Mr Hanley-Brown had a flutter on every race and swore he was ‘coming out more or less even, me dear’. But Calverley did badly.

  It didn’t seem to worry him unduly. ‘’Tis all one,’ he said lightly. ‘Jericho will save us, you will see.’ Jericho was running in the sixth race and his master was convinced that no other horse could ‘hold a candle to him’.

  Unfortunately their ability to hold candles was not being tested that afternoon. Jericho did his best, straining every nerve and muscle, but whether it was because of the strength of the opposition or because of the burden of carrying all their expectations in addition to Calverley’s ten stone, he wasn’t even placed. And they’d backed him so heavily. Calverley had gambled every last penny he possessed. And Nan, despite her wavering better judgement, had been persuaded to bet all the money she was currently carrying in her reticule. Now she had no cash left except the rent which she had prudently left behind in her rooms.

  ‘’Tis just as well I return to Chelsea tomorrow,’ she said, as Calverley drove her back to Weymouth at the end of the meeting.

  ‘How so, my charmer?’ he asked, smiling at her. ‘Do you wish to be rid of me, so soon?’

  ‘No, oh no,’ she said. ‘it en’t that. ’Tis because I got no money, and that’s on account of your horse.’

  He ignored her rebuke, smiling at her with the most melting tenderness. ‘As to that,’ he said, holding the reins with extra care because they were beginning the descent of the longest hill, ‘’tis the luck of the game. We shall win it all back at the next meeting, I promise you. Howsomever, if you must return to London, it would appear that you’ve picked a good time.’

  ‘How so?’ she asked, surprised and disappointed because he was accepting her departure now and she would have preferred him to go on objecting to it.

  ‘According to Fortie, the King means to review his troops in ten days time, so ’twill be non-stop parades and drills with us. Clarence’s will bear the brunt of it, you may be sure. All leave cancelled and that sort of thing.’

  ‘Shall you miss me?’ she asked, half teasing, half anxious.

  ‘Desperately! How could you even ask it?’ Those honey-coloured eyes so loving.

  ‘Then you will write to me?’

  ‘You may depend upon it, my love.’

  But when the London coach pulled away from the town the following morning, she knew that she would miss him quite terribly. The yearning pain she felt as she watched him ride away was so acute it was as if her heart were being torn from her body. I will see what is wrong, she thought, and put it right and catch the very next coach back here again.

  Back in Cheyne Row, Agnes Pennington was white with rage. ‘It is not your place to question my decision,’ she said furiously to Bessie Taylor. ‘If I give orders that a disobedient child is to be deprived of her supper, I do not expect to come down to the kitchen and find her stuffing herself with roast meat and potatoes.’

  She looked so horribly fierce that all three children had stopped eating, and poor Annie had almost stopped breathing, even though Bessie put a protective hand on her shoulder. Thiss was still out on his evening round and the scullery maids were hiding in the pantry, so there was no-one left to defend the children except Bessie and Mrs Jorris.

  ‘I ain’t starvin’ my little Annie,’ Bessie said, fearful but determined, ‘not for you nor no-one. Not if it was ever so. Not if you was the Queen a’ China.’

  ‘Try not to be vulgar,’ Mrs Pennington sneered, snorting down that long horsy nose of hers. She had narrowed her eyes until they were as small as pins, and her mouth was a tight, white line. ‘Mrs Jorris, kindly remove that plate.’

  ‘I got a job ter do, same as you Mrs Pennington,’ the cook said, emphasizing the title with her customary sneer and interposing herself massively between the governess and poor, trembling Annie. ‘It ain’t no part a’ my job ter take orders from no governesses.’

  ‘I shall report you to Mrs Easter,’ Mrs Pennington said, rigid with insult.

  ‘Do!’ the cook answered. ‘’Twon’t butter no parsnips, I can tell yer. You eat up, girl,’ she said to Annie. ‘Don’t pay ’er no mind.’

  ‘I trust you realize that you are undermining my authority,’ Mrs Pennington said and her voice was as pinched as her lips.

  ‘Hoity-toity!’ the cook answered. ‘Eat yer nice pertater, Billy dear.’

  But Billy wasn’t at all sure that he ought to do any such thing because Mrs Pennington was snorting again and there were two dark lines of temper etched in her cheeks. She leant forward suddenly, bending from the waist, stiffly and awkwardly like a wooden puppet, and seized Annie’s plate in both hands.

  But Bessie was too quick for her. She had the other side of the plate in her hands before the governess could move it an inch. For a few fraught seconds the two women tussled for possession, while the children watched with horrified delight. Then the food skidded from the plate and spattered across the table to squelch onto the kitchen floor.

  ‘Aaagh!’ the cook shrieked. ‘Look at the mess you’re making on my nice clean flagstones.’ It was an unnecessary order because they were all staring at it.

  ‘I don’t care!’ Mrs Pennington said shrilly. ‘It had to be done. I don’t care. At least there can be no question of her eating anything now.’

  ‘Oh, you wicked old woman!’ Bessie shouted. ‘You cruel, wicked old woman!’ And she grabbed a bowl full of egg custard that was standing ready on the dresser and emptied it over Mrs Pennington’s head.

  There was a second’s total silence while she and the governess glared at one another with hatred and disbelief, and all three children held their breath, and Mrs Jorris continued to stare at the gobbets of meat congealing on her nice clean flagstones.

  And it was just at that moment that Nan walked into the kitchen.

  Annie turned pale, Johnnie bit his lips, Bessie burst into tears and Agnes Pennington took one look at her employer’s furious face and threw herself backwards into the nearest chair in a fit of hysterics, screaming at the top of her voice and drumming her heels against the floor, while the egg custard dripped from the frills of her cap and rolled down her bodice.

  ‘Stop that row,’ Nan said, wading into the mêlée. ‘Stop it at once, do you hear? I expect some peace in my own home, for pity’s sake. This is worse than Bedlam. What’s got into you all?’

  But the governess was too far gone for control, and continued to scream and throw herself about so violently that she was in imminent danger of either breaking the chair or her back. ‘Oh, very well then,’ her mistress said, seeing there was no hope of persuading or commanding, ‘if that’s the way the wind blows, you may stay here and scream till you’re blue in the face. ’Tis all one with me. Bessie, stop snivelling
and bring the children up to the dining-room. They may finish their meal there. Mrs Jorris, I see there are more potatoes in the baking dish and the beef is warm. Kindly serve two more portions for me and Annie. Do we have no scullery maids?’

  The latest pair had crept from the pantry and were standing anxiously beside the dresser. Now she turned and saw them. ‘There’s a deal to be cleaned up,’ she said, calmly taking Annie by the hand, and swept from the room taking her children with her.

  ‘Now then,’ she said when they were settled at the table beside the garden window, ‘what was all that about?’

  Annie and Johnnie looked at one another anxiously. They didn’t want to get poor Bessie into trouble and they weren’t sure whether it was prudent to complain about the governess, because you never knew how Mama would take things. But Billy told the truth, straight out. ‘Annie couldn’t do her sums,’ he said, ‘so old Penny said she wasn’t to have any supper an’ Bessie said she was, an old Penny threw it on the floor, so Bessie threw the custard at her.’

  ‘Mrs Pennington,’ Nan corrected automatically.

  ‘Mrs Pennington,’ Billy agreed affably.

  ‘Is this true, Annie?’

  ‘Yes,’ Annie whispered. ‘I do try Mama. ’Tis uncommon hard sometimes and Mrs Pennington gets cross.’

  ‘Aye,’ Nan said easily. ‘So I see. Well now, as to that, perhaps ’tis because you’ve learnt all you need to learn. You’re a good age now. Too old for the schoolroom, I should say. I see no reason why you should be taught any longer.’

  The relief on Annie’s tear-stained face was quite touching. But Johnnie was looking alarmed.

  ‘The boys must continue their lessons, of course,’ Nan said quickly to reassure him, and she noticed that although Billy grimaced he didn’t seem unduly worried. A cheerful soul, my Billy, she thought, and his next question didn’t surprise her.

  ‘Is there another custard, Mama?’

  ‘I am glad you have a good appetite,’ she said, ringing the bell for Mrs Jorris. Then she changed the subject because she could see from their hunched shoulders that Annie and Johnnie were still upset. ‘I saw the King while I was away. He was bathing in the sea. What do you think of that?’

  Thiss came back home while they were eating a gooseberry tart, there being no other custard. She was quite relieved to hear his cheerful voice, chattering up the stairs. There was somebody normal in the house at last. Now she could start sorting out all their problems and get back to Weymouth and her dear Calverley. I will send for Thiss as soon as this meal is over, she thought, for the sooner I start, the sooner I return.

  But when the meal was done and she had gone upstairs to make a pot of tea in the drawing-room and a shame-faced Bessie had taken the children away to bed, it was Mrs Pennington who came knocking timidly at the drawing room door.

  ‘Yes,’ Nan said, coldly, ‘you may come in, Mrs Pennington, and I hope you have something sensible to say to me.’

  ‘I do apologize, Mrs Easter,’ the governess said, her face blotchy but humble. ‘I am truly, truly mortified to have behaved in such a way.’ She had changed her dress and her cap and done her best to wash her hair, which now lay stuck to her forehead in flat damp clumps so that she looked more like a horse than ever.

  ‘So I should think,’ Nan said shortly, leaving her standing awkwardly beside the fire-screen. ‘I en’t at all certain whether I shall require your services any further after such a display.’

  ‘’Twill never occur again, I do assure you, madam.’

  ‘It had better not.’

  Encouraged because she wasn’t being shouted at, the governess tried to justify her behavior. ‘I was mortally provoked,’ she said.

  ‘Evidently.’

  There was a pause while Nan drank her tea and Mrs Pennington bit her lip. ‘’Tis all on account of taking a moral stand,’ the governess said, and now the self-righteous tone was returning to her voice. ‘There are things you ought to know about your servant Bessie, Mrs Easter. Oh, yes indeed. Things that young woman would much rather were hidden. Not that they will remain hidden much longer if I am any good at arithmetic.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Nan said very calmly. She was very interested but it wouldn’t have done to show it.

  ‘There have been goings-on in this house,’ Mrs Pennington said darkly. ‘Oh, not just while you’ve been away, ma’am, although heaven knows they’ve been bad enough then, in all conscience.’

  Nan gave her a cool look across the top of her teacup. ‘So?’

  ‘That young man Thiss spends more time a’ nights in the nursery with Bessie than he does in his own rooms. Oh, I’ve seen him sneaking in to her, don’t you worry. I’ve kept an eye on ’em. I know the sort of things they do. They don’t fool me. Carrying on, they are. And all under your roof and behind your back ma’am. ’Tis downright disgraceful, so it is.’ Now that she’d told her scurrilous tale she was beginning to feel quite herself again. ‘Downright disgraceful.’ How proper and righteous the words sounded.

  ‘You do not tell me anything I do not know already,’ Nan said coolly. Poor Bessie to be spied upon by this dreadful woman. Are no pleasures ever to be secret? ‘You do not know perhaps – indeed how could you? – they plan to marry. With my permission, of course. Indeed I might almost say with my connivance.’

  The news struck Mrs Pennington quite dumb. It was very gratifying. ‘Now as to this other matter,’ Nan went on. ‘I have spoken to Bessie and she has agreed that in matters of discipline and order within the classroom your word is law.’

  The governess began to preen and pick up again. ‘Most kind,’ she murmured. ‘I do appreciate …’

  ‘Howsomever,’ Nan continued, cheerfully and without remorse, ‘your authority does not extend beyond the classroom. That must be clearly understood, or we shall part company immediately and without references. ’Tis not for you to say what the children may wear or eat or how they should behave themselves outside the classroom. That is a matter for Bessie to decide. I trust I have made myself clear.’

  ‘Oh yes, ma’am. Indeed ma’am. I – um …’

  ‘Good. In that case, you may continue to teach the boys, for the time being.’ At least she was good with Johnnie and to have him content and well-behaved was a deal to be thankful for. ‘Annie needs no further tuition. She will leave the classroom as from today. That is all, Mrs Pennington. Kindly tell Mr Thistlethwaite I would like to see him.’

  Thiss and Bessie appeared together three minutes later. They stood as close to one another as they could get and it was plain from the expressions on their faces that they had been listening at the keyhole and knew what had been said, for Bessie was bolt-eyed with anxiety and Thiss was brazenly embarrassed.

  ‘Sit down, the pair of you,’ Nan said, grinning at them as they eased themselves onto the edge of two of her fine chairs. ‘Thiss, you’re an arrant rogue!’

  ‘Couldn’t resist, mum, as the fly said to the spider’s web.’

  ‘Ah well,’ Nan said, trying to look cross and failing, ‘you will have to marry, then. That’s all there is to that.’

  ‘She’s only to say the word, mum. I’d ’ave ’er an’ willin’.’

  That made Nan laugh out loud. ‘If the governess is to be believed, you’ve done that already, and many’s the time.’

  Poor Bessie was horribly embarrassed. ‘We didn’t mean no harm mum,’ she pleaded. ‘’E don’t take no fer an answer, that’s the truth of it.’

  ‘Never did, Bessie,’ Nan assured her. ‘So agree to wed and we’ll have all settled. You will need two witnesses, Thiss. Family perhaps?’

  Thiss grinned at her. ‘I got bruvvers an’ sisters all over the place,’ he said. ‘Don’t ask me where. One a’ me bruvvers went fer a soldier, ’nother was pressed, last I ’eard tell.’

  ‘Parents then?’

  ‘Dead an’ gone the both of ’em. What was why I went ter France in the first place. Not ’avin’ no family to speak of. No, no, Matthew Howlett will stand witness
for me.’

  Bessie was so surprised to hear it, she forgot herself and spoke out before Mrs Easter. ‘How d’yer know?’ she asked.

  ‘’Ave you arsked ’im?’

  ‘Course,’ Thiss said. ‘Ain’t erxacly a new idea this, yer know. Been on me mind fer some time, you might say.’

  But Nan had been considering Bessie’s matronly bosom rather than Thiss’ mind. ‘Not a minute too soon, if the child en’t to be a bastard,’ she said.

  This time it was Thiss’ turn to drop his jaw with surprise. ‘You never said nothink,’ he said to Bessie. And Bessie blushed and ducked her head and looked pleased with herself.

  ‘There’s a deal you need to say to each other to my way of thinking,’ Nan told them. ‘But first you must tell me of old Mrs Dibkins.’

  The atmosphere in the room changed at once.

  ‘She’s mortal bad, Mrs Easter, mum,’ Bessie said. ‘She’s got a great lump on her side the size of a duck’s egg. Terrible great lump. I seen it.’

  ‘She don’t complain,’ Thiss said. ‘You ain’t ter think that. She’d be mortal put out to be heard complainifying. She ain’t said narry a word a’ complaint. Not even when she took ’er tumble.’

  ‘She fell?’

  ‘All of a sudden, mum, an’ couldn’t get up again nohow, poor soul,’ Bessie said.

  It occurred to Nan that she hadn’t seen either of the Dibkins since her return. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Kep’ to ’er bed these last three days,’ Thiss said. ‘Mr D’s been a-carin’ for her.’

  ‘I will go and see her,’ Nan said, and went at once.

  The old lady was huddled in her truckle-bed in the corner of her claustrophobic room behind the kitchen. She had turned her face to the wall and appeared to be sleeping, but when Mr Dibkins stood up to greet his mistress in a harsh croaking voice, she opened her eyes and tried to turn onto her back. It was plainly beyond her powers. Mr Dibkins had to help her, hauling at her shoulders, while her hands clawed ineffectually at the blankets. But as her face was revealed by the light of the candle, Nan could see that she was very ill indeed and was ashamed because she hadn’t noticed it before. Her odd distorted face had grown so thin she could see the bones under the taut skin that covered her cheeks, and the skin itself was a most unhealthy colour, a dirty greyish yellow.