‘Parakeets and macaws,’ John read from the sign. ‘And a peacock. That’s it, there,’ and he pointed at the bird strutting along the floor of the cage, pausing to peck hopefully at the dirt, one leg delicately raised and his magnificent tail trailing behind him.
‘Just look at those colours,’ marvelled Ella. His iridescent blue-green throat feathers and the black-and-white eyes on his tail fascinated her. She would have liked to watch him for longer, to see whether he would fan his feathers and raise his tail, just like the painting on the top of the wagon, but the press of the crowd forced her on.
Now they were all being marshalled behind a rope barrier to watch the larger animals being paraded before them. First was a huge elephant, with skin that looked too big for him and ears that he flapped irritably. He seemed to fix Ella with his surprisingly small eyes as he shuffled by with his keeper, a chain shackled to his front leg. She felt uneasy. What if he broke free? The camel that lumbered past next was less of a threat. He was large too, but shambling, and he looked quite ridiculous with those strange humps. Ella found herself smiling foolishly at him.
‘Are those painted horses?’ Ella asked John in wonder as a number of striped horse-like creatures danced past.
He snorted scornfully. ‘No, they’re zebras. I’ve seen them in my A–Z of Animals book. Look at their manes and tails. They’re quite different to horses.’
The main event – the lion taming – was heralded by a great roll of drums. One of the trainers they had seen earlier, taking centre stage on the steps outside, now stepped forward, flicking his whip menacingly. He announced to the now-hushed crowd that he was about to put himself in great danger by entering a cage with the King of the Beasts. Ella noticed that the lion was actually looking rather sulky, backed into the corner of his cage and resting his head with its magnificent mane on his front paws. His eyes were watchful, though, and as his trainer approached, flicking the whip, he lifted his head and roared, displaying a truly exceptional and terrifying set of teeth. The audience gasped and the animals in the other wagons set up an excited chattering, fluttering and stamping at the noise.
John grasped Ella’s hand tightly. ‘He won’t get eaten, will he?’ he whispered fearfully. Ella, who had been worrying about much the same thing, shook her head firmly. ‘No, he does this all the time. He knows what he’s doing.’
As the trainer stepped forward to open the door of the wagon the lion rose to his full height and snarled menacingly, causing the crowd, as one, to take a few steps back. With a crack of the whip the trainer had the door open and had slipped inside, keeping the beast at bay by flicking his whip close to its nose. The spectators gasped and cried out as the lion was put through his paces, first being made to stand on a painted stool so tiny it looked as though there was scarcely room for all four of his huge paws. His trainer followed this by making him jump through a hoop and then walk a narrow plank balanced across two stools. Through it all the lion snarled and swished his tail angrily. Ella, from a combination of the heat of the crowd and the tension of watching the act, was starting to feel quite dizzy. A final ferocious spate of whip-cracking heralded the grand finale. The lion lay down on the floor and the tamer, victorious, planted his boot firmly on his back. Ella, realising that she had been holding her breath, exhaled slowly as everyone around them applauded and cheered. The trainer nimbly exited the cage and bowed to the crowd while the lion, safely behind bars, stalked to and fro at his back.
‘Did you enjoy that?’ Ella asked, as they filed back out into the fresh air.
‘Yes!’ John’s eyes shone with excitement. ‘I’ve only seen animals like that in books. Can you imagine, here they all are, sleeping out here at night, just a few yards from our house!’
They both considered that thought in silence, from quite different viewpoints.
Eventually Ella said, ‘Well, what would you like to do now? Although I’m not sure we will be able to top that,’ she warned. The sun had sunk towards the horizon while they had been in the menagerie and it would soon be dusk. ‘Besides, your father said I had to be sure to get you home before dark.’
‘Oh no!’ John protested. ‘Can’t we stay a bit longer? He’s not at home: he won’t know. Could I have just one more go on the coconut shy?’
Ella looked around her. Lights were beginning to come on around the fairground and she could see that it would look quite magical in the dark. They might never get another chance to witness it. She wavered.
‘Just a few minutes then. I don’t want them to be getting worried about you back at Grange House.’
John, intent on finding the coconut shy again, was barely listening.
‘Back again, young sir?’ The stallholder was already gathering the balls to hand over in exchange for John’s coin. Then, in a louder voice, ‘Make way for this young man. A bowler in the making I’d say. Might be in line for a coconut.’
People drew closer to watch and Ella felt nervous for John. Such was his determination, though, he seemed barely aware of the crowd that had gathered. The first ball went a little wide, the second struck the base of the coconut and wobbled it, to appreciative murmurs all round. John took careful aim with the third ball then let it fly. It hit the middle of the coconut with enough force to rock it but still it wasn’t dislodged. The crowd let out a collective, sympathetic sigh and John’s head drooped.
‘That was the last of my money,’ he whispered to Ella. Before she could respond, the stallholder, seeing the crowd beginning to drift away, announced: ‘An extra ball for the best contestant of the day.’ He handed a single wooden ball to the dumbfounded John.
The crowd regrouped and excited chatter gave way to silence as they registered John’s concentration. He took aim and fired straight and hard at the tip of the coconut. It rocked violently once and then toppled over.
The crowd cheered and the widest grin that Ella had ever seen spread across John’s face. The stallholder handed over his prize with a cheerful, ‘Well done, lad,’ then turned his attention to the queue of young men determined to replicate John’s success.
John felt the weight of the coconut in his hands then held it to his ear and shook it. ‘There’s something inside!’ he said.
Ella looked doubtfully at the strange nut, with its coarse, fibrous covering. ‘However do you eat it? I don’t see how you might open it.’
John shook his head happily. ‘I don’t want to eat it. I want to keep it forever!’
Ella laughed. ‘As you wish. It’s your prize. But we must go now. I don’t want to risk being in trouble for being late.’
Neither of them was in any hurry to part from the bustle of the fairground, though. The mirrors on the sideshows picked up and reflected back the sparkle of the lights and the glimmer of the gilding, which seemed so much brighter in the dark. As they dawdled along, drinking in the atmosphere, Ella was suddenly conscious of how few children there were in the crowd and that the evening visitors were of a different nature to the daytime ones. They were less well dressed and generally younger, but the mood was good natured and faces were flushed and smiling as John and Ella pushed through the crowd, towards the exit. It was there, with a sinking heart, that Ella spotted a grim-faced Mr Stevens.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
‘There you are!’ Mr Stevens sounded angry. ‘We were getting worried. Mr Ward expressly said you weren’t to stay out after dark.’ He paused and looked meaningfully at Ella. ‘He telephoned the house earlier to make sure you were back and Mrs Sugden felt she had no option but to say that you were, and that John was ravenous and having his supper but would make a call straight after to tell him all about it. We must make haste.’
Mr Stevens shepherded Ella and John across the expanse of grass towards the house. ‘And I can’t say that I was very impressed by the nature of the visitors I have seen whilst I was looking for you,’ he remarked disapprovingly.
Ella was feeling quite sick with worry. Had she overstepped the mark? Would she lose her place at Grange H
ouse once again?
John, meanwhile, broke away to skip alongside Stevens and tell him all about their escapades. His words tumbled out as he described his prowess on the coconut shy, displaying his prize, which elicited an admiring, ‘Well I never,’ from Stevens. John was in full flow, describing all the animals in the menagerie, as they mounted the stairs to the house.
Mrs Sugden met them in the hallway with a look that froze Ella to the core. She chivvied John straight up the stairs to the library to make a call to his father. Feeling miserable and deflated, with all the wonderful things that she had seen quite erased from her mind with anxiety, Ella went to hang up her outdoor coat and wash her hands before making her way to the kitchen.
Mrs Dawson raised her eyebrows as she entered. ‘Was it wise to stay so late? You don’t want to give Mr Ward any cause to let you go, you know.’
Ella groaned and buried her head in her hands. ‘I realise now how stupid I was but John was having such a good time…’
‘I don’t doubt it, but you were the adult in charge,’ Mrs Dawson said, setting a plate of food down in front of Ella. ‘Now, I’ve kept this warm for you. Let’s be hearing what you’ve been up to.’
Ella, listening out for Mrs Sugden’s return, struggled to do justice to both her tales of the afternoon and her supper. She picked at her food until she was spared further misery by the arrival of Mrs S, with John in tow.
‘He’s going to eat his supper down here tonight. No point in setting a table for him upstairs, all alone. And having heard what he had to say to his father on the telephone, I have no doubt he’ll be wanting to tell everyone here, too.’
Mrs Dawson quickly set out some food for John and made a pot of tea for the others. Ella noticed that even Mr Stevens had drifted in to listen. The coconut took pride of place in the centre of the table while John, in between ravenous mouthfuls of food, described their afternoon. Ella was only called upon to corroborate the finer details, so she could sit back and let her mind wander a little. With the story at an end and the coconut much admired, Ella announced that John needed to go up to bed. Once his face was washed and he was tucked in, with the coconut on his night stand, she set about quietly picking up his discarded clothes and tidying up until his excited chatter died away and he tipped over into slumber. Then, with trepidation, she headed back downstairs.
Mrs S called her into her office before she even reached the kitchen. ‘Ella, I had to tell Mr Ward a lie on your behalf this evening. I never want to be put in that position again. Mr Stevens has told me the sort of people that were at the fair this evening and I can only wonder whether you have taken leave of your senses.’
Mrs S paused and looked at Ella, whose heart sank. Was she about to be dismissed?
‘If it wasn’t for the fact that John has quite clearly had a wonderful time, I would be asking you to pack your bags this evening.’ Mrs S paused. ‘Mr Ward asked to speak to me after John had described his outing. He wanted me to pass on his warmest thanks to you for giving John such a special day out.’ Mrs S allowed herself a small smile. ‘But Ella, take care. You simply cannot afford to make another such mistake. You were very lucky this time.’
Hugely relieved and apologetic, Ella slipped from the room and made but a brief appearance in the kitchen, pleading a headache. She made her way up to her bed in John’s room, where she lay awake for several hours.
The encounter with Albert had upset her more than she cared to acknowledge. This, coupled with the trouble she had been in this evening at Grange House, made her disposed to making sweeping resolutions. She knew she had had a narrow escape after returning late from the fair, and that she had Mrs Sugden to thank for saving her skin. She had managed to upset Mr Stevens and earn his disapproval, when he had been so kind and helpful to her in the past. Ella reminded herself of the vow she had made when she came back to York: all thoughts of Albert, or indeed of any kind of romance, must now be put firmly out of her mind. From now on, she resolved, her future would be dedicated to working hard and taking care of others.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
So it was that Ella set herself the goal of living an unexceptional life. This was not without its challenges. She was only twenty-two and there were times at night when she stared at the ceiling in the dark and experienced a great wave of self-pity for the life she might have had. But the life in her imaginings involved Alice still being alive, and the family living happily and contentedly in Northwaite. If she examined this further, she could see the flaws in her fantasy. Even if there hadn’t been a fire at the mill, and even if Alice hadn’t died, the family would still have been faced with the challenges that the part-time shifts at the mill would have caused. Ella’s wages would have been halved and Sarah’s income would have been affected too: the villagers would have been hard-pressed to afford to consult her for herbal remedies. The secret passion that Albert had harboured for Alice probably wouldn’t have been reciprocated and her own life would have followed a very different course – one that wouldn’t necessarily have been better. Now she was experiencing what it was like to be part of a large household, in a big city and it was up to her to make the most of it. Even though she sometimes felt at a low ebb she knew that when she awoke the next day her life would go on as usual, with its attendant highs and lows. At times like these, she would remind herself of how lucky she was to be in such a secure position.
Every so often letters came from home, which gave her a boost as well as causing heartache. Beth sent pictures that were a joy; just simple sketches, yet they told Ella so much. Mr Stevens read the captions – which were often unintentionally funny – out loud to her. He read Sarah’s letters to her too, clearly finding the process a little uncomfortable although they rarely contained anything private, being concerned mainly with recounting what Thomas, Annie, Beattie and Beth had been up to. Sarah had given up her market stall to concentrate on her herbalism at home but there was so little other information in them that Ella worried yet again about what hardships might be being kept back from her. Yet on her rare visits home all seemed well. Any privations were either long gone or well disguised.
John caught sight of Beth’s sketches once, when Ella had left them on the kitchen table. At first, he seemed a little put out that there was someone else in Ella’s life, some competition for her heart. He made some unkind comments about Beth’s drawing skills and Ella couldn’t suppress a sharp retort.
‘I daresay that if she’d had the benefit of a drawing master as you do, John, you might find her more your equal.’
He must have taken the reproof to heart for the next day he delivered a drawing into Ella’s hands.
‘I thought you could send this to Beth,’ he said proudly. He had drawn Grange House from the outside with two figures waving from the windows, one being Ella and the other John.
‘Why, I’m sure she will love it!’ Ella was delighted and so began an occasional picture correspondence between Beth and John that continued over the next few years. No letters were exchanged, just drawings that at first depicted their everyday surroundings, then progressed to people and events, things that had caused them happiness and sadness – little glimpses into each other’s lives.
Once Mrs Ward and Grace had returned to the house, John started as a day pupil at school in York, just as Mr Ward had planned. Ella couldn’t believe the change this wrought in him, and in such a short time. He seemed to grow in stature as well as in confidence, returning home with tales of friends made and games played. He proved to be a swift runner, delighting in both sprints and cross-country; indeed, anything that took him away from his desk. It was soon apparent, though, that he had little aptitude for schoolwork. Each year his school report suggested that, ‘John could be an outstanding pupil if he would only apply himself,’ or ‘John has the ability to achieve academically, but consistently fails to do more than the bare minimum.’ His sporting prowess saved him, along with his easy good manners and charm, which hid a level of anxiety that was still prone to
flare up and cause him problems.
The return of Mrs Ward and Grace had given rise to much gossip among the servants. Mrs Sugden generally rose above such things, but even she had commented on how much better Mr Ward seemed with his family back together again. He had lost his tired, drawn appearance and began to make less frequent, and shorter, trips to Leeds. Mrs Ward seemed energised by her lengthy absence and threw herself into re-organising aspects of the house, planning the redecoration of various rooms. Mr and Mrs Ward seemed happy when together; Rosa, whom it was generally felt knew more than she was letting on as Mrs Ward’s lady’s maid, said rather mysteriously that all was resolved, then refused to be drawn further.
Ella had been rather dreading Grace’s homecoming but it proved to be nothing to worry about. Grace returned very much the grown-up young woman. She said she no longer had need of a lady’s maid, having looked after herself perfectly adequately over the last year or so, but at the first opportunity she took Ella aside.
‘I wanted to apologise to you over what happened. That silly business over the love potion.’ Grace looked embarrassed. ‘I was horrified when I heard that Father had sent you away. As soon as I realised, I told him exactly what had happened. I was young and foolish. I hope you can forgive me?’ Grace paused, as though a thought had only just struck her. ‘Did you have a terrible time? Were you without work?’
For a moment Ella considered whether it would achieve anything to tell Grace the truth?
‘I helped my mother,’ she replied, ‘with my siblings. And then Mr Ward was good enough to ask me to return.’
‘Your mother must have been pleased to have you back for a short while,’ Grace said, looking relieved that it had all worked out so well. ‘Now, please don’t think I meant anything by refusing to have you as my lady’s maid. It’s simply that I’ve managed without one for so long now that I’ve become used to fending for myself.’
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