Whispers

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Whispers Page 6

by Rosie Goodwin


  ‘I don’t know.’ Granny Reid pushed a strand of greying hair from her forehead as she placed a damp huckaback cloth over the dough and left it to rise. ‘This place is gettin’ to be little better than a bawdy-house, wi’ all the Master’s goin’s-on.’ She clapped her hands, sending a cloud of flour into the hot kitchen. ‘Thank the Lord the poor Mistress left when she did. I wonder the poor lamb stuck ’im for as long as she did.’

  Grace and Martha exchanged an amused glance as the older woman shuffled away to the oven to check the goose that was cooking in it. They knew what their granny was like when she got a bee in her bonnet about the Master.

  ‘An’ has the wine arrived yet? I ordered it two days ago.’

  ‘Not yet,’ Grace answered.

  ‘Huh! Happen it won’t neither.’ Granny Reid tutted. ‘If he don’t settle some of his bills soon, we’re goin’ to have to go further afield for supplies. Hammond’s in town nearly shut the door in poor Bertie’s face when he took the last order in, an’ they told him there’ll be no more till the accounts is settled.’

  Bertie, who was sitting at the kitchen table eating his lunch, nodded in confirmation.

  ‘They did that, an’ so did Lumley’s,’ he said. ‘The Master’s bills are as long as yer arm, but when I told him what they’d said, you’d have thought it were me as had run the bills up.’ He bit into a thick slice of bread and cheese. ‘An’ I’m tellin’ you now,’ he mumbled, ‘the wine in the cellar is almost gone. Lord knows what he’ll do when his guests turn up tonight if it don’t arrive. No doubt that’ll be my fault, an’ all.’

  ‘How can it be your fault?’ Grace said protectively. ‘An’ what guests are these? You mean to say there are yet more comin’?’

  Bertie nodded. Lowering his voice and leaning towards them, he said, ‘Aye, there are ladies from the brothel in town comin’ to entertain ’em, from what I overheard the Master tellin’ his cronies.’

  ‘God above!’ Granny Reid quickly crossed herself as she wiped her hands on her apron. ‘Didn’t I tell you this place were becomin’ a den o’ vice? That lot in there ain’t stopped drinkin’ an’ gamblin’ since they arrived, an’ now this. Huh! It’s a fair disgrace, so it is. Martha – I want you to keep as far away from ’em as yer can. I don’t want the likes o’ them mixin’ wi’ my girls. Do you hear me?’ She shook a large wooden spoon at Martha as the girl nodded mutely then turning back to Bertie she demanded, ‘An’ are these women goin’ to be stayin’ over? If they are, we’ll have to get some more bedrooms ready.’

  ‘I can only assume so,’ Bertie muttered.

  Granny Reid stared off through the window towards the lake. ‘It’ll be his mill in Attleborough goin’ under next,’ she said worriedly. ‘An’ if he loses that, what will become of us? He may only pay us a meagre wage, but at least we have a roof over us heads an’ food in our bellies.’

  ‘Now Granny, don’t get thinkin’ the worst,’ Grace soothed as she placed her arm about the woman’s slight shoulders. ‘I’m sure it won’t come to that. The Master has a good manager at the mill, doesn’t he, Bertie?’

  ‘Aye, he does,’ Bertie agreed. ‘The problem is, if the Master doesn’t order in the stuff to keep the mill workin’, then even the best manager in the world can’t keep the place runnin’ on fresh air.’

  ‘Well, happen this ain’t the time to be frettin’ about it,’ Granny now stated matter-of-factly. She ran her kitchen with military precision and even now when she was sorely vexed at the goings-on around her she had no intentions of letting her standards slip. ‘Martha, you go and start to set the table in the dinin’ room, an’ you, Grace, help me to get these vegetables dished up. Happen all we can do is cross each bridge as we come to it.’

  Lifting her long brown calico skirt, Martha scuttled away to do as she was told.

  At seven o’clock that evening, a carriage pulled up outside and four women emerged, eyeing the house with interest.

  ‘Just look at the state of ’em,’ Granny Reid said scathingly, as she spied on them from the hall window. ‘If their dresses were cut any lower, their titties would fall out of ’em, so they would. An’ would yer just look at their painted faces.’

  ‘Shush an’ come away to the kitchen,’ Martha urged as she took the woman’s elbow. ‘The Master will skin us alive if he catches us gawpin’.’

  Once back in the sanctuary of the kitchen they found Grace busily working on a length of fine blue satin that the Mistress had left behind. She had found it in the loft and the Master had told her she might have it, so now she spent every spare minute, which were few and far between, transforming it into her wedding dress for when she married Bertie.

  ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ she sighed. They had just finished washing up all the dinner pots and now had a little spare time before they had to start the supper for the Master and his guests, and Grace didn’t intend to waste a second of it.

  ‘It is that,’ Martha said. She adored her older sister for her kind and gentle ways, and would gladly have laid down her life for her, if need be.

  Glancing up, she found Granny staring at her. ‘You look worn out,’ the old lady commented as she finished polishing one of the huge copper pans before hanging it with the others above the enormous range. ‘Why don’t you away and get an early night, love? Me an’ Grace can see to the supper. The vegetables are all ready, an’ I only have to slice the cold meats. Everythin’ should run smooth now that the wine order ’as arrived. Happen his lordship will be in a better frame o’ mind now.’

  Martha hesitated but Granny stood firm. ‘Go on now an’ do as yer told. The further away from them hussies that have just arrived you are, the happier I’ll be. I doubt as they’ll even touch the meal anyway, they’re all too busy gamblin’ an whorin’ to worry about food.’ She shook her head in disgust as Martha bent to kiss Grace before scuttling away to her room. It had been a long day and in truth she was glad of a chance of an early night.

  ‘Goodnight, love,’ Bertie said as she passed him at the door to the hallway.

  ‘Goodnight.’ Martha hurried through the long hallway and once she had reached the first landing was just in time to see one of the Master’s guests disappearing off into a bedroom with one of the gaudily dressed women who had just arrived. She stifled a grin as she thought of what her granny’s reaction would have been. Up in the attic, she opened the small window and breathed in the muggy night air. The room was baking hot and she could see dark clouds building. It looked like they might be in for a thunderstorm, but Martha thought that would be no bad thing. At least it might clear the air and cool things down a little. It had been unbearably hot working in the kitchen today. They had all been hard at work since first light, and only now did she realise just how tired she was.

  Shrugging out of her skirt, she then unfastened the row of tiny buttons down the front of her blouse and folded it neatly over the back of the small chair. She then hastily washed in the cold water in the bowl on the washstand and pulled her nightshirt on before releasing her hair from its long plait and falling into bed. She could faintly hear the sounds of laughter and shouting coming from the floor below, but she was so tired that in no time at all she was fast asleep.

  The Master’s guests stayed for three days and as the last carriage pulled away, Granny heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Thank God that unholy lot ’ave gone,’ she muttered. ‘Though Lord knows ’ow much the Master must ’ave gambled away, an’ lookin’ at the state o’ the house, it’ll take us another three days at least to put it to rights. Why, they were worse than animals.’

  ‘Aw well, that’s what we’re paid for,’ Grace pointed out in her usual gentle way. ‘An’ at least now Bertie can start sortin’ through the stuff in the attics again to see if there’s anythin’ else he can salvage for our rooms.’

  The Master had given the young people permission to help themselves to any old pieces of furniture they found in the attics, which Bertie was only too happy to do.

  ‘Yes, and
we’ve got the fair at the Pingles Fields to look forward to on Saturday an’ all,’ Martha piped up with a grin, her lovely blue eyes sparkling.

  Grace laughed. ‘Well, I just hope they haven’t still got that great bear chained up this time,’ she commented teasingly. ‘You didn’t stop crying all the way home after you saw him last year.’

  Martha tossed her head indignantly. ‘So what if I did? It was cruel,’ she retorted.

  ‘That’s enough chit chat, me gels,’ Granny commented drily. ‘Off you go an’ get them mucky beds stripped. It’s a good dryin’ day today wi’ this bit o’ wind if you get a shufty on.’

  ‘I’ve already got the coppers heatin’ up,’ Grace replied as she followed Martha, and soon the sisters were busily stripping the soiled linen from the beds, the fair forgotten for now as they worked side by side to get the house back to rights.

  The day of the fair dawned bright and sunny, and Martha worked with a will to do her chores so that she could get ready.

  ‘Eeh, yer look a rare treat,’ Granny Reid remarked when she entered the kitchen all ready to go out later that afternoon. Martha’s hair was free of its plait today and she had tied it back with the pretty red velvet ribbon. She was wearing her Sunday best dress, which Granny had fashioned from an old one that the Mistress had passed on to Grace. There seemed to be a glow about her, and the old lady eyed her suspiciously.

  ‘Just goin’ to the fair you’re lookin’ so pleased about, is it?’ she enquired.

  Martha had the good grace to blush as Grace quickly grabbed her hand.

  ‘Come along, else it’ll be time to come back afore we even get there,’ she urged and so the two sisters set off.

  They were going down the drive when Grace scolded, ‘I hope you haven’t arranged to meet young Jimmy Weeks at the fair, Martha?’

  Martha had met Jimmy, who worked on the neighbouring Leathermill Farm, the week before at the market and he had walked her home and kindly carried her basket for her.

  ‘I haven’t, as it so happens,’ Martha snapped. ‘But what if I had? I’m not a child any more, Grace, and I like Jimmy. He’s kind an’ he’s handsome.’

  ‘That’s as maybe, but you’re a little young to be walking out with anyone just yet.’

  Martha opened her mouth to protest but stopped when she saw the Master galloping towards them on his coal-black stallion.

  They stepped to the side of the drive, but when he drew abreast of them, Master Fenton reined his horse in and looked at Martha approvingly.

  ‘My, my, don’t we look pretty today? Off to the fair, are we?’ He leaned down from his saddle and tilted Martha’s chin up to him.

  She blushed at the compliment, thinking how nice it was of him, but Bertie’s face turned a dull brick-red colour, and when he made to step forward, Grace clung on to his hand as she yanked Martha from his grasp with her other.

  ‘Yes, sir, we are – an’ so if you don’t mind we’ll be on our way else it will hardly be worth goin’.’

  Without another word the young woman dragged Bertie and Martha along as the Master followed Martha with his eyes before slapping his whip sharply against Prince’s flank and galloping away at breakneck speed, his tail-coats flapping wildly behind him.

  ‘Poor bloody ’orse,’ Bertie muttered as he clenched his fists. ‘No doubt the beast will be all of a lather again by the time he gets him back to the stables.’

  ‘Well, that’s not for you to worry about tonight,’ Grace told him sternly and then turning her attention to Martha she said forcefully, ‘Don’t you ever get yerself in a position where you’re alone wi’ him. Do yer hear me?’

  ‘But he only said I looked pretty,’ Martha objected.

  ‘That’s as maybe. But keep yer distance all the same.’

  Totally confused, Martha nodded and they made the rest of their journey in silence.

  Once at the fair, Martha was happy to find that the bear wasn’t there, although she worried about what might have become of him. There was a snake charmer and a bearded lady, however, but Martha was too busy keeping an eye open for a sight of Jimmy Weeks to take much notice. They wandered about the side-shows, but somehow since the encounter with the Master the joy had gone from the day and the trio made their way home in a subdued mood.

  Martha was feeling slightly angry at Grace because of the way she had talked to her, and although she had never kept a secret from her sister before, she decided that if she should see Jimmy again, she wouldn’t tell her about it. She was tired of them all still treating her like a little girl. And what had all that been about, when the Master had told her she looked pretty? Grace and Bertie had looked fit to burst with anger. It was all very confusing.

  Once back at the house, Martha kissed Granny Reid a hasty good-night and went upstairs to the attic. She had no wish to be in their company any more that evening.

  Once in bed, she wrote the happenings of the day in her journal until her candle began to burn low.

  As she came to the end of the page, Jess snapped back to the present with a jolt. The girl’s writing had been so vivid she almost felt as if she had gone back in time and had actually been there. She sighed as she lay trying to imagine what Martha might have looked like. Already the picture that was emerging of Mr Fenton was not a good one. He had obviously been a waster and a scoundrel, and Jess wondered what had eventually become of him. No doubt she would find out later in the journal.

  Yawning now, she replaced the book in the drawer and turned off the bedside light before slipping into a deep sleep. It was the early hours of the morning when someone shaking her arm brought her blinking awake to find Jo standing at the side of the bed, sobbing uncontrollably.

  ‘Mum, there was someone in my room – a lady. She was standing at the side of my bed looking down on me. Can I come into bed with you and Dad?’

  ‘Oh, darling.’ Jess instantly hotched closer to Simon as Jo slid in beside her. ‘You’ve just had a bad dream. Either that or it was the moon playing tricks as it shone through your window.’

  ‘That’s what you said to Mel when it happened to her,’ Jo shot back accusingly. ‘But I’m telling you she was there. I woke up and she was standing there – I swear it.’

  Jess wrapped the child in her arms, alarmed to find that she was shaking.

  ‘We’ll talk about it in the morning. You just get back to sleep now,’ she urged.

  An uneasy feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach. What if Laura had been right and there really was a spirit here walking the corridors of Stonebridge? Both Mel and Jo had seen it now, and what about all the times she had thought she had heard someone close behind her, only to turn and find that she was alone?

  Pull yourself together girl, she scolded herself, or you’ll be jumping at your own shadow next. There are no such things as ghosts! And on that positive thought she eventually dropped off into a restless doze.

  Chapter Seven

  Next morning, Jo was unwilling to go to school. ‘I’ve got a headache and my belly aches,’ she complained as she pushed her cereal round the bowl.

  Jess paused in the act of buttering some toast as she eyed her youngest. She did look pale, admittedly, but her school attendance record was excellent, so Jess supposed that missing just one day wouldn’t hurt.

  ‘All right then, finish your breakfast and go and hop back into bed. You’ll probably feel better later on if you have a good rest.’

  Jo shook her head. ‘I’m not going back into my room,’ she stated. ‘She might still be there.’

  Mel’s ears were pricked up now, and not wanting to blow the situation up out of all proportion, Jess told Jo, ‘Then go and get back into my bed and I’ll come up and see how you are when I’ve got your dad off to work and I’ve run Mel to school.’

  ‘I don’t feel very well either,’ Mel put in, keen to jump on the bandwagon, but Jess wasn’t having any of it.

  ‘You were quite all right until you knew that Jo was having a day off. So go and get your
schoolbag, please, miss.’

  Mel slouched away from the table, casting an evil glare at Jo as she went, but thankfully she didn’t argue and minutes later she was sitting in the car at the side of her mother with her arms tightly crossed and a rebellious expression on her face. When Jess pulled up near the school gates, Mel got out of the car and stamped away without so much as a by your leave.

  Jess sighed heavily. She was still running the girls to school each morning although they were now walking home alone in the afternoons while it was light, which had freed her considerably. Today however, she wondered if she had done the right thing in making Mel go. Oh well, there was nothing she could do about it now. It hadn’t been the best start to the day, that was a fact.

  By the time she got home, the decorators were unloading their van. They were going to start work on the dining room today and Jess was looking forward to seeing it done.

  She made them a tray of tea and carried it through to them before taking the stairs two at a time to check on Jo, whom she found fast asleep in the middle of her bed. Satisfied that the girl was resting, she softly closed the door and slipped away.

  Jo came back downstairs shortly before lunchtime looking a little more like her old cheerful self.

  ‘Feeling better are you, sweetie?’ her mother asked, through a mouthful of pins. She was busily re-upholstering the chairs she had found in the attic.

  ‘Yes, thanks.’

  ‘Good, then why don’t you go and get dressed and I’ll make you something to eat. You can take Alfie for a walk then.’

  Jo hesitated for just a fraction of a second. She was obviously still unsure about going back into her old room, but Jess sensed that if she didn’t make her do it now she might never want to go in there again.

 

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