Miss Sylvia will not let me look at the painting till it is done. I would dearly love to see it, if only to tell if she has put my spots in.
Today I told her how I am teaching Alfie his numbers. She says she has a brother, too, called Harry, and she loves him very much. I said I love my brothers much better than my sisters, and she looked right up at me over her brush as though she understood. Maybe I will tell her about Frank next week.
To stop me fidgeting she asked if I would like to look at a book. I said I should like it very much and she gave me one with only pictures and them very silly. After a while she asked if I did not like it and I said I thought it very fine but where were the words? She looked a lot surprised and said, ‘Do you read then, Maggie?’
‘Yes, Miss. And I know nine psalms.’
She looked mightily ashamed and went immediately to choose me a book with words. It was fat and dull, about what I do not know and after a while I was back to shifting about. Miss Sylvia set down her brush and fetched me a beautiful book full of animal drawings, with words under of where they lived and what they liked to eat.
There is a big stripy cat called a leopard that can eat a whole man, and another with spots that lives in trees and can run faster than a locomotive. Miss Sylvia had two times to ask me to sit up for I was so bent over the book I had forgot why I was there.
I hate Cook. She has shouted at me all day long and now it is to come from my wages and I do not know how I can ever take money home again. I was to do the silver and she told me to take a cloth and some powdery stuff and rub it all over the spoons and knives and forks and anything silver I could find and then to polish it off. She said it was a salmon and now no one could eat it without dying of poison and it had cost over a shilling. And when it was dinner time I had to take in the cold pie that was nearly gone from yesterday, with potatoes and a cabbage, and Mr Roe looked so grieved and made a humphing noise. Afterwards Mrs Roe came down to the kitchen and said, ‘Mrs Jenkins, did we not decide on fish for today?’ And Cook’s face went all stiff with vexation and she said, ‘Yes, ma’am, indeed we did, but young Maggie here has put an end to that, I fear.’
‘Oh?’ said Mrs Roe, looking mightily surprised.
‘The girl has only polished it.’
‘Polished it?’
‘Thinking it to be silver, ma’am. I’ve said it will come from her wages.’
Mrs Roe gave a little start and put her hand to her mouth, then hurried away back to Mr Roe, and soon we heard a great deal of laughing, though I don’t know why.
Today I made a glace. There was company, and Cook said we must make something tasty as it was all ladies and they might like something cooling. First we took bread which I chopped very fine, then some sugar and two eggs and a pint of best cream which the man said I could not have if I did not give him a kiss, but Cook heard and hit him with a big spoon so I did not have to. She said if he says that again I am to tell her and she will hit him with a copper pan, which made us laugh so much. Cook is not so bad.
The ladies were very noisy. They arrived all together, four of them, chattering like starlings, and hardly a word for Mrs Roe who was waiting to receive them, but straight into the parlour (as the not eating room is called). There they made more noise. I was sent to tell Miss Sylvia and down she came, looking quite neat with her hair all smoothed and a big white collar and dark blue dress, although I did see she had paint still under her fingernails.
I asked Cook if the ladies were artists also and she rolled her eyes upwards and said, no, not at all, and she wondered if some of them were even ladies from how they went on, some of them. I thought best not to ask any more.
After a while Mrs Roe came down to say they were ready for refreshment so I took up a tray with lemonade and the glace and they all whooped and cheered and quite fell upon it like the animals in Miss Sylvia’s book.
At a little after five the ladies came rushing out and went running off down the path like the bobbies were after them. When I went into the parlour Miss Sylvia was still there. She was scribbling away at a piece of card with a stick of charcoal and, of course, had got some on her collar! I asked if I might clear and she said, ‘Of course, Maggie. I’m sorry we’ve made such a mess. We didn’t realise the time. I hope they haven’t missed the omnibus.’ I thought, I hope they haven’t, too, or they’ll be back here and there’s no more lemonade or time to make it. Then she held up the card that she was drawing on and said, ‘What do you think of this, Maggie?’ It was of a woman, just the outline, but very soft and wavy, with one arm stretched upwards and the other clasping a book with ‘Victory’ writ across it. I said, ‘It’s very fine, miss,’ not wanting to make myself foolish like the last time. She nodded. ‘It would be, Maggie, if it were so. And it will be one day. That I’m certain of.’ Then she set aside the drawing and said, ‘Maggie, will you tell me something?’
‘If I can, miss.’
‘Do you think men have bigger brains than women?’
I stared at her, thinking she must have very little brain at all to ask me such a thing.
‘Maggie?’
‘I do, miss, yes. For they are bigger altogether so must have.’
‘Yes, but elephants are bigger by far than men. Does that make them cleverer?’
No answer came to me.
After supper was cleared and the dishes washed Cook told me that Mrs Roe says I am to have a new dress. It seems the ladies had marked that my skirt is high above my ankles now and that, owing to fatness round my chest, the bodice is frightening tight. She will speak to her niece who teaches sewing at a poor school and see what can be done. I am so excited. For best I would like it to be red with flowers all over like I saw once on a lady at the Black Prince. She was much whistled at by the men which I should not like, but it was a very pretty dress and her chest was very fat, so perhaps mine would not notice.
Miss Sylvia says I may see my picture next week. It is nearly finished. I could, if I wished, take a peek when I am cleaning, but then she might ask me, and it would be a wicked thing to lie to her when she has given me so much cake.
I told her I am to have a new dress. She said she was glad for me, but did not ask me one thing about the colour or cut or anything.
She is very happy because her mother and sister are to visit. I wonder when I may go home. Mrs Roe says I need not pay for the fish but I must ask Cook before going my own way again. She is a lady. Mr Roe has quite taken to smiling at me and keeps asking if I have polished the sausages or the beef or whatever he is eating at the time, to which I reply, ‘Please, no, sir,’ which makes him laugh mightily.
I am teaching Cook to read. She caught me looking at the master’s paper and asked me what good staring did when there was work to be done? I said I did not stare.
‘What then?’
‘Reading.’
She laughed and said, ‘Then read me something.’
So I did. At first she thought I was making it up but then I stumbled on a funny name so she knew it must be true. ‘I’ll teach you if you want it.’
She said no, never in a thousand years. She’d got this far without. But next day she called me over and told me to read her some more, so I read her the price of currants and how to make a jelly from cows’ brains and she said it was a disgrace to charge so much for currants, but I was to read her out the brains again so she could put it to her memory. I said, ‘If you could read, Cook, you would not need to remember’, so she made a huffing noise and said, ‘Maybe. I’ll think about it.’
Since that I have read her a little every day and given her a letter to learn, though on Friday there was nothing about food, so I found a little patch about a man who wanted the men to vote for him and he would give them jobs, he said, but before they could decide two women shouted out and asked why they should not have a vote as well and the man was very angry and would not speak to them and they were carried away by two policemen.
When I had finished I saw that Cook’s face had gone all wh
ite and pink. I thought she was vexed with me again but she just said, ‘Is it true? Are you making it up?’ I said, how could I be, for I knew nothing about such things and cared a good deal less? Then she took my arm real hard and said, ‘Do you not know who those two women were?’
‘It does not say.’
She spoke so low I could scarce hear, ‘That is the sister of Miss Pankhurst, and her mother, maybe, too.’
Mrs Pankhurst and Miss Christabel Pankhurst visited today. I was never so frightened in my life. I had my new dress on, which is the most horrible thing in the world. It is brown without so much as a stitch of another colour. Just brown. I hate brown. It is the most horrible colour in the world. The only thing I do not hate is it does not squeeze my chest and my ankles are covered. Miss Sylvia asked me in the morning why I looked so wretched but I said nothing, knowing it was wicked of me to feel so rankled when it was done from good feeling and kindness. But brown! If there really is a heaven I hope there may be nothing brown there. Not even sugar or sausages.
Mrs Pankhurst is the most beautiful old person in the world. She does not look old at all, but must be for she has two grown daughters and more besides. Her cheeks are high and rounded like doorknobs and her eyes are like violet jewels. She is so clean. It is hard to think how Miss Sylvia can have so much hair falling down when her mother is like a perfect picture of tidiness. Still, I am very fearful of her. She is like a great power that is silent till roused forth like a mighty lightning.
Miss Christabel Pankhurst is the most beautiful person in the whole world. She is beyond the riches of Sheba. Her hair is dark as currants and wound round so it glows like an angel’s halo. Her skin is pale and pinky with little dots round her nose and her eyes shine like blue stars. Her voice is low and strong and she wore a most beautiful white blouse with tiny flowers in blue and yellow all over it and a black skirt. I felt like a muddy puddle beside them.
Cook had told me they were to take tea with Miss Sylvia in the parlour, and I must be sure to cover the tray with a linen cloth, and not to slop the tea. A little after three a cab drew up and out got two ladies. Cook said, ‘You’d best make haste or Mrs Roe will be there before you,’ so I ran up the stairs from the kitchen and opened the door and there they were, stately as queens. I almost thought I should curtsey but luckily Miss Sylvia came hurrying down the stairs just then and they were too much taken with greeting each other to see if I had or I hadn’t. I took their coats and that was when I saw how fine their dress was, especially Miss Christabel’s – much finer than her sister’s – and I wished with all my heart I had had on my old one which was grey and at the least did not make me look like ditch water.
I showed them into the parlour, thinking how different they were from Miss Sylvia’s lady friends that had run off to catch the omnibus. I cannot imagine Mrs Pankhurst ever running. Rather she would glide like a swan, and Miss Christabel would soar like an eagle.
At five o’clock Cook sent me to clear the tea and I was just piling up things on the tray when Miss Sylvia said, ‘You can leave those for a minute, Maggie. I’ve something for you to see.’ At which Miss Christabel leapt up and said, ‘Something for us all to see. Lead on, fair sister,’ and she flung open the door and marched out into the passageway. Mrs Pankhurst rose very gracefully and followed and Miss Sylvia called out to them, ‘Straight to the top of the stairs and turn left. Come on, Maggie. I need to know what you think.’
Well, I did not know what to think except that whatever it was I should not dare let it out of my mouth in such company. Up we went. I was glad to see Miss Sylvia had tried a little to make the place tidy. In one corner, nearest the window, was her easel. It was covered with a cloth. In a moment I realised what was to happen and felt my stomach come right up into my mouth.
She pulled back the cloth and there I was, sitting, looking far away as though I could see forever, but instead of a book in my lap she had painted a cloth for polishing and beside me some rusty pans.
Mrs Pankhurst went right up close to it and gazed and gazed. ‘What do you think, Mama?’ Miss Christabel asked. Her mother nodded her head very knowingly and said ‘Hmmm’ in a thoughtful sort of way.
I feared this might mean she did not like it, but Miss Sylvia looked so tickled with just that one ‘Hmmm’, that I knew it must be the highest form of praise. Miss Christabel, too, was much taken with the picture and said it showed my soul. And then they all three fell silent and I knew they were waiting for me to speak. So, thinking it the finest thing that was ever done – so like me I could have been looking in a mirror, except that, Lord be praised, I was wearing my grey dress – I dragged up all my courage and said, ‘Hmmm’, as loud as I dared.
They all three fixed their eyes on me as though I were quite the quaintest creature they ever had come upon, and then Mrs Pankhurst simply burst out laughing and then Miss Christabel and Miss Sylvia, too, and Mrs Pankhurst laid her hand on my arm and said, ‘Maggie, you are a singular girl. A very singular girl.’
I did not know if this were good or bad, but she smiled so sweetly at me that I guessed she meant it kindly, so I said, ‘Thank you, ma’am. I’m much obliged.’ Then Mrs Pankhurst took out a beautiful silver watch on a chain and said, ‘I think we must be going, Sylvia, my dear,’ and so we all went downstairs again and just as I was fetching their coats, Mrs Roe appeared and was greeted like an old friend. ‘And we are to come to you on Wednesday, Mrs Roe, if that is agreeable still?’ Mrs Pankhurst asked. Mrs Roe said it was. Mrs Pankhurst thanked her heartily. ‘We shall be about ten in number, I think, but you are not to think of refreshments. Sylvia will attend to all that.’ I thought it not a good idea to leave Miss Sylvia in charge of such arrangements and she clearly thought so too, for she gave a little smile and said, ‘In which case I shall ask Maggie to help me, if Cook can spare her at all that day.’ Mrs Roe said she felt certain Cook would. I was not so sure but after our supper when Cook and I were sitting together and I trying to teach her the difference between ‘E’ and ‘F’, I said, ‘Miss Sylvia would like me to help her next Wednesday if I can be spared.’
‘Help her what?’
‘To provide refreshments for ten ladies.’
Cook rolled her eyes. ‘Let’s hope they are more ladies than the last lot.’
It being two months since I had visited, Mrs Roe said I might go home on Sunday. It was raining and by the time I reached our house I was dripping like a gutter. Ma came to the door. She looked ill, but when she saw me her whole face brightened right up. I said, ‘It’s me, Ma, and I have brought you some biscuits.’ They were ginger which will either cure my nan or kill her. Ma is well gone with the baby now, and I never knew her to look so worn. Her skin is yellow like a candle and her eyes ringed with dark. I gave her my wages – four shillings all but three halfpence which I had spent on some ribbon for the collar of my new dress. It is green. I wanted yellow but it was a farthing more. Cook showed me how to sew it and a wicked business it was. My fingers were so punched full of holes I felt like just wiping them over the dress till it was red. She says she will teach me properly when there is more time, but that I do not have a natural way for it. I could have told her she does not have a natural way for reading – it is weeks now, and she still cannot remember beyond ‘J’, and usually only ‘I’.
Pa gave me a big squeeze and said because it was me, he would light the fire. I think he meant because I had brought so much money, but I still felt proud that he should do it.
Ma sent Alfie out to buy some faggots for our dinner. She gave him a sixpence which was far too much but he came back without any change. I chid him hard and said he must go straight back and ask for the tuppence that was owing but he just threw his arms about and went and sat in the corner. Ma said not to fret and she would speak to the butcher come the morning. I knew she would not, so while she was tending to Will, I put on my cloak and ran all the way to the butcher’s which was just on the point of closing.
‘What can I do for you, miss, in su
ch a hurry? You’d best be quick. I’m on my way to church,’ he said, all smarmy smile.
I said, ‘You can give me back the tuppence owing that you forgot to give my brother.’
He looked real surprised and angry and sort of squinted at me over the counter. When he realised who I was he smiled again, all smarmy still. ‘I wouldn’t have known you, Maggie Robins. All grown up in your fancy gown.’
‘Well, you know me now, Mr Green,’ I said, ‘and if you could hand me the change of the sixpence Alfie gave you, I’ll be grateful.’
He glared at me long and hard, then reached below the counter and brought up a black tin box. ‘I was going to call round to your ma’s on my way home,’ he said, handing me the tuppence. ‘She hadn’t ought to send your Alfie out on errands where there’s money. What if he’d lost it? Where’s your dinner then?’
I was so vexed that he should try to blame Ma that I just smiled all frosty at him. ‘You being such a good churchgoer, Mr Green, I expect you’d’ve given it him for free.’ I turned smart on my heel before he could think to reply.
After dinner I decided I must give Alfie some teaching. Although I do not like Mr Green who thinks himself so close to heaven he would have an angel to polish his wings, I fear it is no help to Ma if Alfie cannot tell how much to pay and get back when she sends him to the shops.
I sat him down by me and told Lucy to go away for she, of course, wanted to hang over his shoulder giggling at each mistake. She made a face like the madam she is and slumped down by the window where she set to drumming her fingers on the sill like a rat in the rafters. Little Evelyn sat at my feet quiet as a lamb.
Crooked Pieces Page 2