by Betty Annand
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As time progressed, Gladys accomplished more in ten hours than Laura could in twelve, and although it allowed the landlady more time to spend in the bar listening to the local gossip, there was still something about Gladys she didn’t like. She could tell by her speech that she was no guttersnipe. She had even seen her reading a newspaper. None of her other employees had ever shown signs of being educated, and Laura liked it that way. It gave her a feeling of both superiority and dominance over them.
Laura had also heard about Gladys’s friendship with the seamstress, and she’d seen the two fancy dresses hanging in the girl’s attic room. One of the frocks was fancier than even she could afford. It just didn’t make sense why someone like Gladys would have to work as a housemaid. She finally consoled herself with the thought that it didn’t really matter why Gladys came to work at the inn, so long as she did her job.
To make sure that Gladys knew her place, Laura gave her the most difficult and undesirable jobs like cleaning the dirty outhouses—a job so objectionable it made Gladys bilious even though the outhouses in Old Nichol had been far more disgusting. She often thought that if she hadn’t killed old Gaylord, she would tell Mrs Watt to clean the outhouses herself and go back home.
Things were much easier when Laura visited her mother in Scotland. Neil was content to give all his attention to the running of the pub and leave Gladys and the rest of the maids on their own. During one of the times when Laura was in Scotland, Gladys left work early, and went to the shoemakers to order a pair of soft leather slippers. The only shoes she owned, except for the oversized shoes she had taken from her parents’ junk yard, were the ugly, black working boots that Laura had given her.
Finding a shoemaker to make a pair she could afford took more time than she had anticipated, so she had to complete her chores in the evening. She was down on her knees scrubbing the passageway that led from the kitchen to the pub when she heard someone playing a tune called “Jones’ Ale” on a concertina. Knowing the song well, she unconsciously began singing the lyrics as she worked.
A customer who happened to be sitting at a table near the hallway overheard and motioned to the musician to play a little quieter. Then he signalled the rest of the customers to come closer in order to hear the sweet-sounding lyrics as Gladys sang. They couldn’t resist joining in on the chorus—
“When the landlord’s daughter, she came in,
And we kissed those rosy cheeks again.
We all sat down and then we’d sing,
When Jones’ Ale was new, me boys, when Jones’ Ale was new.”
When Gladys realized there were others singing, she looked up and was surprised to see a huddle of five ruddy-faced characters all grinning down at her. Her face went crimson with embarrassment, and she tried to hide it behind her wet soapy hands. Then, when no one spoke, she felt obliged to mumble a weak, “I’m sorry.”
“Aye, and ye should be!” was the reply.
She had no alternative but to drop her hands and apologize again, “I didn’t think you could hear me. I really am sorry.”
One of the men gruffly replied, “You will be a lot sorrier, my girl, if you don’t finish the song.”
A hand reached down along with a demand, “Give me your hand now, and let’s get you over by the bar where we can hear some more of that sweet-sounding voice.”
Gladys was ashamed to put her rough and reddened hand into the stranger’s, but even more afraid to refuse. The music began again, and she had no recourse but to finish the song. After the applause died down, she was cajoled into singing more songs, in spite of Neil Watt’s frown of disapproval. However, as the night wore on, even he couldn’t help but be impressed, especially when she sang “Lovely Willie,” which was one of his favourites. He even joined in on the chorus.
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The next evening after Gladys had left to visit Millie, the same men returned to the inn, bringing along a half dozen new customers, women included, to hear the young songstress. Neil was all smiles until they began to complain and demand to know when the lassie with the voice like an angel was going to sing. Some had walked a fair distance to enjoy a musical evening and felt cheated when she didn’t appear. Neil tried to explain that she was just a housemaid and not an entertainer, but it did little good. When they threatened to leave and never return, he offered them all a free round—something he had never done before, and in all probability, would never do again. He also promised Gladys would be there to entertain them if they returned the following evening.
A free drink was something none could refuse, but when they finished the drink most of them left. One fellow Scot hit Neil on the shoulder on his way out, and said, “You dinna ken what a fortune you have with that lassie, Neil,” and another added, “Sure an’ she’s a voice that’s as captivating as a revivalist’s spiel.”
Neil repeated his promise to have Gladys there the following night and was happy when they said they would be there and bring more friends. However, they also warned him that if Gladys didn’t sing, they would no longer patronize his establishment. Neil, feeling certain she wouldn’t refuse, took the warning lightly. The following morning, he was waiting in the kitchen to tell her that he expected her to sing that night. Although she thought he should have had the decency to ask her, she agreed. She had enjoyed singing with the men, finding it a pleasant departure from her tedious routine.
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The first time Gladys sang in the pub, she was clad in her drab and dirty housemaid’s uniform and dust cap. This time she took special care with her grooming and, although the dress she chose to wear was the plain one she had purchased from Millie, she knew it was still very pretty and decided it would be perfect for the occasion. By the time she left her room, she was very pleased with her appearance. Except for a few ringlets hanging saucily down her neck, her hair was pinned up neatly and adorned with a pretty yellow ribbon. However, her confidence soon faded when she entered the pub and saw the large crowd of customers waiting to hear her sing.
She was about to make a swift retreat, when one of the men she had sung with two nights before took hold of her arm and escorted her to a table. It took a lot of persuasion, plus two hearty drinks of whiskey, before she found enough courage to render a note. Nonetheless, before long she began to relax and enjoy herself. For the first time in her life she began to understand why her mother loved performing in the pubs of Old Nichol. All the customers looked at her, not only with admiration, but with envy as well, despite her nervousness. It was her first taste of fame, and she loved it.
Because most of the customers knew the songs, they joined in on the choruses, which added gaiety and harmony to the occasion. No one wanted the evening to end, but Gladys had to bid them goodnight in order to get a little sleep before morning. After everyone left, Neil, eager to count the night’s take, hurried to lock up. Twice during the evening, it was necessary to leave Gladys serving the customers while he went to the basement for more ale, something he had never had to do before. When he found that his earnings had more than doubled, he began to see the possibilities of Gladys’s presence in the bar.
But when he asked her to sing again the following evening, she refused, saying she had far too much work to do as it was. Neil was surprised and annoyed that she would have the nerve to say no. Afraid of losing all his new customers, he grudgingly offered to take over some of her chores. Perhaps if a hint of friendship had accompanied his offer, Gladys might have agreed, but even though she enjoyed the singing and would have appreciated his help, it was far more gratifying to see him squirm. Furious, Neil did all he could to stifle his anger before leaving her with the suggestion that she think it over during the night.
Gladys did think it over—very carefully. She knew how desperate Neil was to have her sing, and, smiling decisively, she reasoned that it might be to her advantage to refuse him, and to see how far he would go
with his offers. The idea that it could be the start of a new life appealed to her, and she decided to make the most of the opportunity.
When Neil approached her the next day and found that she was still adamant in her refusal to perform, he was left with no alternative but to resort to obsequious pleas while following her around the pub as she worked. Finally, she lay down her dusting clout, went into the inn’s pub with Neil at her heels, sat on a chair, and declared, “Mr Watt, if you would be kind enough to fetch me a drink, perhaps we can come to an agreement.”
Neil’s blood rose to the boiling point and his face turned crimson. “Just who do you think you’re ordering aboot?” he shouted.
Gladys would tell Millie later that he was so angry, she could almost see smoke coming from both of his ears, and she prayed he wouldn’t notice how terrified she was as she got up and started to walk away. Her heart was beating rapidly as she heard Neil deflating his anger with a volley of curse words. But then she relaxed as he called her back.
“Och, dinna get your back up, lassie. Sit down and I’ll bring you a drink.”
Gladys accepted the offer, and, after taking a sip of the refreshing brew, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and said, “I am very sorry, Mr Watt, but it is far too difficult to be both a housemaid and an entertainer.”
“I canna see why,” he answered sharply.
Gladys almost lost her nerve, but she knew that it was now or, more than likely, never. She straightened her back, and, looking much more complacent than she felt, replied, “Well, one of your customers said that I could more than likely find employment as a barmaid and singer in any of the other pubs in Dover.”
Neil was so taken aback by her brazen announcement that he sat with his mouth hanging open for a time before mustering breath enough to shout, “You are out of your head, lass! Now you’ve gone too far. Ye can pack up your belongings and git. Go and find another job if you can.” With that he rudely grabbed the mug of ale out of her hand and stomped out of the room.
Gladys knew she should run after him and apologize but her obstinacy was stronger than her sensibility. Suddenly, the realization of what she had done caused her to panic, and she almost gave in until she remembered that she had a year’s wages along with her gratuities saved. With a weak shrug of her shoulders, she picked up her dust clout, and loudly announced to the empty room, “And I’ll make bloody certain that they can’t say I left without finishing my chores.”
When her work was done, she ate a hearty dinner, hugged and bid Hilda a sad farewell, packed up her few belongings, then offered a fallaciously, cheery goodbye to Neil on her way out the door.
Neil’s answer to her farewell was a loud and churlish, “Good riddance!” Had he known how gruelling and disconcerting the next few days would be without her, he would have realized what a mistake he had made.
Neil thought he’d have no trouble coping. All he had to do was divide Gladys’s chores between Becky and Lily, but it only took a few hours for him to realize that they could hardly keep up with their own work let alone Gladys’s, so he had to take over the tasks himself. No matter how rigorously he attempted to complete even the easiest chore, he was unsuccessful, and his lack of diplomacy did nothing to soothe the complaining guests.
To add to this dilemma, he didn’t have time to open the pub until evening, which angered his regular daytime customers. They would bang boisterously at the door, annoying both him and his guests. When he opened that evening, his regular customers were so disappointed to find that Gladys no longer worked for him that many of them left without buying a drink.
Things were in dire shape when Laura returned from Scotland, and when Neil welcomed her with unexpected enthusiasm, she knew there was something amiss. When he filled her in on the events that had taken place while she was away, he expected a tongue-lashing, but was pleasantly surprised to find her sympathetic. Although she was impressed with the amount of profit Neil had taken in on the two evenings that Gladys had entertained, she wasn’t sorry to be rid of her.
She changed her mind after weeks of hard work and listening to the constant complaints from the few customers they still had. Laura became tired enough to admit she had been wrong and not canny enough to realize that the girl’s talent could prove to be an enormous asset. She began to think that if the lass were to attract enough customers, she and Neil could even enlarge the pub.
Visions of grandeur overtook her, and she pictured the inn as the most patronized drinking establishment in all of Dover. In no time they would be able to sell the inn and buy a grand one in Scotland. When she began belittling Neil for being so near-sighted, he put up with her nagging for two weeks. Then his patience gave out.
“Shush your gob, woman. You’ve said enough. If you want the lassie back, go and find her, an’ see if you can come to an agreement.”
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As soon as the door of the inn closed behind her, Gladys had realized she was homeless. Millie was her only friend and would take her in, but Gladys knew that she wasn’t allowed guests. For a time, she stood outside the inn, not knowing what to do, before she decided that Millie might know of a place where she could afford to rent a room for a few days while looking for work. She only hoped Millie wasn’t going to be too angry with her for quitting her job.
Millie was more concerned than angry. “What are you going to do now?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve nowhere to go, Millie. Do you know any place where I could find a few nights lodging while I look for work?”
“You are not going anywhere. We shall fashion a pallet—that is if you don’t mind sleeping on the floor?”
“Of course I don’t mind, but what about your landlord? I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
“We shall just have to be discreet and not let him know you are here. It shan’t be easy, my dear, but as far as I can see, we have no choice.”
“Oh, Millie, I don’t know how I will ever repay you.”
Millie was an excellent seamstress, but not very astute as a housekeeper, so both the shop and her living quarters were in a state of disarray. In a few days, Gladys had the entire place scrubbed and shining and still managed to cook their meals and help Millie with her sewing in the evenings.
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Millie’s landlord lived in a nearby town and came by once a month, not only to collect the rent and to inspect his buildings, but to keep his tenants on their toes. He preferred to catch them unaware and often dropped in unannounced. This happened two weeks after Gladys moved in. Gladys was in the back when he arrived and fortunately overheard Millie talking to him.
After, a few questions about the state of her affairs, he announced, “Now I shall just go and have a look in the back, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh, no, you mustn’t,” Millie answered without thinking. Her attitude caused him to become suspicious, and he pushed her aside and entered the fitting room.
Gladys was ready for him; she had shed her frock and was clad only in her underpinnings when he came in. She screamed, “How dare you, sir! Mrs McIver, what is this man doing in here? Get out, I say! Get out!”
The landlord’s face turned crimson as he apologized and stumbled back into the shop. “Excuse me, miss, I didn’t, ah, I didn’t know.”
Gladys continued the gambit by calling out to Millie in what she thought to be an aristocratic pitch, “Really, Mrs McIver, you must take more care with your clients, or I shall be purchasing my frocks elsewhere.”
Millie, suppressing a giggle, joined in the charade, “I am so sorry, my dear Mrs Peabody; it shan’t happen again, I assure you.”
“I should hope not! Now do come and finish this fitting, I must have this frock ready for the mayor’s garden party.”
The landlord, a prudish bachelor, had never seen a woman so scantily dressed. He wiped the sweat from his brow, offered Millie a mumbled apology, and hur
riedly took his leave. Millie watched out the window until he was safely out of sight before she ran into the other room. “He’s gone—probably never to return,” she announced, and they laughed until their sides ached, Millie’s makeup was ruined, and she was forced to make a quick trip to the outhouse.
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Gladys didn’t mind sleeping on the floor, especially since her surroundings were much cosier than a dreary, dark attic, and Millie seemed to be enjoying her company. Although they both knew the arrangement had to terminate before long, they continued to defer the subject. One sunny afternoon when Millie had a full day of appointments, Gladys took Taffy for a walk alone and was just returning home when she noticed a man sitting on the bottom stairs leading up to the Harpers’ flat.
“Hello there! You must be the girl Mother has told me about. It is Gladys, is it not?”
Gladys nodded her reply, then said, “You must be Jeffrey,” as she reached out her hand.
Her action both surprised and amused him. He had never met a young lady who had the audacity to instigate a handshake instead of curtsey before, and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he took her hand in his. Then he noticed the hurt look on her face, and his smile quickly faded as he apologized. “I am terribly sorry; please don’t think me rude. I’ve heard such nice things about you from my parents. It is so refreshing to meet a young lady who doesn’t put on airs.”
Gladys wasn’t sure if she should be flattered by his words or insulted, but he had such a cordial look to his countenance that she decided he meant it as a compliment. It was quite brisk out, and when he told her he was waiting for the woman he had hired to finish with his mother’s toilette, she took the liberty of inviting him in for a cup of tea.
In spite of Jeffrey’s rank in society, they found quite a few topics of common interest to talk about as they drank their tea. Jeffrey enjoyed singing, and Gladys was surprised that they knew many of the same songs, but she wasn’t surprised when he said his wife and her friends didn’t appreciate them at all. In between customers, Millie joined them, and she could see that Jeffrey was enjoying himself. He and Gladys were chatting away as though they were old friends, but when Gladys asked him if he and his wife had any children, Millie thought she was being too familiar. She was relieved, however, when Jeffrey’s face lit up, and he told her that they were expecting their first child in about a month.