by Betty Annand
“How wonderful!” Gladys exclaimed. “Won’t your mother be delighted to have a grandchild.”
His smiled faded as he shook his head and addressed both ladies in an almost pleading voice, “I would rather you didn’t tell her. I don’t know if I can explain it so you shan’t think I am heartless, but you see, my wife and her family are of a totally different class than my parents. Mother and Father understand, and believe me, they would not be comfortable in my wife’s or her parents’ company. God knows there are times when I’m not either, so I think it is better for all concerned to keep things as they are. If Mother knew about the baby, she would want to spend more time with it than my wife would allow, and I cannot bear to hurt her. She is such a wonderful person. Do you understand?”
Forgetting for a moment that she had denied her own heritage when she took the name of Tweedhope, Gladys answered as she often did, without thinking, and said, “I think you should stand up to your wife, and tell her you will take the child to visit your parents as often as you please.”
Millie choked on her tea, and after a few pats on the back to help regain her breath, she exclaimed, “Gladys! What a rude thing to say. You apologize to Jeffrey right this minute.”
“But, Millie, did you hear? Myrna and Ed are going to be grandparents, and Jeffrey isn’t going to tell them.”
“I heard perfectly well, but that is Jeffrey’s decision and has nothing to do with you. Now apologize.”
Gladys’s face turned red, and she began to say she was sorry when Jeffrey held up his hand and stopped her. “No, Mrs McIver, she only said what I needed to hear. Gladys, you are right. I have allowed my wife and her parents to push me around far too long. I put up with it because I was grateful to my father-in-law for helping me achieve my political position, but now that I am going to be a father, I think it’s time I practiced being a man.”
After he left to visit his parents, Gladys looked at Millie sheepishly, expecting a scolding, but Millie just shook her head and said, “One of these times your thoughtless remarks are going to land you in deep trouble, and when that happens, I hope I shall be there to say that I told you so.”
__________
Four weeks after Gladys left the inn, Laura Watt was outside Millie’s shop door early one morning, waiting for her to open in order to inquire about Gladys’s whereabouts. Gladys had left the premises early to purchase fresh vegetables at the market.
Worried that her friend might be in trouble, Millie demanded to know why Laura was interested in Gladys’s whereabouts. Unaccustomed to sounding contrite, Laura grimaced when she answered, “It seems that my man was a wee bit stern with the lassie, so if you can give her a message, will you tell the lass he dinna mean to dismiss her?”
Millie enjoyed seeing the woman grovel and replied, “Oh, I don’t think Gladys needs to work as a maid now, Mrs Watt, since other establishments have heard of her talents and offered her work at a decent wage. In fact, I do believe she has an interview tomorrow.”
“Och! Could you tell me where that might be?”
“Sorry, but I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Then, will you be seeing the lassie this day, Mrs McIver?”
“I think so. She usually drops in to see me every day.”
“Good! Good! If it’s not too much trouble, will you ask her to drop in at the inn this day?”
Millie shrugged her shoulders and answered indifferently, “I suppose I could.”
Millie’s blasé attitude irritated Laura, but she had no choice other than to thank the seamstress and leave with hopes that Gladys would receive the message. Not long after, Gladys returned to the shop.
“Look, Millie, I found these nice small beetroots and new potatoes to go with the leg of mutton I shall cook for us tonight.”
“That’s lovely, dear, and I have something interesting to tell you. Believe it or not, our illustrious Mrs Watt came looking for you this morning.”
“Oh my heavens! I hope she isn’t after me for leaving. If she is, I shall just tell her the truth; I didn’t leave of my own accord. Her husband let me go.”
“Well, I do not think you have to worry; she actually came to apologize for her husband’s behaviour.”
“I can’t believe she would say such a thing. Honestly, did she really?”
“She did, and she wants to see you today. I suspect to offer you a barmaid’s job.”
Gladys squealed with delight. “I shall go there right away. I can’t wait to find out what she wants.”
“Don’t you dare! You must not appear too anxious. Moreover, I informed Mrs Watt that you are going to have an interview tomorrow for a more suitable position and will no longer consider taking such a menial job as a housemaid.”
“Millie, you are simply wonderful! Do you know that?”
“I do know that I am becoming far too accustomed to telling falsehoods.”
“Isn’t it fun, Millie?”
“Not if you are caught, my dear; not if you are caught.”
__________
Gladys’s reception at the Scots Inn was far more pleasant than her first encounter with the owners, albeit it insincere. She was offered tea and biscuits, which she nonchalantly accepted. After a few moments of awkward silence, Laura gave Neil a sharp dig in his ribs to loosen his tongue. He coughed a little and then began, “You’ll recall, lass, we had a wee squabble a few weeks past?” Gladys merely nodded, so he continued, “Well, that’s neither here nor there. Now, we talked it over, and we just may have another job for you, if you’ll take it.”
“It depends, Mr Watt, on what the job is and what my wage shall be.”
“What would you think of being our barmaid in the evening and doing a wee bit of maid’s work in the day? Of course, we would’na mind if you sing a song or two while you serve the customers.”
The thought of being a barmaid pleased Gladys, but since she intended to be hired on her own terms this time, she kept the couple in negotiation for over an hour before arriving at a mutual accord. She agreed to move back into the attic the next morning after receiving a promise that if, and when, the Watts hired another girl, the girl would be housed in the attic, and she would be given a small room with a good sized window on the third floor.
On her way back to Millie’s shop, Gladys visited the baker’s shop and bought two large Eccles cakes to celebrate. Millie was busy with a customer on her return, so she was unable to share the good news until they were seated at the dinner table.
Proudly, Gladys told Millie how she had outwitted the Watts, “I will have a few chores in the mornings, but they are all clean chores, like making beds, ironing, hanging out the washing and maybe do the mending, now and then—”
Millie interrupted, “Oh, ho! Now that the woman thinks that you know how to sew, she shall have you altering her dresses and, more than likely, making her husband’s shirts.”
“Don’t worry, I shall simply tell her I do not know how to sew. I shall be able to have a little time off in the afternoon before dinner. Then I am to be the barmaid. I don’t even have to pay to have a bath, and, best of all, I shall have most Sundays free. Of course that means a little less pay, but won’t it be wonderful to have a whole day with nothing to do? I’ll take long walks in the woods and along the shore. Oh, Millie, I’m so happy!”
Millie, knowing how much she would miss the girl’s company, wasn’t so elated, and explained, “Although you have only been with me for a short time, I feel as though we are family, and I shall miss you dearly.”
Putting her arms around the seamstress, Gladys hugged her tightly and promised, “Don’t worry, Millie, I will visit you often.”
Chapter Nine
Gladys’s musical talent and lively personality brought so many customers to the inn that both Neil and his wife were kept busy serving drinks and food. Everything was working satisfactorily until Lily, t
he chambermaid, left to look after her sick mother, and Laura had to take over her chores. The extra work proved too demanding for a woman her age, and one night after the last customer had departed, she complained to Neil, “I canna keep up with it all. You have to hire another lass.”
Neil, overjoyed with their success, surprised her with his cheery retort, “Laura, me love, you can have two lassies, or even three.”
“What did you say?”
“I said you can hire as many lassies as need be.”
“You’re either off your head or you’re fou wi’ whiskey.”
“I’m no fou, woman! Do you mind the fellow Lyle, who comes for a meat pie an’ a pint every Tuesday?”
“The cobbler?”
“Aye, that’s the one. Well, do you ken he has a wee laddie working in his shop, and two lassies cooking an’ cleaning for him?”
“Good for him, but what’s that to do with us?”
“Well, he dinna pay them as muckle as a farthing. Lyle said there are those in London so poor they’ll give up their lassies for just a wee stipend. Now, if we have a mind to, he can arrange for us to have one or more. All we have to do is go to London to fetch them.”
“Och! I’ll no take part in such an act. It’s as sinful as buying slaves. I dinna belong to the ‘Anti-Slavery Society’ for naught.”
“But, do you ken, woman? The lassies will starve if you leave them where they be. If we give them some good food, a decent frock, and a warm bed to lie in, they’ll be far better off. And we can give them a wee bit o’ a wage as well.”
Laura’s aching back did more to convince her than Neil’s words, but her consent came with one condition, “I’ll not take a lass under the age of twelve.”
One month later the arrangements were made for Laura to travel to London and bring home two young girls if they met with her approval. However, two nights before she was to leave, she suffered a severe bout of ague and felt too ill to travel. Since Neil had no idea how to judge the girls, Laura decided to send Gladys in her place.
The thought of returning to London terrified Gladys, but when she learned that the stage coach would be going directly to Victoria Station, she began to look forward to the trip, feeling confident that no one from Old Nichol would be in that part of town. She hurried over to tell Millie, who made it her business to see that Gladys was not going to London dressed like a servant.
“You must wear that frock I gave you for Christmas, my dear, now that you have the chance to show it off.”
“But, Millie, I was saving it for something special!” Gladys insisted.
“Nonsense. What could be more special than a trip to London? If you intend to be a governess someday, this is the ideal time for you to dress up and practice being a proper lady. And you had better behave like one. Hold your head high, and talk quietly with a certain tone of authority.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“Then I advise you to say as little as possible; then no one will know the difference.” Millie laughed as she went into the store and returned carrying some interesting looking items. “Now to compliment your pretty green dress, you shall wear this brown velvet cape. See, it has a dark green satin lining, and here is a pair of brown, soft leather gloves to match the brown piping and nodes that are on your dress. I do have a lovely hat that matches the cape, but I think this pretty little straw bonnet will be far more comfortable for travelling. There! Now your ensemble is complete.”
Gladys put on the cape and the hat then twirled around in front of a mirror trying to see herself from every angle. She wished Sally and Toughie could see how ladylike she looked.
When she came into the kitchen wearing her outfit on the morning of her departure, Laura had just taken a mouthful of tea and would have choked to death if Hilda, the cook, hadn’t been there to give her a few slaps on her back. Perhaps Hilda used more force than necessary, but as she told the scullery maid when they laughed about it later, “It didn’t half feel good.”
Although Laura had seen Gladys’s good dress hanging in the attic, she hadn’t seen the cape or the other pretty accessories to go with it. Now the sight of her employee dressed in such grandeur shocked her so that when she stopped choking, she demanded to know how a barmaid could afford such finery. Gladys was tempted to tell her that it was none of her business where she got her clothes, but knowing what a temper Laura had, she was afraid of ending up out on the street without a job instead of on her way to London. She confessed that the cape, bonnet, and gloves were all borrowed from her friend, Millie McIver.
Laura wasn’t sure she believed her, but because Gladys was such an asset to their business, she couldn’t afford to make accusations. She shrugged her shoulders, handed her three envelopes containing money, then explained that one was for travelling and lodging expenses, one for the man who would take her from her hotel to meet the girls, and one to give to the person who would fetch them.
Then she gave Gladys orders about what to do on her arrival at Victoria Station. “You have to find a cabriolet or an omnibus that will take you to number five Laurel Street where there’s a room reserved for you at the Grover Hotel. On the morn after you get to the hotel, a lad by the name of Sandy will come and take you to meet with the lassies. Now you must give them a good once over to make sure they’re fit, do you ken?” Gladys promised to do her best, and after enjoying a hearty breakfast that the cook insisted she eat, she left for the station.
__________
The journey to London proved to be far less enjoyable than she had anticipated, mostly because she had promised Millie to act as sophisticated as she appeared. The coach, much larger than the one she had arrived in, held eight passengers who all treated her with respect. If it wasn’t for Millie’s advice, she would have laughed and chatted away merrily with them all; but she played her role well, smiling sedately and saying little. By the time they arrived in London, she was thoroughly fed up with the charade and wished she had worn an outfit that allowed her to be herself.
As soon as she got off the coach and saw all the vendors’ stalls, Millie’s advice was forgotten. She went from one stall to another, greeting the vendors with friendly smiles and admiring their wares. They in turn were surprised and flattered that such an obviously wealthy and beautiful young lady would treat them so.
Some of the items in the stalls had exotic titles such as French lace, Moroccan slippers, and West Indies’ spices, making them that much more appealing.
Food vendors were selling all types of fish. There were shellfish and eels, alive or cooked, and stalls with an assortment of fowl and cuts of meat that Gladys couldn’t identify. The stalls she liked the best were the ones selling beautiful, hand-tooled leather goods, and delightful toys and figurines carved from a variety of exotic woods. Their pleasant fragrance dulled the odious smell of the city.
Suddenly realizing how late it was, she began searching for a conveyance when she spotted a group of people gathered around one of the vendors. She couldn’t see what they were looking at, but there was a column of steam rising over their heads and a smell so tantalizing that it compelled her to inch her way through the crowd to have a better look.
A thickset, elderly woman with a faded green bandana tied around her head sat on a beer keg behind a rough wooden table cutting potatoes into small pieces and placing them into one of the two large wooden buckets in front of her. She seemed to be oblivious of her audience and continued her work without looking up. Near the table stood an apparatus Gladys recognized as a blacksmith’s forge.
The forge was alive with red-hot coals on top of which sat a huge kettle of boiling fat. This was watched over by a rotund man wearing a leather apron, whom Gladys took to be a blacksmith. She was just about to take her leave when the man lifted a large wire butterfly net-like basket out of the kettle. It was filled with pieces of potatoes similar to those that the old lady was cutting up, but the
ones in the basket were a glistening golden-brown colour.
The man emptied the basket into the empty bucket, refilled it with the cut up potatoes from the other bucket, and carefully lowered it back into the boiling fat. Meanwhile, the old woman began doling out the hot, cooked potato chunks onto pieces of newspaper for the waiting customers. Gladys would have liked to stay and wait for the next batch, but it was getting late, and she didn’t know how long it would take to get to the hotel.
She had turned to leave when she heard the old woman say, “’Ere, m’lady, there be one chip left. ’Ere, try it.” She couldn’t resist the temptation and reached out to take the piece of potato, but the old woman pulled her hand back. “You’d best take off your glove, m’lady. You might soil it!” Gladys blushed with embarrassment. The old woman had been more careful to save Millie’s lovely gloves from being grease-stained than she had. The piece of fried potato proved to be one of the tastiest morsels of food Gladys had ever eaten. She thanked the kind woman and would have stayed to have more, but time was running out.
She had brought along a little of her savings, hoping to purchase a small gift for Millie, but since it was so late, she decided to wait and look for something on the way back. As she went to look for a ride, the taste of the cooked potato was still in her mouth, and she thought how nice it would be if there was a way she could take some home for Hilda, so she could try making them.