by Betty Annand
“In fact I felt so depressed that I had no desire to join the gaiety the other actors were displaying as they changed their clothes, and no matter how much they tried to cheer me up, I just sat feeling sorry myself until they had all left. Finally, I began to see how silly I was behaving, and decided to get changed and join the cast in a nearby inn where we usually gathered after the closing of a play. I was almost ready to leave when someone knocked on the door. Thinking it was one of the cast coming back to get me, I called out rather irritably, ‘Keep your britches on, I’m coming.’ Then I put on my shawl, opened the door, and there stood the most handsome man I had ever seen.
“I have no idea how long I stood frozen like a statue with my mouth gaping open before the man handed me another bouquet and said, “You are even more beautiful than you appeared on the stage.” The next thing I knew I was riding in an elegant, open carriage with a fur rug over my lap.”
“Just like a princess.”
“That is exactly how I felt. He kissed me that night, and I had all the same sensations you had. Our rendezvous soon became habitual. I fell hopelessly in love, and, even though he confessed to having a wife and family, I continued to see him. Many men of aristocracy had mistresses, and although I never planned on being one myself, I found I hadn’t the will to turn him away. As I told you before, most wives of wealthy men think it stylish to be frigid, so I believed him when he said that he no longer shared his wife’s bed.”
Although Gladys found it very difficult to picture Millie living such an immoral life, she knew what a good person she was and didn’t judge her. She had learned all about mistresses the hard way, having made the mistake one night of addressing an elegantly dressed woman as the wife of the man she was with. The man never returned to the inn, and Laura threatened to fire Gladys if she addressed any more of the customers presumptuously. Since then, she vowed never to become anyone’s mistress, but she’d never say that to her friend. She did, however, ask Millie for her lover’s name.
“His first name was John; his last name I will never divulge, even to you. John wooed me like no other man had, but I held him at bay for many months before succumbing to his charms in spite of the many gifts he gave me: perfume, jewellery, and even furs. We continued to see each other for three years. Then, to my utter delight, I found that I was going to have his child. Until then I thought that I was barren.
“Because we could never marry, John enlisted the aid of a Mr McIver, a man he knew who had dallied away all his fortune, and was now dying of consumption. The man desired a decent burial, but had no money, so John promised to pay for the service and internment if the man would agree to marry me in order to legitimatize my unborn child. Shortly after the ceremony, Mr McIver most obligingly passed on, leaving me only his name as an inheritance.
“John found me a nice flat, and I sent off a letter to my parents with the news of their expected grandchild, but, sadly, it arrived too late. The theatre they were performing in caught fire, and because it was an old building with only one exit, they were among the twenty-six poor souls who perished. It took the joy out of my pregnancy for many months, but then, on the 15th of June, 1821, our precious son Michael was born, and my happiness was restored.
“Unfortunately, when he was just four years old, Michael became very ill, and the doctor informed us that he had a faulty heart and would only live for a year or less. John seemed to be as devastated as I and came to visit us more often. Even though Michael was small for his age, he was an exceptionally bright and happy little boy, and although the slightest exertion tired him, he never complained. He passed away two days before his fifth birthday.”
Tears were running down Gladys cheeks as she said, “Oh, Millie, I’m so, so sorry.”
Millie also had tears in her eyes, but continued, “My life fell apart that day and not just because of Michael’s death. His gradually declining health had prepared me for that. It was John’s reaction to his death that I could not bear. Oh, he said all the things I suppose a father should say after losing a child, but I could sense that his grief was coupled with relief.
“It damaged my love for him, and I could no longer submit to his passion. Being a gentleman, he bore my indifference well. Our affair had run its course. Since I had no luck finding work in the theatre, he paid my fee for a seamstress apprenticeship and gave me enough money for my keep until I could manage on my own. No man could have been kinder. We never saw each other again, and when I finished my training, I moved to Dover and have been here ever since.”
“That is the most romantic story I have ever heard,” Gladys swore, giving Millie a hug.
“Thank you, Gladys. Looking back now, I can understand how you would say that. I suppose I have dwelt on the sad times instead of the good ones. However, with a dashing sea captain for a father, you have also had an exciting life.”
By relating her own story, Millie had given Gladys the courage to confess. Taking a deep breath, she blurted out, “I am sorry, Millie, but I didn’t quite tell you the truth. Da wasn’t really a captain at all. He never even saw an ocean in his whole life.”
Millie put an arm around her and, nodding her head, replied, “I suspected as much, my dear.”
“You did? But why didn’t you throw me out if you knew I was a liar?”
“I guess I decided that you were more of a dreamer than a liar. Now why don’t you tell me the truth? I assure you, I shan’t think any less of you.”
Gladys was surprised how good it felt to finally have someone she could confide in. She admitted to being born in Old Nichol and confessed not only that she had run away, but her reason for doing so.
Millie had suspected that the poor girl was a runaway, but she never imagined there were actually parents so cruel they would sell their daughter for the want of a drink. She also felt a little like one of the gossiping women who came into her shop as she urged Gladys on, asking, “I have heard terrible things about that place. Is it as dreadful as they say?”
“I don’t think anyone can imagine how bad it really is, Millie. Even I had no idea until I discovered what the outside world was like.”
“Do you feel like telling me about it? If you would rather not, I shall understand.”
“Well, I don’t know if I can describe it.” After thinking about it for a minute, Gladys began slowly, “The sewers were open and were right alongside the back of the buildings, so you can just imagine the horrible stench. Come to think of it, when a person’s never lived anywhere else, they think everywhere is like that. I guess I did too, until I left. And now that I look back, I think the worst thing about the place was the water, or lack of it. You see, there wasn’t enough for everyone, and the little we were able to carry from the pump to our house was so putrid, some people, like Ma and Da, drank liquor instead—that is, if they could afford it.”
Since leaving Old Nichol, Gladys hadn’t spent much time thinking about how sordid her life was back then, and now, as she tried to describe it, she shuddered as the memories came back to her. As she continued, her words were as shocking to her as they were to Millie. “And some folks never ever bathed. Mind you, we were luckier than most because we had a rain barrel, and even after Ma became sick with liquor, she insisted I keep myself as clean as possible.”
“Now I know why you drink so much water and bathe so often.”
“You have no idea how wonderful it is to be able to do that. That’s what I appreciate the most.”
Millie, a little discomfited, found herself making excuses about why she didn’t bathe very often; “Another thing that surprises me, Gladys, is your speech. I have heard children from far less impoverished neighbourhoods than you grew up in speak, and it was apparent that they had no schooling. By what you have just told me, it is difficult to believe you had the opportunity to attend a school.”
“Oh there were no schools, or if there was, I never have heard of one except the on
e the nuns called Sunday school. They only had it twice that I can remember, and Da wouldn’t let me go. He said he went once when he was a boy and all those “penguins,” forgive me, Millie, but that’s what he called the nuns, wanted to do was to make him to get down on his knees and thank the Lord. He said he couldn’t think of one damned thing he owned that the Lord had given him, so why should he thank him.”
“Then how on earth did you come to speak so well? Perhaps your mother was an educated woman?”
Just the thought of that made Gladys laugh, and she assured Millie, “No, not Ma. But I did have a wonderful friend; a woman called Sally. Sally had been a governess before she came to live in Old Nichol, and she taught me a lot of things, like how to act like a lady, and how to talk better.”
“You mean, ‘how to speak properly.’”
“Now you even sound just like Sally.”
“I am sorry, Gladys. I had no right to correct you.”
“Oh no, Millie, please correct me every time I say something wrong. I need all the help I can get if I am going to learn how to be a governess.”
“I shall do my best. Tell me, did you have friends?”
“I did have friends, but it was very sad when they died. And most of them did.”
“How sad that must have been. I only had two friends when I was a girl. Actors seldom brought their children to the theatre when they were working, but I know that I would have been broken-hearted if one of them had died.”
“Death is something you get used to at a very young age when you live in the slums, Millie, but I think my very best friend is still alive. At least I hope he is. His name was Toughie, and he was my hero. I don’t think I would have survived without him. He had beautiful, shiny dark skin and his teeth were very white. His eyes were a warm brown colour, and his hair was even curlier than mine.” Gladys had managed to put Toughie out of her mind, but now as she described him to Millie, tears welled up in her eyes.
“I think that’s enough, dear. I know how memories of loved ones that we will never see again can be heart-breaking.”
When Gladys was leaving to return to the inn, she gave Millie an extra-long hug and said, “Millie, now we are more than just good friends. From now on, you are my family, and I will, I mean, I shall, never lie to you again.”
__________
From that time on, Millie coached Gladys on her diction and proper etiquette. Gladys, an attentive pupil, was determined to be as “ladylike” as any of the upper class women who sometimes came to the inn with their husbands to enjoy a night of music. Unfortunately, the more “ladylike” she became, the more she forgot that she was nothing but a barmaid and was expected to act accordingly. Her illusory self-image suddenly collided with reality one wet and stormy night when two upper class couples dropped in for a drink on their way to a party.
Having to make a dash from their carriage to the pub, their outer garments were a bit wet when they entered. Gladys was on her way back to the bar when one of the women held out a wet cape and ordered, “Here, girl, take this, and be sure to shake the water off before you hang it up.” Then pointing to her friend, she added, “And hers as well.”
Gladys, displeased with the lady’s haughty tone, reached out her hand, but a sudden impulse made her pull it back just as the lady let go of the garment.
“Now look what you’ve done, you stupid girl! Remove my cape at once from that dirty floor.”
“The floor is not dirty, and you can hang up your own cape on one of those pegs.” Gladys snapped back and pointed to some pegs on a wall just inside the door, before walking away. Both Neil and Laura were busy and didn’t witness the incident, but when Laura went to take the couples’ orders, the woman, who had no intention of letting the matter drop, said, in a loud voice, “I demand to speak to the proprietor.”
Startled by the woman’s tone, Laura stepped back in fear of being attacked, before she admitted, “Aye, that would be me.”
To which the woman replied, “Well if you are the management, I should like to know what sort of establishment you are running.” Then, not waiting for an answer, she pointed to Gladys and added, “That idiot girl threw my cape on the floor. I have never been treated with such disrespect.”
Before Laura could reply the other woman joined in, “She stood there and allowed Mary’s cape to drop on the dirty floor, then had the audacity to walk away. Such insolence is intolerable—especially from a barmaid. I usually have sympathy for hardworking servants, but even I would not endure such rudeness.”
In the previous months, Laura had noticed the change in Gladys’s attitude. She did her best to appease the group with free drinks and a promised apology from the barmaid before making her way over to Gladys. Then, within earshot of most of the customers, she gave Gladys a severe tongue lashing. The tirade came with a broader Scottish accent than usual, but Gladys understood enough to know that she could either apologize to the customers or lose her job.
Her face was burning with embarrassment, and she was on the verge of telling Laura that she would rather die than apologize, but as she looked around the room, expecting support, especially from the customers she had known for a long time, they all kept their eyes downcast and showed no empathy. It was then she realized that although they enjoyed her singing, they considered her nothing more than a mere servant girl. Knowing what a fool she had been, she vowed to show them all someday as she walked over to the customer’s table and delivered her apology, but she did it bending over the table lower than necessary, which infuriated the women and pleased the men.
__________
One summer evening in 1844, the pub was packed with guests celebrating the beginning of the direct rail link from Dover to London. Gladys was in the middle of a song when two uniformed men joined the crowd. They were greeted by friends with so much gusto that it drowned out Gladys’s voice, and she stopped singing. She was surprised to see that one of the soldiers was Tom Pickwick who called out to her, “My apologies, Gladys, please do continue—your sweet voice is what I’ve brought my good friend, Keith, to hear.”
Gladys was absolutely awestruck. Dressed in their attractive uniforms, both men resembled the pictures of all the princes she had seen in Sally’s storybook. They were both handsome and stood over six feet tall with muscular builds. They wore bright scarlet jackets, tight, robin’s egg blue trousers and white shakos, similar to one she had seen on the head of a toy soldier somewhere. It was all she could do to be nonchalant as they came toward her.
“Keith, this is the singing angel I’ve been telling you about. Gladys, this is my friend, Keith Corkish. He’s really not a bad sort—for a Welshman.”
Keith took Gladys’s hand, kissed it, and said, “Now I know why he’s talked about nothing else for the past eight months. Miss Gladys, an honour I would deem it, if you would consider me your humble servant from this night on.”
Gladys took an immediate liking to the man, not because of his light-hearted flattery, but because of the way he looked into her eyes when he said it. “I may hold you to that, sir!” she replied with a smile.
When Keith heard her sing, he was even more impressed and whispered to Tom, “I don’t know what you had to complain about, old boy, she could tease the devil out of me any time, and I’d come back for more. You don’t mind if I have a go at her do you?”
“Not bloody likely! She’s been on my mind for a long time now, and I intend to have my way with her even if I have to, to—”
“Marry her?”
“My god, I wouldn’t go as far as that!”
“If I thought I could take along someone who looks and sings like her to India, I would marry her myself.”
When Gladys finished her songs, both Tom and Keith gave her a standing ovation. Tom then approached Neil and asked if he might pay for the pleasure of having Gladys sit with them for the remainder of the evening. Neil, being a patriot of so
rts, and knowing there was little time left before closing, said the drinks would be on the house and that Gladys would be free to join them.
Surprisingly, she enjoyed the evening more than she had anticipated, since neither she nor Tom mentioned their past encounter. Both men had spirited personalities and their own unique attractiveness; Tom was suave and confident, while Keith appeared boyish and naïve, perhaps due to his red hair and freckles. They were looking forward to being posted to India and had many interesting stories from fellow soldiers returned from that exotic country to share. Both were due to receive their commission the following year and had been transferred to the castle in Dover for officer’s training.
Before they said good night, Tom said that he would be honoured if he could take her for a drive in the country the following Sunday. “Perhaps we could have a picnic,” he suggested.
“Will you be joining us?” she asked Keith.
“I’d consider it an honour, my dear,” he managed to say with a smile, despite the painful kick to his shins.
“Then, yes, I would love to.”
“Shall we pick you up after church?”
Gladys, who had never been inside a church, replied, “That would be lovely.”
Chapter Thirteen
The following Sunday, Tom arrived at the inn dressed in civilian clothes. He was driving the same chaise he used to take Mr O to the infirmary. When Gladys asked where Keith was, Tom said he had gone to visit his brother, but sent along his regrets. Although she was flattered when Tom had asked her to go out with him, she feared he intended to begin where he had left off the night they went to the infirmary, and she had counted on Keith’s presence to avoid an embarrassing situation. She felt guilty for thinking so badly of Tom, but she could think of no other reason why a handsome and wealthy gentleman would want to spend a day with a lowly barmaid.