The Little Orphan Girl

by Sandy Taylor

  I glanced at my reflection in the big hall mirror. I was wearing a little white cap on my head, and a white apron over my dress. My eyes were bright, my cheeks slightly flushed. I looked tidy and neat, professional.

  I tucked a stray hair behind my ears and went over to the sideboard, where a young man dressed in waiting clothes was pouring champagne into flutes that were already organised on silver trays; twelve glasses to a tray. I picked up a tray of full glasses, the bowls of the glasses clinking on their narrow stems, the honey-coloured champagne fizzing and dancing. Walking as carefully as I could, putting each foot down flat, one in front of the other, I carried the tray to the living room door and I stood beside it and as each guest passed me I asked: ‘Would you like a glass of champagne, Madam? Sir?’

  They all smiled at me, said thank you and took a glass. It was wondrous to see them, the ladies especially. Oh, those dresses! Silk shimmering in the light, velvet stoles with fur collars, the brilliant, tiny beads sewn into the bodices. The older ladies had darker, more complicated dresses with embroidery and lace and sequins, but it was the younger ones – their shoulders bare, skin creamy white, jewels at their throats and ears – it was the younger ladies who held my eye. They wore light colours, bright colours, dresses that clung to their hips and chests, and their hair was all beautifully fashioned and pinned with flowers and beads and jewels too. The men were smart, I’m not saying they weren’t, with their moustaches oiled and their hair all shiny and dark, their shoes polished, their trousers creased. The men, scented with cigar smoke and cold air, were one thing, but those beautiful, perfumed young ladies, gathering in the living room with their glasses of champagne and chattering like a flock of exotic birds, those ladies were something else altogether. I wondered what the mammy would make of it all. I had a feeling she wouldn't be that impressed. My mammy wasn’t impressed by finery and jewels but I couldn’t help but be wide-eyed with wonder at it all.

  My tray was empty in no time and I returned to the sideboard to fetch another.

  ‘Thirsty work, socialising,’ said the wine waiter. He winked at me. I picked up the tray; I could hardly wait to get back to my position.

  As I walked carefully across the room, head down, balancing the tray, I was suddenly knocked off my feet. I went one way and the precious tray of beautiful crystal glasses went the other, crashing and smashing, spurting golden liquid across the beautiful polished floor. I heard gasps from the guests as I hit the floor.

  ‘You want to watch where you’re going,’ said a familiar voice.

  I looked up into the mean eyes of Miss Caroline Bretton sneering down at me. She’d done it on purpose, I knew she had, and I felt like tearing at her beautiful hair and scratching at her face. I wanted a real fight, a rolling-around-the-floor sort of a fight, but I couldn’t, could I? Because she was gentry and I was nobody – and I’d lose my job.

  She swept away, her dress almost touching my face as she went. I started to pick up the pieces of glass. I’d probably have to pay for the damage, so I was relieved to find that not all of the glasses had broken.

  People were having to step around me, I felt such a fool. Tears of anger burned behind my eyes. Everything had been so lovely and now it was all spoilt because of that horrible girl. I hated her, I did. I hated her! Father Kelly said we should love our fellow man; well, Miss Caroline Baggy Knickers wasn’t a man, she was a devil so it didn’t count, did it?

  And then Master Peter was kneeling beside me.

  ‘Don’t worry, Cissy,’ he said gently. ‘You won’t be in any trouble. I saw what happened and I shall tell my parents.’

  ‘I don’t want to make a fuss.’

  ‘You’re bleeding.’

  I looked down at the blood dripping onto the floor, mingling with the champagne.

  Master Peter took a hankie out of his pocket and wrapped it gently around my hand. ‘Now go downstairs and get it seen to, I’ll get a boy to clean this up.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘Don’t worry about anything, it’s only a few glasses.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, standing up. ‘I’ll wash your hankie and return it to you.’

  ‘Keep it,’ he said, grinning at me.

  Oh, he’s kind, I thought as I ran downstairs. He might be an Honourable but he didn’t look down on me. He made me feel as if we were the same, like he was talking to a friend. I’d like to be Master Peter’s friend, I really would.

  ‘That young madam needs to be taught a lesson,’ said Bridie, as she held my hand under the running water.

  ‘Master Peter gave me his hankie,’ I said.

  Bridie looked at me. ‘Be careful, Cissy,’ she said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I think you know why. He’s a lovely boy but no good will come of it. I’ve seen it before and it always ends bad. I don’t want you getting hurt, girl.’

  ‘I won’t, I just thought it would be nice to be his friend.’

  ‘Folks like him can never be friends with folks like us.’

  ‘But we’re all equal in God’s eyes, Bridie.’

  ‘It’s not God’s eyes you need to worry about, Cissy, it’s the Brettons’ and Caroline in particular misses nothing.’

  Once the festivities were over and the guests had retired to the lounge it was time for our own little party in the kitchen. Me and Annie were in the bedroom, getting ready.

  ‘I wish I had something pretty to wear,’ said Annie, scowling at her reflection in the mirror. ‘I wish I had a pretty dress like yours; you look lovely, Cissy.’

  I smoothed down the skirt of the blue dress that Mammy had given me. I almost felt beautiful in it but it made me feel bad that Annie didn’t have a lovely dress as well. I opened the drawer and took out the velvet ribbon. I was just about to tie it in my hair when I looked at poor Annie standing there in her grey dress.

  ‘Kneel down in front of me, Annie,’ I said. She did as she was told and I wound the ribbon into her curly hair and tied it with a bow, leaving two strands floating down the back of her head. ‘There now,’ I said.

  Annie spun around, grinning. ‘Oh, thank you, Cissy.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ I said, smiling at her. ‘Now let’s go and join the party.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The kitchen was full of people, maids and grooms and valets, all smiling and laughing, out to have a good time after working so hard all day. A young lad I’d never seen before was playing the accordion and one of Mr Bretton’s grooms was playing the tin whistle. The long wooden table had been pushed back against the wall to provide a space for the dancing. It was so wonderful. Annie hung back. ‘Come on, Annie,’ I said, catching hold of her hand. ‘There’s nothing to fear here.’

  Annie looked doubtful. ‘I don’t know half these people, Cissy,’ she whispered.

  ‘And they don’t know you so we’re all in the same boat, aren’t we? Anyway, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.’

  Annie didn’t look convinced but she followed me into the room. There were jugs of orange juice on the side for the women and beer for the men. I poured some juice for me and Annie and found two chairs for us to sit on.

  ‘Better?’ I said.

  Annie nodded her head. ‘As long as you don’t leave me.’

  ‘Now why would I be doing that?’

  ‘Some young man might whisk you away from me.’

  I thought of Colm with his dark hair and warm eyes. ‘I’m not for being whisked anywhere, Annie.’

  Some of the girls had started to dance in the middle of the floor, lifting their skirts, showing their petticoats and boots.

  ‘These village girls are very brazen,’ said Annie.

  ‘Sure, they’re only having a good time. It’s harmless enough and anyway, it’s Christmas.’

  ‘Well, they look no better than they should, Cissy, and just because it’s Christmas, that’s no excuse to be showing off your undergarments to the whole world.’

  A few brave boys joined the girls. I wished I c
ould dance, I’d maybe have a go myself.

  ‘Can you dance, Annie?’

  ‘I can, as it happens,’ she said, smiling. ‘When I was young, my mammy and daddy taught us all to dance. Sure, we used to have a grand time in our little cottage. I wish I was back there now,’ she said softly.

  I reached across and held her hand, ‘But you will always have your memories, Annie, no one can take those away from you.’

  Annie brightened. ‘You’re right, I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.’

  ‘I think Christmas takes a lot of people like that, it makes you think of happier times, but maybe we should just enjoy what we have now and be grateful for it.’

  ‘Um, excuse me?’ said a voice.

  There was a boy standing in front of us, smiling down at Annie.

  ‘Would you like to dance?’ he asked, shyly.

  ‘Go on, Annie,’ I encouraged.

  She looked petrified, so I gave a her a little nudge. ‘Yes, she would,’ I said to the boy.

  Annie glared at me but she stood up and walked onto the floor with him.

  I watched as the boy spun her around, her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed. She looked across at me and grinned. She was having a lovely time and it made me so happy.

  It was getting hot, so I fetched my shawl and made my way outside for some fresh air. I didn’t wander far beyond the back door as it was pitch-black but it was nice to lean against the wall with the light from the windows and the sound of the music and laughter close by.

  Just then the door opened. ‘Not dancing?’

  I did a little bob. ‘I came out for some air,’ I replied.

  Master Peter smiled. ‘There’s no need for that, Cissy.’

  I didn’t answer; I didn’t know what to say.

  ‘It looks like they’re having a great time in there.’

  ‘I think they are,’ I said.

  He guided me away from the door. ‘I have something for you,’ he said, handing me a small parcel.

  I couldn’t believe that Master Peter was giving me a present. I undid the wrapping. Inside was a book but it was so dark, I couldn’t see the title.

  ‘The Collected Poems of our friend, Mr Yeats,’ he said.

  ‘I can’t take it,’ I said, trying to give it back.

  He pressed it into my hands. ‘Happy Christmas, Cissy,’ he said, gently kissing my cheek.

  ‘Happy Christmas, Master Peter.’

  ‘Please, just Peter. At least when we’re on our own,’ he added quickly.

  He was standing so close to me, we were almost touching. I’d felt chilly when I’d stepped out of the kitchen but now I felt as warm as if it was a summer’s day.

  ‘Well, I’ll let you get back to your party,’ he said, and walked away.

  I touched my cheek where he had kissed me and I hugged the little book to my heart.

  I was glad it was dark. I was glad that I was on my own for surely anyone could see my face that I knew was flushed and my eyes that I knew sparkled. I leaned against the wall. ‘Happy Christmas, Peter,’ I whispered.

  That night in bed, I hugged my pillow and pretended that it was Peter. I thought of the little book he had given me and how he had kissed my cheek. He must like me, he must. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep with his handsome face filling my dreams.

  Things seemed rather dull at the Hall once the festivities were over, except for one thing. Master Peter didn’t have to go back to school for another week but I supposed that meant neither would Miss Caroline.

  ‘Isn’t Miss Caroline getting a bit old for school, Bridie?’ I asked, as we were putting clean linen on the beds.

  ‘Oh, she’s not going back to school, Cissy.’

  My heart dropped. ‘She’s not staying at home, is she?’

  ‘She’s going to a fancy place in Switzerland to be finished off.’

  ‘What do you mean, finished off?’

  ‘She has to be taught all the social graces before she gets presented into society.’

  ‘What will they teach her?’

  ‘She’ll be taught how to walk and stuff like that.’

  I giggled. ‘She already knows how to walk, doesn’t she?’

  ‘I know, it’s daft, isn’t it? They’d be better off sending her somewhere that would teach her how to be kind.’

  ‘I don’t think she’ll ever be kind, Bridie.’

  ‘Neither do I, but once she gets presented at court she’ll hopefully find herself a feller who’s foolish enough to take her on, then she can go and live with him and stop plaguing us with her spiteful ways.’

  ‘Well, that can’t come soon enough for me; she’s never forgotten what I called her.’

  ‘And I don’t think she ever will, Cissy.’

  ‘What about Peter? I mean, Master Peter,’ I said quickly. ‘Will he have to be finished off too?’

  ‘No, but you can be sure that once his studies are over, he’ll be attending all the balls so that he can be introduced to the right sort of girl that will be acceptable to the Brettons as his future wife.’

  I busied myself tucking in the corners of the sheet but inside I felt sick. I realised I was falling in love with a boy who could never be mine.

  Bridie noticed my silence. ‘You must know that’s the way it works.’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course I do.’

  ‘But you don’t really believe it?’

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  ‘I know you like him, Cissy, but he could never walk out with you and if he did, the Brettons would cut him off without a penny to his name. He has to marry into a family like his own, a family with status and money.’

  I could feel my eyes filling with tears because I knew that what Bridie was saying was true. I was being a foolish girl to think that a book of poetry and a kiss on the cheek meant anything to him.

  ‘Stick to your own kind, girl, or there’ll be trouble ahead, mark my words. I always thought that maybe you and Colm…?’

  ‘So did I, Bridie.’

  After we’d finished the beds, there was an hour before lunch had to be served.

  ‘Is it okay if I go for a walk?’

  Bridie smiled at me. ‘I always think of you as a sensible girl, Cissy. You go for a walk and put the boy out of your mind.’

  I knew that she was right and I knew that she was only trying to protect me. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ I said.

  It was warmer today as I made my way down the path to the beach. It was still slippery underfoot but the snow had melted. I thought about everything that Bridie had said and I knew I must stop these foolish thoughts and accept what she was saying. I’d been hoping that Peter and me could spend some time together before he left, but now I couldn’t wait for him to go.

  I heard footsteps behind me. ‘Wait up,’ called a voice.

  I turned around to see Peter running down the path.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind me joining you,’ he said, grinning. ‘I saw you from the drawing room window and I could do with a walk myself.’

  I didn’t answer him.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, falling in step beside me.

  ‘Nothing,’ I mumbled.

  He caught hold of my arm and stopped me walking.

  ‘Yes, there is. Have I done something, Cissy?’

  ‘What would your parents say if they saw us going for a walk together?’

  ‘But they won’t.’

  ‘But if they did? What would they say?’

  Peter seemed to be having trouble looking at me.

  ‘I know what they’d say and I know they wouldn’t approve and so do you.’

  ‘We’ll just have to make sure they don’t see us then, won’t we?’

  ‘I can’t take that chance, Peter. They might tell you off but they’d probably throw me out. Have you thought of that? No, you haven’t, have you?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Cissy, but I like you. I like your company, I enjoy being with you.’

  ‘I enjoy being w
ith you too, Peter,’ I said sadly.

  ‘Look, we’re only young, why can’t we just be friends? No one need know, we’ll be careful. Please, Cissy. I’d never hurt you, you must know that, don’t you?’

  ‘You might not mean to hurt me, Peter, but I fear that you will.’

  ‘I’ve never met anyone like you before,’ said Peter, taking my face in his hands. ‘I’ve been so happy since you came to work for us. Why can’t we be friends? It will be our secret, no one need know. Please, Cissy, please.’

  I looked into his eyes and I was lost. ‘Just friends then, Peter, just friends,’ I said. But I knew in my heart that what I felt for Peter was much more than friendship and it scared me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  And so we became friends and I lived for the times when Peter was home. We became clever at finding secret places where we could be together, away from the prying eyes of Bretton Hall, away from Bridie and Annie and Mrs Hickey. If there were moments when my head told me that this was wrong and that no good could come of it, I brushed those thoughts away; we weren’t hurting anyone. If we held hands as we walked beside each other or Peter put his arm around my shoulder, I told myself that this was what good friends did. It was only at night when I closed my eyes that I could admit to myself that friendship was not what I felt when I thought about him. I loved him. I did; I loved him, and I knew what I was doing and I knew it couldn’t last, but if friendship was all he could offer then I’d take it and be grateful for it.

  If Peter was at home on my days off I told the mammy that I was needed at the Hall. I’m not sure that she believed me. I knew that Colm didn’t, but I wanted to spend as much time with Peter as I could.

  ‘Are you going to tell me about it?’ he said one day, as we were sitting on the rocks under the lighthouse.

  ‘Tell you about what?’ I said.

  ‘I’ve known you long enough to see that something has changed.’

  I stood up and walked towards the water’s edge. The sea was calm and still on this lovely spring day. I could feel Colm beside me even before he spoke.