A Long Way from Heaven

by A Long Way from Heaven (retail) (epub)

  Erin gave a final flourish of her feather duster then returned to the kitchen.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ said Rose, picking up a piece of paper and handing it to Erin along with a basket. ‘You know where Goodramgate is, don’t you?’ Erin nodded. ‘Well, halfway along you’ll find a grocer’s shop, you can’t miss it. You’ll get everything on that list from there. Then,’ she gave the girl another list, ‘drop this in at the butcher’s, that’s two doors along from the grocer’s. You won’t have to wait for that, he delivers.’

  Erin wrapped her shawl tightly around her and picked up the large basket.

  ‘Poor little soul,’ said Rose to Alice, who came in carrying a tray of silver. ‘I’ll have to have a word with the master about giving her one of Miss Caroline’s old coats. It’s a crying shame to see a pretty little thing dressed like that. And you, madam, can stop throwing your weight about so much!’ She pounded away at her dough. ‘Just because you’ve been promoted doesn’t mean to say you can make her life a misery. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you pushing her around.’

  ‘Me?’ said Alice incredulously. ‘What have I done?’

  ‘Nothing,’ replied the cook. ‘That’s just my point. I know she’s the scullery maid and by rights she gets all the dirty jobs to do, but it’s only her first day, you oughtn’t to push her around so. If she gets sick of it and leaves then you’ll have it all to do again.’

  ‘I like that!’ cried Alice indignantly. ‘You’ve been shoving her around as much as I have.’

  ‘I’m entitled,’ replied Rose airily. ‘You’re not. Now get on with whatever you’re supposed to be doing.’ She plaited the bread and put it into the oven.

  A bell jingled from a rail on the wall, craving attention in the drawing room.

  ‘Oh, damn that blasted thing,’ sighed Alice flinging down her cleaning rag. ‘I wonder what Lady Arsey wants now?’ Erin shivered and felt the goose-pimples begin to form. She walked briskly to increase her sluggish circulation. In spite of the cold it was nice to escape from that hostile atmosphere for a while. Crossing the road she tramped up Goodramgate until she found the grocery. After carefully purchasing every item on the list Erin left in search of the butcher’s shop.

  Pausing outside, she stared at the bloody carcases that hung at its open frontage, at the smiling, lifeless faces of the pigs suspended by their hind legs, their narrow eyes screwed shut. Never would she be able to enter a butcher’s shop without her mind conjuring up terrible memories. Her fingers trembled unconsciously as she felt once again the walls still tacky with blood, heard the ghoulish rattling of chains. She stared, horrified, at the ghastly array on the let-down shelf, the piles of slippery liver, sinewy chitterlings, and sheep’s heads grinning back at her in a terrifying rictus, beasts’ hearts pulsating before her very eyes.

  ‘Well, are yer comin’ in or aren’t yer?’

  Startled, she spun round to find a tall, grinning boy at her shoulder, his blond hair spiking from under his butcher’s cap. Fresh-complexioned he was, with white even teeth and a cheeky smile, pleasant blue eyes that glittered with youthful merriment at the sight of this pretty girl. He was the sort of boy for whom many a maid would have mooned into her pillow.

  But Erin could see none of these things. Her eyes saw only the blood on his clothes, the tiny pieces of flesh under his fingernails and the slavering, pimply face of Jos Leach.

  The boy leapt back in alarm as Erin gave a piercing scream and ran wildly down the street. She did not know where she was going but simply ran, black hair streaming, boots ringing and skidding on the frosty pavement, the shawl slipping from her terrified shoulders as her arms worked furiously to aid her escape.

  ‘I thought I told you to keep your hands to yourself, Samuel Teale?’ The butcher emerged from his shop to see what all the commotion was about.

  Sam blushed, still taken aback by his reception. People were staring at him, pointing accusingly. ‘I didn’t touch her, Mr Simons, honest,’ he protested. ‘She must be a loony. All I said was “Are yer coming in?” and she gave a big scream. Scared the livin’ daylights outta me, she did.’

  ‘Are you sure you didn’t touch her, you randy little devil?’ His employer lowered his eyebrows.

  ‘Cut me throat an’ hope to die,’ swore Sam, quite upset about the whole business.

  ‘All right, son, you’d better go and deliver those orders then.’ Sam followed the butcher back into the shop, still trying to work out what the girl had found so frightening about him, and was unable to chase her pretty, terrified face from his thoughts for the rest of the day.

  Chapter Forty-five

  Erin kept on running until the big house was in sight, then almost fell down the steps to the basement. Safely round the back of the house she leaned against the wall and shut her eyes, gasping and puffing with the exertion of her flight. When she had collected her senses she picked up the basket of groceries and opened the kitchen door.

  ‘Did you get everything?’ asked Rose, who was preparing a menu for the evening meal.

  ‘Yes, Cook,’ replied Erin, putting the basket on the table for Rose’s inspection.

  ‘And did you leave the list at the butcher’s?’

  The question hit her like a wet fish in the face. The list! In her panic she had forgotten all about it. She touched a tremulous hand to her face.

  ‘Oh, don’t tell me you forgot?’ Rose slammed down the pencil on the table, breaking the lead. ‘We’ll have no meat for supper, the mistress’ll go mad. Oh, you are useless, girl.’ Erin hung her head and crossed her fingers behind her back, praying that the cook would not send her back to the shop.

  ‘Well, you haven’t got time to go back now,’ said Rose crossly, much to Erin’s relief. ‘I want some help in the kitchen and you obviously aren’t to be trusted to run errands. Alice!’ she bellowed to the maid who had just appeared on the staircase. ‘Alice, Erin’s forgotten to go to the butcher’s, be a love and go, will you? We’ve got to have a joint for tonight.’ For once Alice made no complaint. On the contrary, she was only too happy to comply. She enjoyed her trips to the butcher’s, revelled in the saucy company there, and she could have a good old stroll around the shops while she was at it.

  ‘Right, Erin,’ snapped Rose. ‘You put those groceries away sharp, and get that cap back on. The mistress usually comes down to inspect the kitchen about this time.’

  Feverishly Erin tucked her hair under her cap and straightened her apron, and none too soon, for Helena’s tiny feet tripped lightly down the stairs under a rustle of silk.

  ‘Good morning, Cook.’ She swayed about the room like a handsome, deadly cobra, sharp eyes darting about the kitchen, waiting to strike.

  ‘Good morning, madam,’ replied Rose. ‘Would you care to study the menu?’

  ‘No, I will leave it to your discretion, Cook,’ replied Helena silkily. ‘I am sure that whatever you prepare will be quite adequate.’

  Adequate indeed, sniffed Rose, that’s about her limit. Never a word of praise for all the hard work you put in. You could slave all day, preparing a banquet fit for a king and what would you get? ‘Oh, that is quite adequate, Cook.’ Bitch.

  Helena was trailing a manicured digit along the range. ‘This really is quite disgraceful, Cook!’ She held up her finger distastefully and wiped away the grease on a cloth which Rose swiftly handed to her. ‘Who was responsible for cleaning it this morning?’

  Rose hesitated then looked pointedly at Erin, who had been trying to make herself look small.

  ‘I might have known!’ expostulated Helena. ‘It seems that my little rebuke this morning was not severe enough.’ She gestured for Erin to come closer, which the girl did fearfully. ‘Now, listen very carefully. I understand that the house in which you live is probably crawling with all manner of vermin, but I expect my house to be kept spotlessly clean at all times.’ She tried to remember Erin’s name but it escaped her and she had to ask once more.

  ‘Feeney, ma’am,’ whispered
Erin, expecting another blow at any minute.

  ‘Oh, yes, the Irish girl,’ nodded Helena. ‘I might have expected it. The Irish have such filthy habits. I really cannot think what possessed the master to employ one. Or can I? I wonder, does your mother have red hair by any chance?’

  Erin nodded, alert for any movement from Helena’s hands.

  The woman turned her back on Erin and marched slowly along the length of the kitchen, her face darkening. So, her assumption had been correct. Well, her dear husband would live to regret his rash decision to bring his bastard to work in this house. And so would the child.

  She turned and sauntered back to stand before Erin once more. ‘Yes,’ she said thoughtfully, staring right through Erin as she spoke. ‘I thought that might be your mother, a true slut if ever I saw one.’ Her voice lost its abstractedness and she added sharply, ‘Let me inform you, Feeney, that any “understanding” your mother may have reached with the master is irrelevant to me. What is, is that you are here to work and work you will. By that I do not mean to your mother’s standards but to mine. I hope I will not have to clarify the matter again?’ She did not wait for an answer. ‘Very well. You will now clean the range again and when you have finished I shall wish to inspect it. If it is still not to my satisfaction you will earn yourself a beating.’ Laying her palms against her whispering skirts she glided up the staircase and was gone.

  ‘Well!’ Rose was astounded. ‘She’s certainly taken a dislike to you, hasn’t she? I wonder why?’ Her inquisitive mind ticked over. From what the mistress had said, or rather not said, Erin could be one of the master’s illegitimates; Lord knew there would probably be a few about. But then he would hardly set her to work in his own kitchens if that was the case. You’d think he would take a bit more care of her than that.

  ‘Is your mam a friend of the master’s then?’ she asked casually.

  ‘What?’ Erin was still hearing Helena’s words and was most upset by them. Fancy saying those awful things about her mam. She felt the tears sting her eyes and turned her face away from Cook before they brimmed over.

  Rose repeated her question.

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ replied Erin, though rather uncertainly, wondering now if Helena’s words were entirely without foundation. Thomasin had been very vague about her relationship with Mr Cummings. Whatever the case she was not going to add fuel to the flame that Helena had obviously sparked in Rose’s inquisitive mind. She knew what a gossip Rose was.

  ‘What shall I do after I’ve put the groceries away?’ she asked, diverting the conversation.

  Rose saw that she was not going to get anything out of Erin so decided to let it rest for now. But she was too curious to forget about it completely and would bring it out for an airing at a later date.

  ‘You can peel some potatoes for our dinner,’ she answered. ‘I’ve got some nice steak and kidney in the oven, should be ready soon. You’ll like that, everybody likes my steak and kidney pie.’

  Erin set about peeling the potatoes, but just as she applied the knife to the first one Johnson descended the stairs looking decidedly out of humour.

  ‘Girl, get a pail of water and go clean the front step instantly!’

  ‘But…’

  ‘I have no time for any of your back chat!’ snapped the manservant. ‘I said instantly. A dog has fouled the front step and the mistress wishes to go for her morning ride. She cannot do so until the step has been cleaned. Go now.’

  Erin filled a bucket, threw in a scrubbing brush and, holding a shovel in her free hand, went out of the back door to clean the offending mess. Johnson, having made a suitable change of clothing, rushed after her to where the carriage stood outside the front door and tipped the boy who had been holding the reins.

  ‘Hurry, girl, the mistress will be down at any moment!’

  Erin offered up a silent prayer for the cold weather which had made the dog excreta quite easy to remove and sloshed her scrubbing brush onto the step to scrub away the evidence. The noise of her scrubbing covered the sound of the front door opening and she was unaware of Helena’s arrival until two dainty feet appeared under her nose.

  She was about to apologise for her presence, was just going to return her brush to the bucket when, without so much as an excuse me, Helena raised one of her prettily-shod feet and trod heavily on Erin’s fingers, purposely screwing her foot round to increase the pain.

  Erin stood clutching her bleeding fingers, the tears streaming down her cold face as Helena climbed into the carriage and it pulled away. Why? she asked herself over and over again. Why?

  * * *

  At lunchtime Caroline came down to the kitchen to take her meal. Miss Elwood, as usual, took hers on a tray in her room.

  ‘Sit down, Miss Caroline.’ Rose placed a steaming plate of meat pie and vegetables in front of her. ‘And try to cheer that girl up, will you?’ She pointed at Erin. ‘She looks like a bit o’ wet lettuce.’

  Caroline smiled at her neighbour. ‘Are you not happy in your new post?’

  Erin made a face behind Rose’s back and the other girl’s smile widened.

  ‘I expect you are finding it pretty hard?’ Caroline, who had never lifted a finger in her life, had no inkling of just how hard.

  She looked at Erin’s hand which Cook had kindly bandaged after Erin had returned weeping. ‘Have you had an accident?’

  ‘’Twas no accident,’said Erin sullenly. ‘The mistress stood on my hand.’

  Caroline lost her smile. ‘I think you must be mistaken, Erin. Mama would never do a thing like that except by accident.’

  Erin gave an embittered chuckle. ‘’Twas no accident I tell ye. She hates the sight o’ me. I got a clout this morning just for nothing.’

  ‘Really, Erin.’ Caroline was no longer the sweet-natured girl of yesterday. ‘I do think you are rather over-dramatising the situation. If you truly knew Mama you would realise that she is far too beautiful a person ever to contemplate such an act as you are suggesting. I think you are being most unjust in your accusations when she is not here to answer them.’

  Erin was just going to argue with Caroline when she caught Alice’s wary glance. The meal progressed in silence, apart from the scraping of knives and forks upon plates. Erin wondered at Caroline’s inability to see the mistress for what she was. Erin noticed that none of the other servants spoke about Helena in front of her daughter, at least not in the derogatory manner in which they did when Caroline was not present. It was quite obvious why. Caroline would hear no wrong said about her mother and was apt to become extremely distressed at the least little criticism.

  Erin decided that in future it was better to remain silent about Helena’s persecution rather than alienate the only friend she had there.

  Though Caroline’s over-sensitivity was quick to rise in defence of her mother, she was not one to sulk and before the meal was over she was chatting amiably once again to her neighbour.

  ‘I am most sorry that you have had such a dreary morning,’ she told Erin. ‘But no matter, I have some news which should cheer you. You remember how you told me that you wished you could go to school? Well,’ here she pressed her lips together secretively, before blurting out: ‘I have asked Miss Elwood about the possibility of you joining my lessons and she has agreed to ask Papa if it can be arranged. What do you think of that?’

  Erin could hardly believe her ears. She looked agog at Rose who said, ‘That’s all well and good, Miss Caroline, but who’s going to do her work down here?’

  ‘This bloody mug,’ provided Alice bitterly.

  ‘Alice! Mind your language in front of Miss Caroline,’ shouted Cook.

  ‘I am sure it will not interfere with her work,’ said Caroline. ‘It will only be for one hour after lunch. Surely one hour will not make any difference? Oh, please, Cookie, do say yes.’

  ‘Well, it isn’t up to me, is it?’ replied Cook. ‘If the master says yes, well, we’ll all have to grin and bear it.’ She looked at Erin’s pleadin
g face and softened. ‘Oh, I suppose it’ll be all right! Just for one hour and provided you make up for lost time.’

  Caroline squealed in delight and threw her arms around Erin, who blushed at this impulsive behaviour. ‘Marvellous! I shall inform Papa that you do not mind, Cookie.’

  ‘Don’t you go letting him think it’s my idea,’ cautioned Cook.

  ‘I must say, it all sounds very irregular to me.’

  All faces turned to Johnson.

  ‘What harm will it do?’ argued Alice, who had changed her tune on realising that Erin’s absence would not affect her. ‘Long as she catches up with her work and don’t expect anybody else to do it.’

  ‘Servants should know their place,’ Johnson insisted quietly, ‘and should not be getting ideas above their station.’

  ‘Oh, and I suppose that means me!’ Alice flung down her knife and fork with a clatter.

  ‘If the cap fits… replied Johnson tauntingly. His softly superior manner had a habit of being more infuriating than his words.

  ‘Just ’cause you’re after getting yerself in my bed…’

  ‘Alice!’ commanded Rose. ‘That is quite enough.’

  ‘Well, he’s always on at me,’ sulked the maid, prodding viciously at the leftovers on her plate with a fork. ‘And it’s only ’cause he’s jealous.’

  Johnson did not rise to this charge, simply smiled his dark, secretive smile, giving nothing away.

  After lunch Caroline returned to the schoolroom, taking Erin with her.

  ‘Ah, Caroline,’ said Miss Elwood. ‘I have approached your papa who was most affable to my proposals.’

  Erin expelled the breath she had been holding and grinned happily at the other girl. This would make up for all the indignities and insults. At last she was going to school. She was shown to a desk and provided with a stack of exercise books, and for the next hour neither thought of nor heard anything other than the governess’ voice.

  But the time sped all too quickly and pretty soon she found herself once more faced with a pile of dirty crockery and the promise of a hard afternoon to come.