Woman from Dover

by Annand, Betty

  The poor woman’s hair was inundated with nits. Gladys didn’t know what to do. She was afraid she might lose her job if she said anything, but if she didn’t, the lice were liable to spread throughout the manor. She also felt so sorry for the poor old lady that she decided she had no choice but to do what she could for her.

  She waited until the girls had delivered the hot water and tea and had departed before asking Jean, “Mum, do you have a lady’s maid at home?”

  Jean snapped back, “I do not know what concern that is of yours, but no, I do not require anyone to tend to my needs. I manage with very little staff, and I am proud of it. James shall never say that I squandered his inheritance on unnecessary frivolities. Although by the look of this home, he must employ a good many servants.”

  “He is fortunate to have a very capable staff, mum. They are all good workers.”

  “I can see that, but it must cost a pretty penny. Now, young lady, why did you want to know if I have a lady’s maid? You are not looking for another position, are you?”

  “Oh no, mum, I am quite content with my job here. It is just that, and please forgive me for what I am about to say, mum, but I could not help but notice that you suffer with head lice.”

  Jean gasped, then saying each word slowly and with added emphasis, she replied, “What did you say?”

  “I am really sorry, mum, but I thought I might be of assistance.”

  “I have never heard such utter nonsense. How dare you! Get out of my room. Go!”

  For a second Gladys felt like telling the woman that she was welcome to keep her nits and any other bugs she brought with her, but she knew the reason Jean was so upset was because of her pride. “Please, mum, just listen to me for one moment. Please.”

  When Jean didn’t answer, Gladys took it as a good sign and continued, “You see, I have a very good friend, Lady Sorenson, whose estate is just outside of Dover, and she had the same problem. She thought they must have come from one of the wigs her hairdresser looked after. Lady Sorenson has a husband and three young children, and she was afraid they might get them too.”

  Impressed by the title “Lady,” Jean swallowed her pride and asked, “What did the lady do?”

  “Fortunately, there were some Romani camped nearby, and she had heard that they sold remedies for almost every ailment a person could have. Being a little too embarrassed to go to her doctor, she sent one of her maids to find out if they had something she could use. Luckily, they did, so she bought enough of the remedy for the whole family and even gave me some in case my daughter, Dolly, who often played with her children, got them. Dolly didn’t, so I still have the remedy and would be more than happy to treat your hair with it. No one else need ever know. We shall say you are too tired to leave your room tonight except for a good wash in the bathtub off the downstairs kitchen, and then tomorrow you can say you never had time to wash your hair before you left home and wanted me to do it.”

  “How do I know you are telling the truth? Perhaps I do not have them at all.”

  “Has your head been very itchy lately?”

  Jean knew Gladys was telling the truth. The constant itchiness had been driving her mad. “Very well, but if this remedy you have does any damage to my hair or scalp, I shall see to it that you are severely punished, as well as discharged.”

  After a week, Gladys assured Jean she was completely rid of the vermin, but instead of being grateful, Jean, who had never been so humiliated in her life, chose to forget it ever happened.

  She had had a maid to look after her personal needs most of her life, but when that woman retired due to ill health, Jean had decided she could look after her own needs. Besides, age had begun to cause Jean a few bodily malfunctions, and she had no intention of allowing a stranger to witness her defects. She knew she owed Gladys a word of gratitude, but she couldn’t bring herself to say thank you.

  Gladys, aware of how embarrassed Jean felt every time they were in the same room, didn’t resent her cool manner and managed to avoid her whenever possible. At first, James had been worried when his aunt kept to her room, but now that she was taking her meals with him, he did his best to make her feel at home. He told her about all the wonderful changes Gladys had made to the house since she began working for him. Jean, not wanting to hear any more about the housekeeper’s virtues, tried to change the subject, but he kept on until she began to suspect that he was entirely too fond of the woman.

  One afternoon, Gladys came into the parlour where James and his aunt were sitting to ask if she might go to town with Jenkins in the morning, as she needed some thread.

  “Of course, Gladys,” he replied. Then addressing his aunt, he added, “Gladys has a marvellous machine that sews for her. You must see it in action. Could you give Auntie a demonstration, Gladys?”

  Before Gladys could reply, Jean offered a dismissive, “Another time, perhaps. I am sure she is far too busy.”

  “It will not take much time, Auntie, and I am sure Gladys can spare a moment for us,” James insisted.

  “Certainly, sir,” Gladys answered.

  Having no excuse, Jean had no choice but to follow Gladys to her suite. Gladys sat down at the sewing machine and sewed a hem on a pinafore she was making. Jean couldn’t help but be impressed and, surprisingly, she smiled and said, “That is simply marvellous! How clever you are to be able to run such a contraption.”

  “Anyone can do it. You just turn this handle and guide the cloth through like this. Would you like to try it?”

  Jean sat down and Gladys helped her until she was able to do it on her own. Her eyes were sparkling when she finished sewing the hem on a pretty little handkerchief. It was the first time she could remember doing something so practical, and the satisfying feeling it gave her was like a tonic.

  “It is not nearly as tidy a job as you would have done,” she said, smiling, “but perhaps if I were to practice a little longer, I could do better.”

  “I am sure you could. You know, mum, I had a dear aunt who was a seamstress, and I have often thought how wonderful it would have been if she had owned one of these machines. She made beautiful gowns and suits for some of the wealthiest women in Dover and did them all by hand. When she passed away, I inherited all the items she had in her shop. There was one dress amongst her things that she had made for someone, but since I had no idea for whom it was intended, I could not give it to the lady. I still have it and would like to show it to you—I think you will appreciate her work. It is far too small for me, but I think it would look lovely on you.”

  Before Jean could object, Gladys went into a trunk and brought out the dress. She had forgotten about the dress until she told Jean about Millie. It was made with a rich purple material and trimmed with black satin collar and cuffs.

  “Do you like it, mum?”

  “It is quite lovely! How much did your aunt charge for a nice frock like this?”

  “I really don’t know, but I think Auntie would be pleased if you were to have it—you have such a nice figure.”

  Jean hadn’t received a compliment for such a long time that she had forgotten how to respond, and blushing, she tried her best to appear unruffled when she answered.

  “I shall take it to my room and try it on, but I doubt if it will fit. However, if it does, I shall not accept it unless I pay for it.”

  Rather than argue, Gladys agreed, and Jean left.

  That evening Percy, Mary, and the Rudyards came to call and when James told his aunt that Gladys would join them in the parlour, Jean didn’t object. She wore Millie’s dress, and when James remarked how lovely she looked, she glanced over at Gladys, smiled, and said, “You may thank Gladys for that, James.”

  The evening went very well. Jean was impressed with Gladys’s piano playing and her singing, but it was Mary who captured her attention. Unused to late nights, Jean asked to be excused before the guests were ready to
leave, and Gladys offered to go with her to see she was settled for the night. Jean never complained when Gladys helped her undress and put on her nightgown. She didn’t even object when Gladys changed the cloth padding Jean wore pinned to her underpinnings. Then, as Gladys brushed and braided Jean’s hair, the elderly lady realized how much she missed her old maid.

  When she was settled in bed, Gladys said goodnight and turned to leave, but Jean asked her to stay and talk for a few minutes. “Gladys, I feel I should apologize for not thanking you for all you have done for me since I arrived.” It had been the most enjoyable evening Jean had spent in years, and she knew it was because of James’s housekeeper.

  “I am glad to have been of service, mum,” Gladys said and once again prepared to leave, but Jean reached out and took hold of her dress.

  “I think James’s friends are excellent company, and I was especially taken with that young widow, Mary. James has been a bachelor far too long, and I think she would make the perfect wife for him. She comes from a good family and I could tell that she is fond of him. What do you think?” Gladys had to agree, although for some reason she couldn’t understand, she knew it would never happen.

  “You must do all you can to see that the two of them are left alone now and again, Gladys,” Jean insisted, fully intent on seeing Mary as mistress of Four Oaks.

  By the time Gladys returned to the parlour, the guests had left.

  Jean left the following week. She either forgot to pay for Millie’s dress or she had never intended to. The caring attention she received from Gladys convinced her to hire another lady’s maid as soon as she arrived home. Jean came to visit quite often after that, and when she did, she always brought her maid with her.

  For quite some time, Jean did her best to talk James into marrying Mary, but when he became obviously annoyed with her prodding, she stopped bothering him.

  Chapter Nine

  Occasionally, Percy brought his best friend, Helmut Goldberg, to Four Oaks. Helmut was a London doctor who visited Percy once every two months, usually staying for a week. Percy had warned James and Gladys that Helmut was quite eccentric, despite being considered one of the most respected doctors in London. He also explained, with obvious pride, that Helmut was a close associate of Dr John Snow.

  James was impressed, but it was clear by the blank look on Gladys’s face that she had no idea who John Snow was, so Percy explained.

  “Dr Snow is a very well-known British physician. He was one of the first to study and calculate dosages for the use of ether and chloroform as a surgical anaesthesia. In fact, Gladys, he administered chloroform to the Queen when she gave birth to her eighth child earlier this year.”

  What he didn’t mention was that Helmut was suffering with a debilitating and incurable illness. His bimonthly visits with Percy in the clean salt air of Sandwich were all that was keeping him alive, as he worked mostly in London’s slum districts.

  When Gladys and James met the doctor, they could see that Percy hadn’t exaggerated when he warned them of his eccentricities.

  He was unkempt in his person and attire and had a sickly, sallow complexion. He spoke, or mumbled, with a German-Jewish accent that was, at times, incomprehensible.

  In spite of Helmut’s peculiarities, one couldn’t help but feel honoured to be in his presence. Perhaps it had something to do with his shabbiness, a look often associated with genius, or it may have been because his eyes portrayed a great deal of intelligence and perception. Whatever it was, one felt compelled to treat him with respect.

  It was difficult to understand how Helmut and Percy had become such good friends since Percy, like James, was meticulous in every respect. Helmut, on the other hand, dropped his coat, hat, and everything else he might shed on the handiest piece of furniture, and a morsel of his latest meal could usually be found on his vest, pants, or jacket. He seldom took note of the weather and would go out in a rainstorm without a hat or overcoat, or wear heavy-knit sweaters in the middle of summer.

  Extremely absentminded, he had a habit of drifting off into a world of his own, which could be very annoying during a card game or in the middle of a lively debate.

  However, each day he spent with Percy during his weekly visits resulted in a noticeable improvement in his appearance, and by the time he was ready to return to London, his hair would be neatly trimmed and his clothes cleaned and pressed. It was clear that Percy was extremely fond of the doctor and took it upon himself to tidy the poor man before allowing him to leave. If Helmut didn’t come to Sandwich for his usual visit, Percy went to visit him. Sometimes James would join them in London for a night at the theatre.

  James had as much enjoyment telling Gladys about the performances that he saw as he did attending them, and she loved listening to every little detail. He had also begun to relax more in the company of Percy and his friends when they came to Four Oaks. Gladys was flattered that both he and Percy insisted that she be included in most of their activities.

  Percy, Bob, Tina, and Mary were so impressed with James and Gladys’s velocipedes that they asked James to visit Willard’s factory when he next went to Dover on business and order them each one. Willard’s machines were a favourite with so many who had visited the exhibition that he was swamped with orders from all over the world, thus it took a few months before the ones James ordered were delivered.

  Once they came, they were soon put to good use. Unfortunately, Helmut was only able to ride a short distance before tiring, so they only went riding when he was in London.

  Once in a while, if they weren’t going too far, Dolly was invited along, and when the seven of them all rode down the road behind one another, it made quite a spectacle. People came out of their houses and stores to call out and wave as they went by. Most had never seen or heard of such a machine. Each time they went for a ride, it caused as much excitement as a parade.

  Because it was necessary to plan their activities around the work schedules of Percy and Gladys, they didn’t have as much time together as they would have liked. When they did get together, they could always find something interesting to do such as riding their velocipedes, horseback riding, picnicking, playing croquet, cards, charades, board games, or singing songs.

  Gladys enjoyed herself, except when Tina and Mary chatted away about the tea parties and shopping trips they had taken, unintentionally ignoring Gladys. Feelings of resentment and envy often overtook her, even though she realized she should be grateful that they considered her a friend instead of a servant. Being a housekeeper most of the time, and only a socialite whenever James decided to include her, made Gladys feel like one of James’s possessions that he could use for whatever purpose he desired.

  If it wasn’t for the incident with old Gaylord, Gladys would have stood up to her father-in-law’s adopted son, Peter, and taken her case to court. She had no doubt she would have won with such a clever man to plead her case as Andrew’s friend and lawyer, Randolph Mansfield, but since she did not know how much Peter’s detective had found out about her past, she was afraid to take the chance.

  When she first arrived at Four Oaks, she was destitute and felt grateful to be given a job as well as a pleasant place for her and Dolly to live, but now that she was once more keeping company with aristocrats, the thought of what she had lost often plagued her.

  She was also a little jealous of Mary, feeling certain that both James and Percy were enamoured with her. Not that she blamed them. Aunt Jean was right; the woman was not only beautiful but wealthy as well. She would be an asset to any man.

  Gladys had many good traits to her character, but humbleness wasn’t one of them, and it irked her that Mary and Tina were free to voice an opinion without having to worry about the consequences. Many times, she was tempted to use her father’s words and say, “Yes, sir, no, sir, kiss me arse, sir!” Oddly enough, this thought usually cheered her up, perhaps because it brought back memories of Old Nichol
and reminded her that things could be a lot worse.

  Percy didn’t have to tell James and Gladys that Helmut’s health was failing; they could see his decline for themselves. During the next six months, he became gradually weaker until he became too sick to work or travel alone.

  Percy knew the doctor hadn’t long to live, so he went to London and insisted on bringing him back to spend his last days in Sandwich. Because he had such a small house and retained no live-in servants, Percy didn’t object when James suggested Helmut move into Four Oaks where he would have someone to look after him while Percy was working.

  When James told Gladys that Helmut would be moving in, he asked her if she would need extra help. Gladys suggested that it would be helpful if they could hire a woman experienced in looking after invalids so Helmut could have the best of care. James agreed, and he even allotted the woman a comfortable room in the west wing, so she would be close to her patient.

  When he was having a good day, Helmut would spend it inquiring about everyone’s health, and if they had an ailment, he offered advice.

  One day, Gladys went into his room and was shocked to find Dolly sitting by his bedside reading “Aladdin’s Wonderful Lamp” aloud from the book One Thousand and One Nights. The doctor had become bedridden and unable to control his bowels, making it almost impossible to keep the room smelling fresh. His beautiful eyes were now hazy and sunken, and his cheek bones protruded, but if Dolly was appalled or sickened by his appearance or the stench of his room, she never showed it.

  Thinking Dolly might be a nuisance, Gladys began to scold her, but Helmut frowned and waved his hand at her saying, “Veschwenden sie!” Gladys didn’t understand his words but understood their meaning, and she left the room.

  From then on, except for the times when his pain required double doses of laudanum, Dolly spent an hour every day visiting and reading to her friend. The sound of her young voice took the doctor back to his own childhood. When he closed his eyes and listened to her read, the terrible sights of the poor sick souls who lived in the slums slowly faded, along with the nagging urgency to return to do what little he could for them.