by Maggie Hope
Left to think about it in the intervals between her frequent naps, Ada worried about the reaction of Mrs Gray, a quiet, soft-spoken woman she hardly knew. Did she really not care if her daughter mixed with a girl of the servant class and, what was worse, the lowest rank of the servant class? A girl with no family? That was one of the many questions running around in Ada’s head, but in her weakened state the thought that she could have somewhere to go when she left hospital was a tonic in itself. It was an offer of escape from the workhouse sooner than expected, a chance to begin again. In the end these were the considerations that weighed the most and Ada gratefully decided to accept the Grays’ kind offer. She even began to look forward to the future a little, once again.
There had been no reason to worry about Mrs Gray not wanting her, Ada found when she finally arrived at the Grays’. Mrs Gray adored her husband and thought that everything he said was right must be so. Once he had agreed to having Ada as a companion for their daughter, it was for his wife to support him, and she did so wholeheartedly. She welcomed Ada to her house one late August afternoon with a kindly smile and warm words.
Dr Gray had called for Ada at the hospital after he had finished his rounds. He helped her down from the trap and gave her his arm to lean on as they walked to the front door where his wife was waiting.
‘How are you, my dear?’ Mrs Gray stepped forward. ‘Better, I hope? I’m sure you will want to go straight to your room, you must still feel weak. Virginia will show you, won’t you, Virginia?’
Virginia had heard the sound of the wheels on the gravel of the drive and was coming up from the garden, her face split into a wide grin. She slipped her arm through Ada’s.
‘You’re here at last. I’ve been waiting for ages. Come on then, we’ll go up. I have heaps to talk to you about.’
‘Don’t tire her, Virginia,’ Dr Gray called. ‘And while you’re about it, don’t forget you’re still convalescent yourself.’
Virginia pulled a face at him and led Ada up the stairs to a small bedroom at the back of the house. ‘It was Nanny’s room,’ she said as they stood in the doorway. ‘I asked if you could have this room because it is close to mine. I know it’s only small but …’
‘It’s lovely,’ breathed Ada, gazing round at the bowl of flowers on the dresser, the chintz curtains at the window. The walls were distempered a very pale magnolia so that the general effect was bright, cheerful and airy. Her box must have been collected from Mrs Dunne’s for her clothes were laid out on the patchwork counterpane. This, thought Ada, was by far the grandest bedroom she had ever been in. There was even a proper wardrobe of light mahogany. She wandered in and touched the smooth polished wood, unable to say more.
‘You do like it, don’t you?’ Virginia faltered as Ada stood without speaking.
‘Eeh, I do, I love it!’ Ada showed it in the enthusiastic face she turned to Virginia and the way she completely forgot her resolution never to say ‘Eeh’ again. ‘I’m so grateful, I promise I’ll do my best to pay you back – as soon as I’m strong enough, that is. I’ll work.’ Work, Ada thought, was all she had to give. She was overwhelmed by the kindness of the Gray family. It was all completely new to her, though, this feeling of obligation to other people, and a spark of her former independent spirit was flickering to life inside her.
The two girls smiled at each other, and Mrs Gray, coming along the corridor just then, was struck by the contrast between them. Ada had become painfully thin during her illness and she had a melancholy air. Virginia, on the other hand, was getting quite plump and pink-cheeked; she had recovered almost completely from her illness earlier in the year.
‘Come down when you’re ready, girls,’ Mrs Gray said as she passed them. ‘There’s tea in the conservatory.’
‘Yes, Mum,’ Virginia answered and waited until they were alone again before asking Ada, ‘Did you hear from your friend in Middlesbrough, then?’
‘I heard he died,’ Ada said bleakly, turning her head away and staring out of the window to the kitchen garden.
‘Oh, Ada, how sad!’ Virginia put her arms around the thin shoulders and hugged her.
‘It’s all right,’ said Ada. ‘After all, he wasn’t really my lad.’ She felt awkward, she wasn’t used to people being so demonstrative. Virginia gave her a puzzled look but said no more; unpleasant things were best forgotten in her philosophy.
Gradually, during the remainder of the summer and early autumn, Ada began to recover her normal good health. Dr Gray had reassured her that the attack had not been such a serious one; her heart was not affected so there was no reason to suppose she would not make a full recovery.
‘You have a good constitution,’ he told her. ‘You must have been well-nourished as a child.’ Ada thought about the enormous plates of dinner which Auntie Doris had served in the boarding house. At least some good had come from her childhood there.
Living with the family but not of the family, Ada had to remind herself frequently that she would soon have to leave and make her own way again. But time enough to think of that when she was well. Meanwhile, she sat in the garden with Virginia when it was fine, or took slow walks by the River Wear. She took on small jobs of sewing she noticed needed doing, repairing household linen or sewing on buttons. She tried hard to make herself useful as far as she could.
Still, the bouts of depression brought on by her illness kept recurring. At times she felt lower than she had ever felt before and found it very difficult to hide from Virginia, who didn’t understand. Virginia liked everyone to be bright and smiling all the time.
If only Eliza lived nearby, she thought, longing to talk to her. Virginia wasn’t the same and at the back of Ada’s mind was the realisation that Virginia would go back to school in a short time. Then there would be no reason to stay with the Grays, imposing on a family which had always been kind to her.
Ada tried to keep her mind occupied by watching the family and patterning her behaviour and speech on theirs. She had almost succeeded in eliminating the scorned ‘Eeh’, substituting ‘Oh’. Books were becoming her great delight for her reading and writing had improved at a tremendous rate, and she had discovered a great capacity for knowledge. Somehow, Mr Johnson had found out about her illness and he visited her one day as she sat in the garden alone, Virginia having gone with her mother on a call.
‘Mr Johnson! How did you know I was here?’
Ada remembered her manners as the old man came across the lawn, a box of chocolates in his hand. ‘How are you, Mr Johnson? I do hope you found someone else to do your washing.’
‘Never mind that, how are you, my dear? I was worried about you when you didn’t turn up for work.’ He looked around for a seat and took a garden chair, bringing it beside Ada. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down, do you?’ He handed Ada the chocolates, the first chocolates she had ever had in her life. ‘I hope you like chocolates, my dear.’
Ada didn’t know whether she did or not, but she was overwhelmed by the gift. She took the box, which had a picture of a lady in a great hat covered with roses and a bright red ribbon on the corner.
‘Oh yes, I do, Mr Johnson, it’s ever so kind of you.’
‘Nonsense, Ada. I saw Dr Gray in Silver Street yesterday and asked if he knew what had happened to you, I remembered you mentioned his daughter to me once. I was so sorry to hear you’d been so ill. I hope you’re getting better now – coming along, are you?’
‘I’m almost back to normal, thank you, Mr Johnson.’
Ada made to rise from her chair. ‘I’ve got your book of folk tales in my room, I’m sorry I kept it so long. I’ll go and get it, it won’t take a minute.’
‘No, no, you keep it, my dear.’ Mr Johnson put out his hand to stop her. He glanced at the book she had put on the table when he had come. ‘What’s this you’re reading now? May I?’ He picked up the book and scanned it briefly. ‘A life of Florence Nightingale? Do you have ambitions to be a nurse?’
‘Well, I had thought …’
/> ‘You’ll need to know some elementary mathematics for that. I have just the right textbook for you. I’ll bring it over.’
‘Well, I haven’t really thought of nursing, I don’t think – with not going to school and all –’
‘It doesn’t matter, not if you’re determined, Ada. If you are prepared to work, that is.’
Ada lay back on her cushion. Suddenly she felt tired, doubtful of herself and her abilities. Mr Johnson was well-meaning, but there was the business of earning a living, which had to come before any future ambitions. He saw she had wearied at once.
‘I’ll go now, Ada,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to tire you too much. But I’ll come back to see you if I may?’
‘Yes, of course, Mr Johnson.’
Ada picked up the box of chocolates after he had gone. It did look lovely, it was a shame to open it, she thought listlessly. And anyway, chocolate didn’t taste like pear drops. But the ribbon reminded her of the ones Johnny had bought her, long ago, on her birthday. Was it her eighth birthday or tenth? Auntie Doris had confused her. Maybe she would seek out her birth certificate.
Chapter Thirteen
‘Only three more weeks and I go back to school,’ Virginia said one day as they were standing in the conservatory looking out on a rain-sodden garden.
‘Three weeks!’ It came as a shock to Ada. Oh, she knew it had to come, but now it loomed so near she felt suddenly insecure.
‘And I’ll be back at university working for my finals.’ Tom came up behind them and grinned at the girls as they turned to greet him. ‘Then won’t I be grand? Dr Thomas Gray! I sometimes think it will never happen.’
‘Oh, course it will.’ Virginia was stout in her support of Tom’s flagging confidence. As far as she was concerned her brother could do anything.
Tom laughed at her but his eyes were on Ada. She looked up, caught his eye and was a little disturbed at the interest she saw there. Her composure slipped and she turned away, fiddling with the belt of her skirt.
‘Come on.’ Tom smiled and linked an arm with both girls. ‘Let’s not just stand here being as gloomy as the weather. We’ll have a game of cards, shall we?’ He marched them both, laughing, into the dining room, where they proceeded for a hilarious couple of hours to play pontoon for matchstick money. Ada was completely new to the game, there had been no time in her past life for such pastimes, and she concentrated seriously on it.
Tom cheated outrageously, acquiring a huge pile of matches and bankrupting Virginia to her squeals of protest. But he was watching the sparkle of fun in Ada’s eyes as she saw what he was up to and the way she threw herself into the game with evident enjoyment as soon as she was sure of the rules.
‘Let’s have a stroll, shall we?’ Virginia suggested at last. The sun had come out and the thought of getting out and about was inviting. So the girls brought wraps and the three of them walked down Elvet to the racecourse by the Wear. Somehow it was Ada’s side Tom was by for most of the time, with Virginia in front or bringing up the rear. Virginia, never slow to spot a budding romance, ended up trailing behind wearing a knowing smile.
The sun gleamed on the Wear, which was rain-swollen and peaty brown from the fells. In the distance Pelaw Wood was becoming tinged with the colours of autumn, copper, red and gold. The grass still sparkled with rain. Tom watched the two girls. Ada’s white shirtwaister was the perfect foil for her dark curls and pink cheeks, providing the complete contrast to Virginia’s fair prettiness. The warmth of the sun and the warmth of Tom’s smile, for he was putting himself out to charm, combined to give Ada the happiest time she had had since that spring day in the Bishop’s Park, a lifetime ago or so it seemed to her.
‘I think my brother has a pash on you,’ Virginia said wickedly as she sat at her dressing table that evening. Ada was brushing the thick, fair hair with a silver-backed hairbrush, something Virginia loved.
‘What?’ Ada paused in mid-stroke, she was so surprised. She looked over Virginia’s shoulder into the looking glass and saw the other girl’s grin. ‘Oh, Virginia, you’re being daft!’
‘I’m not. And I do believe you are blushing.’ Virginia grinned mischievously again as Ada picked up a green ribbon the exact shade of Virginia’s dress and tied it in a big bow at the nape of her neck.
‘Well, I believe we will be late down if we don’t get a move on.’ Ada was brisk, the best way to cope with Virginia’s nonsense was simply to ignore it. Tom was just being nice to his sister’s friend because he was that sort of a lad, she told herself, that was all there was to it. But she remembered the look in his eyes earlier in the day.
‘Oh, I know my own brother!’ Virginia gave her appearance a cursory glance in the looking glass and grimaced at her reflection as she moved to the door. Ada followed with mixed feelings. She would be self-conscious now around Tom, she thought vexedly. But the main result of the conversation was that it had made her think again about Johnny. The picture rose again in her mind, the laughing green eyes and vivid hair, even the light, clean smell of him. She became very quiet with a faraway look in her lovely eyes as they sat down to dinner.
‘Penny for your thoughts!’ said Tom in the time-honoured way. He had been watching her from his seat across the table from her. She had finished her meal and was gazing out of the window at the fading sunset which lit the trees with a rosy glow. The usual family small talk flowed around her and she had been letting her mind drift. She looked up at Tom with a start.
‘I wasn’t really thinking of anything.’
‘Perhaps this would be a good time to discuss your future,’ the doctor broke in from his place at the head of the table. He too had been watching Ada and it occurred to him that she could be worrying about it. ‘We thought,’ he went on, ‘Mrs Gray and I, that you might stay on here after Virginia goes back to school.’ He turned to his wife. ‘Ada could help you round the house, we thought, didn’t we, dear?’ Mrs Gray nodded her agreement.
‘Oh, that would be lovely!’ Virginia clapped her hands and grinned widely at Ada. ‘Then you would be here when I come home for Christmas.’
‘I don’t know.’ Ada faltered. ‘You are all so kind to me, the kindest people I have ever met. But I must get back to standing on my own feet. I must not be a burden to you.’
‘Nonsense,’ Mrs Gray put in crisply. ‘You will be a help, not a burden. We only have Cook living in and you can help me with the light housework. It will be nice to have you when the children go back, it’s rather lonely here with the doctor out all hours. That’s all settled then, at least for the present. Until you are much stronger than you are now.’
Ada had her reservations, though, and by Mrs Gray’s last remark she realised it was not a permanent offer. But she hadn’t been thinking about her future; her thoughts had been in the past for the whole of the evening. She thought now about the one friend she had left behind in Bishop Auckland and reproached herself for not getting in touch with Eliza before now. As soon as she could she would go to her room and write to West Auckland, she could write quite a good letter now.
A week later a reply to her letter came back. She opened the letter while sitting at breakfast one morning and read it with Virginia waiting impatiently to hear what it was all about. This was the first post Ada had received during her stay with them and Virginia was curious.
‘Well, what is it? Who is it from?’ Virginia could contain herself no longer.
‘Virginia! Don’t pry into Ada’s private affairs,’ said Mrs Gray sharply.
‘It’s all right, Mrs Gray.’ Ada looked up and smiled at Virginia. ‘It’s from a friend of mine, I used to work with her in Bishop Auckland. Now she lives in West Auckland and she wants me to go to see her on Saturday if I can manage it.’
‘Oh, yes. I remember you writing to her, ages ago,’ Virginia commented. ‘Do you mean to say she has only just replied?’
‘No.’ Ada had a pang of conscience as she remembered the appeal in Eliza’s last letter, the one she had received just b
efore she was ill. She should have gone to see her friend as soon as she was fit enough. Looking at the letter again, Ada saw that Eliza didn’t seem quite so unhappy; perhaps she was getting used to living in West Auckland. ‘She would like me to go to see her.’
‘Why not?’ Virginia blithely ignored her mother’s quelling glance and looked hopefully at Ada. ‘May I go with you? I’ve never been to West Auckland.’ Virginia was always ready for an outing of any kind.
‘Well …’ Ada was a little taken aback; Eliza would not be prepared for a lady visitor. It could be embarrassing for her, being so poor.
‘Virginia!’ Mrs Gray had noticed Ada’s hesitation and guessed the reason for it. ‘Will you behave yourself?’ This time the note in her voice got through to Virginia and she subsided with a pout.
‘I tell you what,’ Tom chipped in, seeing his sister’s disappointment. ‘We will all three go to Bishop Auckland. I can take the trap and we can have a picnic in the park while Ada goes to see her friend. How about that?’
Virginia agreed with enthusiasm. ‘Tom! What a good idea! I’ve never been to Bishop Auckland either and it will be such a nice ride out. You’re the best brother anyone ever had!’ she declared, rather extravagantly.
Ada smiled gratefully at Tom. She hadn’t wanted to disappoint Virginia but she had been in a difficult position.
‘I don’t remember saying you could use the trap.’ Dr Gray spoke for the first time. Virginia looked at him in consternation and he twinkled at her expression. ‘Well,’ he said grudgingly, ‘I don’t usually need it on Saturdays. I suppose you can have it.’ He ducked behind his newspaper and smiled broadly at his wife.
‘Oh, you!’ Virginia relaxed.
‘But only if the weather is fine, mind,’ her father added as an afterthought before changing the subject and speaking to Tom. ‘I was thinking of buying a motorcar. Maybe next week, before you go back to university, we’ll begin to look around for one.’