Tilly Trotter (The Tilly Trotter Trilogy)

by Catherine Cookson

  ‘Why haven’t you put this to my father if you feel so strongly about it, Mrs Lucas?’

  ‘I . . . I intend to; it’s got to be settled.’

  ‘Settled?’ He bent his head slightly towards her. ‘Which means I understand from the cook that if Trotter doesn’t go you will all go?’

  Mrs Lucas’ tight frame gave a slight shudder that brought her head wagging and she said, ‘Well, yes, something along those lines because I . . . I am at the end of my tether. I’m the housekeeper but I’m not given my position. It . . . it was bad enough when Miss Price was here, but . . . but she was a lady compared with the person upstairs.’

  Harry’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Mrs Lucas and his voice was quiet and very like his father’s as he said, ‘I have been here four days now, Mrs Lucas, and most of the time Trotter seems to have been tending my father, seeing to his needs and the business of the rooms. The only time, to my knowledge, that I’ve known her even come downstairs was when she took the air in the garden yesterday, and except for the twice I’ve been out riding I’ve been in the house most of the time. I don’t see what you’re getting at.’

  Mrs Lucas looked at the cook and the cook looked at Mrs Lucas, then they looked at Maggie Short, but when the eyes turned on Phyllis Coates she had her head bowed and her eyes cast towards the floor, and Harry looked from one to the other and he broke the silence by saying, ‘I’ll inform my father of the situation.’

  ‘Thank you, Master Harry.’ Mrs Lucas’ voice sounded prim. Harry now walked up the kitchen past Maggie Short and Phyllis Coates, who both dipped their knees, and through the green-baized door into the hall and up the stairs.

  Why did they hate the girl? There was nothing about her to dislike that he could see; in fact, he had never seen his father so light-hearted even when he had been able to get about. Yet his father had changed, he was a different man, nervy, he talked louder than he used to, and he was impatient most of the time. Well, that was all to be expected. My God! it must be dreadful to have no feet.

  Tilly was in the dressing room when she heard Harry enter the bedroom and she remained there busying herself with sorting the linen and choosing a shirt and cravat which the master would wear on the morrow. She liked the feel of all his clothes, especially his underwear; as she had discovered down below, the fine wool felt almost like silk.

  Their voices came to her muted, then rising and falling, and she did not pay much attention until she heard Mark say, ‘I’m sorry about Parliament, it will be beyond me;’ then Harry’s answer, ‘That’s all right, I was never keen on it anyway. But I’ll be grateful for another year up there. You can bring it down to a hundred, I can manage on that.’

  ‘No, we’ll keep it to a hundred and fifty.’

  ‘Is there no hope at all of the mine being reopened?’

  ‘None whatever I should say, well, not without a lot of money being spent on it. And you know that’s an impossibility for me now, it will take me all my time to support Eileen and the children from my investments, and these, as you know, fluctuate. Should they go down . . . well, I’m afraid this place will sink with them.’

  ‘How many have you employed here now, Father?’

  ‘Oh, about a dozen inside and out. It’s nothing I suppose, but they all need feeding and clothing and by some of the bills Mrs Lucas presented me with last week they must be eating their heads off down there. Still, what can you do? I don’t suppose it could be run on less.’ There was a long pause; then as Tilly went to close a drawer her hands became still as she heard Master Harry say, ‘Where’s Trotter, next door?’

  ‘No, I thought she went upstairs. Yes, she went up there. Listen.’

  She, too, listened to the faint footsteps going across the nursery floor and wondered for a moment who it could be. Then Harry’s voice brought her head jerking towards the half-open door as he said, ‘How do you find her?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, how do you find Trotter? Is she quarrelsome, throwing her weight about, anything like that?’

  ‘Don’t be silly. What are you getting at? She’s the best thing that’s come into my life since this happened. Oh’ – there followed a laugh now – ‘you’ve been hearing the witch story.’

  ‘Witch story?’

  ‘Yes, some of them think she’s a witch. Can you believe it? Ignorance, you know, Harry, can be really terrifying, for if there was anyone less like a witch than that girl it would be hard to find.’

  ‘No, I hadn’t heard the witch story. So they think she’s a witch, do they? Good heavens! Likely that’s what it’s all about.’

  ‘What what’s all about?’

  ‘They want rid of her downstairs.’

  ‘They want what!’

  ‘Mrs Lucas and the cook, I think they’re going to present you with an ultimatum, either she goes or they do.’

  In the silence that followed Tilly’s imagination couldn’t conjure up any picture of the reaction these words had on the master until she heard his voice filling the room like a bawl now: ‘My God! an ultimatum? Either they or she? The bloody craven upstarts!’

  ‘Now, now, don’t excite yourself.’

  ‘Excite myself? God! I wish I were on my feet. I’d give them ultimatum. Anyway, I can do it from here.’

  ‘Now! now! now! Father. Now please don’t get so excited, you’ll only make yourself ill.’

  ‘Shut up! Shut up! I’m not an invalid. I’m handicapped but that’s all. Anyway, you can tell them to come up and present their ultimatum.’

  ‘What do you intend to do?’

  ‘Take them at their word. They go, every damn one of them who won’t take orders from Trotter . . . they go.’

  ‘But you can’t do that, Father, you can’t leave the house without a staff.’

  ‘I can leave the house without a staff of that kind; and perhaps you don’t know it but there are people roundabout here crying out for work.’

  ‘But they won’t be trained to this kind of work.’

  ‘Look, Harry, Trotter wasn’t trained. She was an ordinary girl, she had one advantage, she could read and write, but you know something, she’s better than any of those damn nurses I had. And as for Simes, well she could wipe her feet on Simes. What’s more, she’s intelligent. I’ve thought these last few days, given the chance she could be something, that girl. Old Burgess set her off reading. No, no, it was the parson’s wife. But he took her deep into it, Voltaire as ever was. Can you believe it, Voltaire? She admits she doesn’t understand it but she will one day I’m sure. But as for that ignorant lot, ultimatum! Well, let them bring their ultimatum. You tell Lucas I want to see her.’

  ‘I would . . . I would rest on it, Father, if I were you. The Christmas holidays are on us and it would only make things very unpleasant.’

  ‘But aren’t they already unpleasant?’

  ‘Well, think it over. Let them come to you.’

  ‘Get me a drink will you, Harry? The decanter’s in the cupboard in the dressing room.’

  Tilly opened her mouth wide, then closed it and turned swiftly to stand with her back to the drawer, her hands outstretched at each side of it. And that was how Harry saw her when he entered the room. When she swiftly put her fingers to her lips he gave a slight nod, went to the cupboard, took out the tray with the decanter and a glass on it, and returned to the bedroom.

  A few minutes later, excusing himself, he went into the dressing room and closed the door; but finding the room empty, he went out into the corridor before making his way to the nursery floor; and as if she had been waiting for him Tilly faced him as he entered the schoolroom.

  Smiling at her, he said, ‘They say listeners never hear any good of themselves, but that wasn’t true in this case, was it, Trotter?’

  ‘I’m . . . I’m sorry, Master Harry, I’d no intention of listening but . . . but when you mentioned my name, well, I couldn’t get out of the room.’

  ‘I understand. Well, anyway, you now know about the
ultimatum.’

  ‘It’s better that I go, Master Harry.’

  ‘Oh no, no, Trotter, I don’t think so. I . . . well, I agree with my father, there’s changes needed in the house, and outside too. Just before I met you in the garden yesterday I had come across both Pilby and Summers fast asleep in the greenhouse. I know it is winter and the ground is too hard to dig but from what I could see during my walk, there were a thousand and one things they could have been doing; the gardens are very neglected. Yes, I think there are changes needed both inside and outside the house, but it is making the change that is going to be awkward. My father thinks he could re-staff from the men and women who are out of work at the mine.

  ‘Aye, yes, he could do that.’ Her eyes widened and an eager note came into her voice. ‘I don’t want to see anybody pushed out of a job, Master Harry, but I can tell you this much, he could do that and save himself a deal of money into the bargain, because most of them would just work for their food and shelter.’

  ‘Oh’ – his face stiffened – ‘that would never be allowed, we’re not starting a new slave trade.’

  ‘I . . . I wasn’t meaning to annoy, Master Harry, but what I say is true. With all the master’s workmen and their families, the main concern is food. Yet’ – her voice sank – ‘after saying all that I feel it would be better if I went.’

  ‘My father wouldn’t hear of it. But don’t worry, something will work out. It’s strange how such trifles are overcome.’

  . . . Such trifles.

  At half past three the following afternoon Tilly was hurrying back from a visit to the Drews.

  Early that morning the master had given her half a sovereign to buy herself a present for Christmas, and she had taken it to Biddy, and Biddy had held her in her arms, and Katie had fallen on her neck, and the youngsters had cried, and she had cried with them.

  She had not stayed more than fifteen minutes because she was eager to get back to her duties, and in spite of the bitter winds the whole Drew family had insisted on setting her to the end of the row, and their cries of ‘Merry Christmas, Tilly!’ as she ran along the road into the deepening gloom had warmed her.

  She was taking the short cut behind the lodge at the back gates of the estate when she stumbled into Frank Summers, a small basket of eggs in one hand and a rough parcel from which protruded a side of bacon in the other. They both stopped and stared at each other. It was she who spoke first. ‘I . . . I advise you to take those back, Mr Summers,’ she said.

  There was a pause before he answered; then, ‘Mind your own bloody business you!’ he growled, ‘else I’ll give it to you where it hurts most, right atween your eyes. I’ve had enough of you. The lot of us have. You! You young scut!’

  He put down the basket and parcel in front of the door and began to advance on her, and she cried at him, ‘Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare lay a finger on me! If you do you’ll know about it. Now I’m warnin’ you.’

  But even as she spoke she backed from him and rounded the corner of the Lodge towards the drive, the while he slowly advanced on her, muttering, ‘You dirty sneaking young runt you! Puttin’ Master Harry on to us yesterda’!’

  ‘I did no such thing.’

  ‘Who else then?’

  ‘Perhaps he’s finding things out for himself.’ She was still moving slowly backwards.

  ‘You’re a menace. You know that? You’re a menace.’

  ‘An’ you an’ the rest of you are a lot of thieves. You’ve been robbin’ the master for years. You’ve been stuffin’ things in there’ – she flung out her arm now – ‘all summer. You’re as bad as them in the house, chargin’ the master double for everything with their share-outs once a month. You should be ashamed of yourself, the lot of yous.’

  ‘Shut your mouth, you sneaking little witch! The bits we take nobody would miss.’

  ‘Bits!’ She was yelling back at him now. ‘Dozens of eggs at one go; and pigs . . . I know, I’ve seen you at it afore. And they’re picked up for the market, aren’t they? And the fruit from the greenhouses. For two pins I’d go back right there and tell the master everything.’

  ‘You do, me dear, you do, an’ you take it from me you won’t be able to see out of your eyes or walk for weeks. This is one you haven’t got frightened, witch or no witch . . . Look, I’m not afeared to grab you.’

  As his hands came on her she screamed and tore at his face with her fingers. But it was all over in a moment because she seemed to be torn from him and thrust into the long grass, and as she saw a whip descend across his shoulders she held her hand tightly over her mouth.

  When she scrambled to her feet Summers was standing bent against the wall of the lodge holding his hand to his neck.

  ‘Go on! Get away and pack up whatever belongs to you and get off this land as from today!’

  ‘You . . . you didn’t employ me.’ Summers was walking backwards now, still holding his neck. ‘’Tis only the master can sack me!’ and Harry followed him, saying, ‘Well, I’m acting for the master, and—’ He now looked towards the parcel and the basket lying at the lodge door and ended, ‘Give me the key of the lodge.’

  ‘I haven’t got it.’

  Harry turned his head and looked towards Tilly. She did not speak but bent down and groped in the grass. After a moment she found the stone and took from under it the key and handed it to him.

  Opening the door of the lodge, Harry went inside. On the bench in the scullery there were three empty fruit skips and, leaning against the wall under the bench, was a sack filled up to its gaping top with potatoes.

  Turning to Tilly, he said, ‘Bring those packages in, Trotter;’ and when she entered the scullery, he said, ‘Put them on the bench there and take up the empty ones.’

  She did this and went outside again where Summers was standing some distance away scowling darkly. When Harry said to him, ‘Get back to your quarters and stay there until I come,’ the man moved his head slowly and ground his teeth before turning away.

  Harry now looked at Tilly, saying quietly, ‘Throw those skips into the grass. Whoever is going to pick that stuff up’ – he nodded towards the window – ‘will come before dark surely . . . Can you lead a horse?’

  ‘I . . . I haven’t done so yet, Master Harry.’

  ‘Well, come.’ He led the way on to the drive, saying, ‘He’s gentle. Just take the lead, walk by his side, and take him to Leyburn. No, on second thoughts, I’ll tie him up along the drive.’

  ‘But . . . but what if there’s more than one of them, Master Harry?’

  ‘Don’t worry; I’m not going to do anything brave, I’m just going to see who picks the stuff up. But I don’t think it’ll be any of the miners or those really in need, not if, as you say, this has been going on for a long time.’

  She lowered her head as she muttered now, ‘I’ve . . . I’ve wanted to speak about it but I knew it would only cause trouble.’

  ‘You say inside is as bad too?’

  ‘Worse, if anything, Master Harry. The bills could be lessened by half, I know that.’

  ‘Are they all in it?’

  ‘Aye, yes.’

  ‘Good Lord!’ He jerked his head. ‘How does it work?’

  ‘They dish it out according to their positions.’

  ‘And you? How did you come off when you looked after the children?’

  Her head was bent again. ‘They allotted me coppers, I didn’t want it but . . . but they had enough against me so I took it to keep the peace.’

  ‘Well, well, we live and learn. I know there’s always bound to be rake-offs, but I thought it would only be the butler with the wine, you know, or the housekeeper getting a little percentage back from the tradesmen. But you think everything has been doubled?’

  She didn’t answer for a while, but then moved her head in an uncertain movement, saying now, ‘Well, I don’t know what the bills were but it seemed a lot of money to me that was doled out from Cook’s book.’

  ‘Cook’s book?’ There
was a high enquiry in his voice now.

  ‘Well, she was over the kitchen staff and . . . and . . . Oh, I feel terrible, Master Harry, saying all this.’

  ‘Well, you’re only confirming what I already overheard from the road. And apart from that, I think I came just in time because that man was vicious, he could have done you an injury; and apparently’ – now he poked his head towards her – ‘he isn’t afraid of witches.’

  She didn’t smile, she was sick to the pit of her stomach. Mr Pike, Simes, Mrs Lucas, the cook, Maggie Short, Ada Tennant, Amy Stiles, Phyllis Coates – Oh aye – Phyllis. What would happen to Phyllis? And Fred, Fred Leyburn. And then the outside men. She didn’t care what happened to Summers, nor yet to Pilby, but Mr Hillman . . . well, he had his cottage, and his wife wasn’t in the best of health either. She had at one time been one of the laundry maids but she’d had to give it up when the daily ones came in . . . It was Christmas and they’d all be out of work. She’d be putting them out of work. Oh no, she couldn’t take the blame for that.

  ‘Go along now; but don’t say anything to my father.’

  She turned away and went up the drive and into the house by the side door, and when she reached her room on the nursery floor she lit the candle and sat down for a moment on the side of the bed. She was still in her outdoor clothes, but she was cold right to the heart of her. What was it about her that seemed to invite trouble? Was she so different from other girls? No, not that she could see. The only difference was that she could read and write a bit; but as yet her writing wasn’t up to much. These two accomplishments were the only difference that divided her from the rest of youth because she was sure her feelings were just like those of other girls of her age: Katie, for instance, although she was younger; Maggie Short in the kitchen. There now came a doubt in her mind. Did they lie awake at night thinking of love? Not by anybody. Oh no, not by anybody, just by one person. But no matter what they thought, people didn’t react to them like they reacted to herself. And it wasn’t only women who were against her, it was men too. They either loved her or hated her, there was no in between, no friendliness. That’s what she wanted. If she couldn’t have love, then friendliness was the next best thing, and at this moment that seemed as remote from her as the nightly desire and dream that Simon Bentwood was laying his head on her breast.