Fairfield Hall

by Margaret Dickinson

  Agnes Banks smiled weakly and avoided looking into Annabel’s brilliant eyes. She knew that if she did, her resolve would crumble in the face of this determined young woman.

  Twenty-Nine

  An hour later, they left the workhouse with the Broughton family squeezed into the trap. ‘Oh m’lady, I can’t wait to get back to me own home, me own kitchen.’

  ‘And what d’you think you’re going to start cooking with, woman?’ Dan said roughly. ‘There’ll be no coal, no food – nothing. We’re going back to a cold, empty house. We’d’ve been better off staying where we was. At least we had three meals a day.’

  ‘Huh! You call that rubbish we were fed in there proper meals – watery gruel and hardly ever the sight of a decent piece of meat?’ Lily snapped back. ‘If you’re so ungrateful to her ladyship, you can go right back there, but me and William – we’re going home.’

  Dan growled but said no more.

  When they drew into the yard at Chaffinch Farm, Dan refused even to look about him. He sat hunched in the back of the trap, his head down, looking at the floor of the vehicle. But William leapt out, helped his mother down and then ran around the yard, peering into the buildings.

  ‘Everything’s still here – just as we left it. The machinery’s here. All we need is horses.’

  Dan roused himself enough to mutter, ‘And where d’you think you’re going to get shire horses from? We’ll need at least two and they cost money – a lot of money.’

  Lily was already hurrying to the back door, anxious to see her kitchen. She disappeared inside but after only a couple of minutes, she reappeared calling, ‘Dan – William – oh, do come and look. Hurry!’

  William ran to the house whilst Annabel held out her hand to Dan, who was still sitting in the back of the trap. ‘Come along, Mr Broughton. At least come inside and have a look. If you’re adamant you want to go back to the workhouse, then we’ll take you, but by the look of it, you’ll be going on your own.’

  Slowly, he raised his eyes to look into her violet gaze. ‘Why?’ he asked huskily. ‘Why are you doing all this to help the likes of us?’

  ‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.’

  ‘We let you down. We couldn’t run the farm well enough to make it pay.’

  Annabel shook her head decisively. ‘None of it was your fault, Mr Broughton. The rents were raised beyond reason. The whole estate failed, not just you. Remember that. Now, do I have to climb back into the trap to push you out?’

  He stared at her for a long moment before saying slowly, ‘Aye, an’ I reckon you would, an’ all. You’re a determined young woman, aren’t you? Do you always get your own way?’

  Annabel stared back at him. His words had touched a raw nerve as she realized that until now, she had never had her own way in life. Her ‘way’ had always been ruled by her father or her mother, even to determining the man she should marry. Somehow, her father had engineered for Gil to leave without a word of goodbye to her and then he had arranged for her ‘coming out’, the Season and meeting James; James, with a title, whom her father had bought for her.

  ‘Not always, Mr Broughton,’ she said a little shakily, ‘but I mean to in this.’

  ‘Come on, Dan.’ Ben came up behind her at that moment. ‘At least come and have a look.’

  He was still reluctant, refusing to get down until there came an excited call from his son, ‘Dad, Dad, you must come. Everything’s here just as we left it. In fact, it’s better than we left it.’ He disappeared again, but now Dan gave a deep sigh and moved stiffly to get out of the trap. He walked slowly across the yard towards the back door, his shoulders hunched, his eyes downcast. Inside the house, he still did not look around him but went straight to his Windsor chair by the fire in the range and sat down in it, gazing into the flames.

  ‘He’ll be all right in a bit, m’lady,’ Lily said. ‘It’s all been a bit of a shock for him. A wonderful surprise, but a shock nevertheless.’ Her face clouded. ‘We all thought we was in there for good.’ She glanced at her son. ‘We didn’t mind for ourselves, but it wasn’t right that William should be in there.’

  William was like a caged bird that had suddenly been allowed to fly freely. ‘M’lady,’ he said a little shyly. ‘What do we do first?’

  ‘What did you used to do, William?’

  The boy glanced at his father for guidance, but Dan was still staring into the fire as if his mind was far away from the farm. William turned back to Annabel. ‘We had a herd of about twenty cows, m’lady, and we used to supply the shops in the village as well as one or two of the shops in town. We teamed up with Mr Chadwick and the folks at Sparrow Farm too. And I think Home Farm did, an’ all.’ He glanced at Ben as if asking the question. Ben nodded.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. The estate had a very good milk business, m’lady.’

  ‘The cattle market in town is on a Wednesday, isn’t it? We’ll go next week, Ben. You, me, Jim Chadwick and William here – and his father, if he’ll come. And ask Adam if he’d like to come too. We must get everyone stocked up. And if Grandfather visits again before then, we’ll ask him to join us.’

  ‘He always used to go regularly, m’lady. He’ll probably be there anyway.’

  ‘But now, we must get back to town to fetch Mrs Parrish. I do hope Mrs Banks has changed her mind and is waiting for us too.’

  But Agnes Banks had not changed her mind; she was nowhere to be found when they arrived back at the workhouse to find Grace Parrish with her few possessions tied up in a bundle. She had changed out of her workhouse uniform and was dressed in the clothes Annabel presumed she had been wearing on the day she’d been admitted. What a dreadful day that must have been. Annabel shuddered at the thought.

  As Ben helped Grace into the back of the trap, she said, ‘I don’t know how to thank you, m’lady. This is the happiest day of me life.’

  ‘There’s a room waiting for you at Fairfield Hall and then, as soon as we can, Mrs Parrish, we’ll have your cottage made ready for you in the village.’

  ‘Where’s Josh now? Me nephew? Well, me great-nephew. He’s not been to see me all the time I’ve been in there. Ashamed, I expect.’

  ‘Josh has been working very hard, Mrs Parrish,’ Annabel said gently. ‘He got a job alongside Mr Fletcher at the smithy in town, but they had to walk there and back every day. They both look exhausted. I’m sure he would have come to see you if he could have done.’

  Grace eyed her sceptically, but didn’t disagree.

  ‘I was sorry not to see Mrs Banks waiting with you,’ Annabel said, tactfully changing the subject.

  Grace sighed. ‘Poor woman. Now she has got summat to be ashamed of. She just can’t face all the pointing fingers and whispering tongues.’

  Annabel frowned. She was still debating how she was going to deal with the problem of Nancy Banks.

  And today was Friday.

  Thirty

  There were tears of joy when Grace Parrish walked into the basement kitchen at Fairfield Hall and into the waiting arms of her daughter. They wept on each other’s shoulder and then Nelly turned wet eyes to Annabel. ‘Oh m’lady, how can we ever thank you?’

  ‘It’s thanks enough to see you both happy and to know that your mother will soon be back in her own cottage.’

  ‘I can help in the kitchen, m’lady,’ Grace said. ‘I can help Nelly. I know you’re short of staff.’

  ‘But your legs, Mam—’ Nelly began and though Grace tried to ‘shush’ her, Annabel’s sharp ears hadn’t missed the words.

  She glanced from one to the other and then said, ‘Let’s all sit down at the table and have a cup of tea. Where’s Annie?’

  ‘Upstairs helping the nurse with Lady Fairfield.’

  ‘Oh dear, she’s not worse, is she?’

  ‘No, no, it’s just that the sheets needed changing and Annie’s just helping, that’s all.’

  ‘That’s a relief! You had me worried for a moment.’

  ‘I’ll make the tea,
’ Jane, who had overheard the conversation, offered. ‘You all sit down.’

  As they sat around the kitchen table, Annabel said, ‘Now, tell me about yourselves and then maybe we can work something out.’

  ‘I used to be the cook here, m’lady, in the old earl’s day, but when me legs got bad, Nelly here took over. I taught her all I know.’ She glanced at her daughter with pride. ‘And I have to say she’s a better cook than I ever was.’

  ‘Aw, Mam, go on with you.’ Nelly flushed with embarrassment, but Annabel could see that her mother’s praise had delighted her.

  ‘At first, when I retired, Lord Fairfield let me live in the cottage next door to Ozzy Greenwood and his mother rent free, and even paid me a small pension, but after he died and his son took over – that’s Albert, m’lady, not your husband – well, they stopped the pension and then he wanted the cottage back. He said he could get a paying tenant. Josh lived with me then, but he was only on an apprentice’s wages. He couldn’t pay the rent the master set and feed us both.’ Her eyes were haunted by the memory. ‘So there was nowt else we could do. Nelly couldn’t help, because he’d cut the wages of all the staff here at the house an’ all – those that were left, that is, ’cos he got rid of a lot, didn’t he, Nelly? Oh, he were a bad ’un, that Albert. And then, of course, there was poor Nancy and her mam, but I expect you know all about that.’

  ‘Sort of,’ Annabel said, ‘but I’d like to know everything. I’m hoping I can help sort things out, but to do so, it’d be better if I knew all the facts.’

  Grace and Nelly glanced at each other. Between them, they told Annabel the whole sorry tale.

  ‘Mrs Banks came as housekeeper and her young daughter as housemaid just before the old earl died. She was a good housekeeper,’ Grace began. ‘Strict, but fair, and she and Mr Searby between them ran the house perfectly. We all knew our place and what was expected of us.’

  ‘And she didn’t show favouritism to her own daughter, either,’ Nelly put in. ‘I’d been promoted from kitchen maid to under-cook when Nancy came.’

  ‘But after his lordship died and Albert inherited the title and the estate, it all changed. He’d been a problem to his parents before that – drinking and womanizing. His father had paid off a lot of his debts and rumour had it there were other girls he’d got pregnant that had to be paid off to be kept quiet,’ Grace said.

  ‘But then he started his shenanigans closer to home. He seduced poor Nancy. She was only just sixteen, m’lady,’ Nelly added.

  ‘Didn’t anyone know what was going on? Her mother?’

  Both Grace and Nelly shook their heads sadly. ‘Nobody knew until she started being sick of a morning and putting on weight. He was careful to keep it very quiet even though it was going on under this roof,’ Grace told her. ‘I suppose, in his way, Albert did try to look after her. He gave her the cottage on the outskirts of the village – had it put in her name – everything. And, for a time, he gave her money.’

  ‘But she had to earn it,’ Nelly said grimly. ‘He kept visiting her down there – if you know what I mean.’

  ‘Then – after he died suddenly – and the estate was plunged into even more debt, the money being paid to her stopped.’ Grace looked up swiftly at Annabel. ‘Your husband wasn’t involved, m’lady, so he had no reason to keep paying her. He couldn’t take back the cottage – that had all been done legally and binding – but Nancy had no means of income. So then –’ Grace paused.

  ‘She started entertaining men from the town,’ Nelly finished for her.

  ‘Only two – and always the same two, Nelly.’

  ‘And that makes it better, Mam?’

  Grace dipped her head and did not reply.

  ‘And what about Mrs Banks when all this was going on? Where was she?’ Annabel asked.

  ‘When it all came out that his lordship had got her daughter pregnant, she resigned her post here. She could hardly carry on in a position of authority over the rest of the staff, now could she?’ Grace replied.

  ‘At first she went to live with Nancy. She didn’t like his lordship visiting, but there wasn’t much she could do about it since they both depended on him,’ Nelly said.

  ‘And the little boy?’

  Despite their disapproval of his mother, both Grace and Nelly softened when they spoke about the child. ‘Bertie? Aw, you have to feel sorry for the little chap. He’s no friends – doesn’t go to school,’ Grace said.

  ‘He’s hardly old enough yet, but then the school’s closed anyway.’

  ‘Yes, that’s something else I’ll have to look into,’ Annabel murmured, ‘The school, I mean.’ But her thoughts were drawn back to the immediate problem of Agnes Banks. ‘So how did Mrs Banks end up in the workhouse?’

  ‘After Albert died and they had no income at all, Nancy took up with the two men who still visit every Friday. It was all she could think of to do to feed her child, her mother and herself,’ Grace continued.

  ‘But her mother couldn’t stand the shame any longer. Just think about it – a well-respected housekeeper for what had once been a good family to come down to that.’

  ‘For a while – after they first left here – Agnes and Nancy set up as dressmakers,’ Nelly said.

  ‘In the premises above the grocer’s?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Nelly nodded. ‘But then when the estate started to go downhill, the last thing women were spending their money on was clothes. Even the mending service she offered dried up; women did it themselves, however bad a job they made of it.’

  ‘Now that’s a thought,’ Annabel said, thinking aloud. ‘Maybe if I offer her those premises again, that might prise her out of the workhouse.’

  The two women stared at her. ‘But there’d be no work. No one can afford a dressmaker now, any more than they could then,’ Nelly reasoned.

  ‘Not at the moment, no,’ Annabel was forced to agree, ‘but soon . . .’

  Nelly was intrigued, even excited by the idea. ‘Nancy’s a good little needlewoman too. Her mother taught her. She used to do a lot of the mending when she was here as a kitchen maid. It wasn’t part of her duties, of course, but she wanted to better herself in time. Poor girl never got the chance because of that brute. He ruined her life – and her mother’s.’

  ‘Well, that’s all going to change, I hope, starting tonight.’

  They both stared at her and even Jane, busy sorting out the vegetables for the evening meal, turned to look at her.

  ‘I’m afraid Nancy’s two gentlemen callers are going to be met with more than they bargained for when they arrive tonight.’

  ‘Oh m’lady, whatever are you going to do? Do be careful.’

  ‘I’m going to meet them and tell them that they are no longer welcome in Fairfield village.’

  ‘Not on your own, surely?’

  ‘No, I shall ask Ben and probably Jim Chadwick and Adam to be with me.’

  ‘Take young Luke, an’ all. He’s handy with his fists,’ Nelly said. ‘Well, he used to be before we started having to go without food.’

  ‘I hope it won’t come to a fisticuffs, but, yes, I’ll take him along.’

  Thirty-One

  That evening, as dusk fell, five shadowy figures walked along the street towards the solitary cottage on the outskirts of the village. Annabel had not asked the vicar to go with them. On reflection, she had felt that it would put him in a difficult position.

  ‘Are you sure Nancy is going to agree with this?’ Jim whispered through the gloom.

  ‘I’ve talked to her. It’s what she wants more than anything – to have her mother home and be accepted back into the community once more.’

  Adam laughed ironically. ‘You’re asking a lot there, m’lady. I don’t think the villagers will want to have owt to do with her.’

  Annabel smiled grimly. ‘We’ll see,’ she murmured.

  When they arrived at the cottage, Nancy opened the door before they had even knocked. Shyly, she ushered them into the small living room.
Her face was bright red and she could not meet the eyes of the four men who were with Annabel.

  ‘Where’s your little boy, Nancy? I don’t want him involved in any of this.’

  ‘He’s in his bedroom. He won’t come down.’

  ‘Well trained, is he?’ Jim Chadwick muttered and Nancy’s colour deepened.

  ‘What time are they due?’

  ‘Any time now, m’lady.’

  ‘Then we’ll sit down to wait, if we may?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I—’ Whatever Nancy had been going to say was cut short by a soft knock at the back door.

  Before Nancy could make any move, Annabel went to open it.

  ‘Well, well, well, what have we here? Another pretty girl to entertain us?’ A man’s deep voice came out of the darkness.

  ‘Hardly,’ Annabel said crisply, as the four men accompanying her ranged themselves protectively behind her. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, gentlemen, but your visits here are to stop.’

  ‘Now, look ’ere, we’ve paid Nancy good money over the years. She owes us—’

  ‘She owes you nothing.’

  ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ A second man stepped out of the shadows and thrust his face close to Annabel’s.

  ‘I know who I am,’ she said quietly, unmoved by his threatening action, even though her insides were churning. ‘But, more to the point, do you know who I am?’

  ‘Another little whore who wants to cash in on Nancy’s business.’

  ‘Oh, a business, is it? And do you keep records of all the transactions? I’d love to see the entry in your ledgers.’

  ‘What are you talking about, you stupid bitch?’

  At her shoulder, Ben moved closer. ‘That’s enough. You’ve heard what Lady Fairfield has said. Now, be on your way and we don’t want to see you back in this village.’

  ‘Oh aye, an’ who are you? You’re his lordship, I suppose.’