When Day is Done

  ‘No, you’re still the kind-hearted girl you always was, but you can weigh people up a bit better and you can stand up to the missus,’ said Mrs Molesworth. ‘It’s a good thing, girl. You was far too soft for your own good.’

  ‘I’d never change my mind about you and Josie, Mrs Molesworth,’ Kate said earnestly. ‘But I do feel a bit different about Aunt Mildred and some other people. I think I know now what’s true and what’s false.’

  ‘I’m made up to hear that, girl,’ Mrs Molesworth said, smiling at Kate.

  Kate felt too that her attitude to Rose was changing. The moment when she had thought of her sister as selfish was the first time she had ever felt critical towards her. She had always seen Rose only as her beloved little sister, to be watched over and guided and have her small worries and complaints soothed away. Now Kate found herself comparing Josie’s life and her cheerful acceptance of it with the constant complaints made by Rose, and feeling impatient with her sister.

  Kate lacked the experience or the imagination to realise the depth of Rose’s frustration and her very real suffering. The years of excelling at academic subjects, of listening to Miss Tasker talking about exceptional women, had opened up new horizons for Rose. She had suggested becoming a doctor because of her admiration for Elizabeth Garrett Anderson, without really thinking of what was involved.

  What Rose really craved was knowledge and more education to fit her to become someone of note in the world. She believed that she had the intellect and longed to have it stretched. Now she felt that the doors which had seemed to be opening for her were being slammed in her face without any reference to her wishes or her abilities, and she was helpless to do anything about it.

  She was intelligent and clear-sighted enough to see that her years of living in luxury had not fitted her for anything but staying with Beattie, but although she appeared to have accepted her fate with a good grace, the resentment and bitterness she felt stayed with her throughout her life.

  Kate was unaware of this and was pleased to hear about the cruise. She thought it was just what Rose needed to reconcile her to leaving school, and hoped she appreciated her good fortune.

  Mildred had done nothing about extra help, although Kate had asked her several times about engaging an orphan. ‘She always has some excuse about being prevented from going to the orphanage or having a sick headache or something,’ she told Mrs Molesworth and Josie. ‘I’m determined to do something. I’ll tell her I’ll go myself.’

  ‘Don’t go in them clothes,’ Mrs Molesworth advised. ‘The likes of that matron judge you by what you’ve got on your back, and you’ll feel better able for her if you’ve got good clothes on you.’

  Josie agreed. ‘You said you were going to get new clothes when you got the money. I soon spent what you give me.’

  ‘I haven’t had time,’ Kate said.

  ‘Make time, girl. It’s important,’ Mrs Molesworth said, and Kate took her advice. She bought a whole new outfit for herself, a suit with a long jacket and skirt in blue, a white blouse and a large blue hat trimmed with white. She added white gloves to hide her work-worn hands.

  ‘You look a proper lady,’ Josie told her when she wore the outfit to go to the Mission, and Mrs Molesworth said, ‘Aye, class will out, girl.’ Kate had also discarded her steel-rimmed spectacles, now too small and permanently askew, and bought well-fitting gold-rimmed glasses after having her eyes tested. Josie had acquired a pair of curling tongs, and after piling Kate’s soft brown hair in a bun on top of her head, she had frizzed the strands which escaped into a fringe.

  Kate was especially glad that she had improved her appearance when Agnes met her in the hall and invited her to attend a meeting with her new friend, Winifred Doyle. ‘It’s about raising funds for a Christmas hotpot for poor children,’ she said. ‘We have to make plans in good time and I’m sure you’re interested.’ Kate assured her that she was, and on the night she dressed very carefully and Josie did her hair.

  She was amazed to find that Henry intended to accompany them. However, there were several other young men at the meeting and Kate was introduced to several of them, but in her estimation they were poor specimens compared to Henry. He was cheerful and attentive, finding good seats for the ladies of his party and obtaining tea for them.

  I feel cherished, Kate thought wistfully. She was pleased that she was able to spend time in his company without betraying her feelings, although she felt that Winifred Doyle was watching her closely. It might only be because Henry was friendly with her, she thought, but later she decided that Miss Doyle was a snob who treated her politely but patronisingly and disliked having her in her company.

  She felt that other ladies were patronising too, and shy and timid though she was, there was a vein of independence in Kate which resented it. She held her head high, telling herself that as far as class went, she was as good or better than anyone there. I know it, she thought defiantly, even if they don’t.

  She took off her glove and held out her work-roughened hand to the next young lady to whom she was introduced. Let them see I work for my living, she thought stubbornly. Despite her defiance, she decided that she would refuse any further invitations, though she would make the items for the bazaar she had promised.

  Later, as she lay in bed, Kate remembered a conversation she had had with Mrs Molesworth, and realised that, as ever, the charwoman was right. ‘You’re neither fish, fowl nor good red herring the way the missus has got you here. She should o’ reared you as her niece from the start, but she wanted it both ways. She wanted a niece but she wanted a skivvy an’ all, and now you don’t know where you belong, with us or with the nobs.’

  ‘But I do, Mrs Molesworth,’ Kate had protested. ‘You and Josie are all the friends I want.’

  ‘But you should be looking higher than us for friends, girl, and wharrabout when you come to get married? You’ll want a man what can talk like you about them books and things, not a butcher’s lad or the like. Your aunt done you a bad turn being too mean to take on another girl for the work and rear you proper as her niece,’ Mrs Molesworth added.

  Kate laughed. ‘No sign of fellows flocking to marry me, so you needn’t worry about that. I’m quite happy as I am,’ she declared, and Mrs Molesworth said swiftly, ‘Only because you’ve gorra gift for happiness, girl. It’s in your nature, thank God.’

  During the next few days, Kate often thought of Mrs Molesworth’s words. Until now she had been happy enough taking vicarious pleasure in Josie’s many conquests or losing herself in the romances she read, but now she considered the young men she had met at the meeting. Although she despised them, she knew that any one of them would have considered her too inferior for marriage to be considered.

  The young men who worked in the grocer’s or butcher’s shops from whom Josie chose her escorts knew Kate chiefly as Mildred’s niece, and would never have thought of asking her out, and even the maids in other houses who were friendly with Josie were wary of becoming too friendly with Kate.

  Mrs Molesworth’s right, thought Kate, but why should I care even if I never get married? I wouldn’t want anybody but Henry anyway.

  Kate missed the visits to Greenfields and longed to see her sister, but Beattie and Rose were still away. The cruise had been a success and Beattie had made new friends who intended to spend the winter in the South of France. Beattie decided that there was no reason why she should not do the same, and that it would improve her health.

  ‘It’s well for her,’ Mildred grumbled when the letter came. ‘Able to please herself like that,’ but Kate thought that Mildred also did just as she pleased. She had still done nothing about extra help, and Kate suddenly lost her temper.

  ‘Something has got to be done about this house,’ she said angrily. ‘We can’t go on. I can never have any time off and twice Josie has given up her half-day. I’m not having it. Mrs Molesworth has done two hours extra each day, paid for by me although she doesn’t know that, and you haven’t even noticed. You jus
t don’t care about the place any more.’

  Mildred had sat in astounded silence as the flood of words washed over her, but now she said sharply, ‘Oh yes, I do care, miss, and don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve fallen below my standards. This is my guesthouse, the fruit of my hard work, and don’t you forget it. I can change my will, you know, and I don’t have to keep you here. I won’t have ingratitude.’

  Kate stood up, trembling with anger. ‘Very well, Aunt,’ she said. ‘I’ll go, but I don’t owe you anything. I’ve been told that more than once but now I see it’s true. I’ve worked hard since I came here but you’ve taken it all for granted.’

  As she turned away, Mildred said sharply, ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I’m leaving. You’d no right to say that about your will – as though I care about that. And about the standards. I’ve tried my best but I can’t make bricks without straw. All that talk about me being in charge, but I’ve got no say in things really. Only all the worry.’ Kate pulled blindly at the door handle, her eyes full of hurt tears.

  Mildred was alarmed. ‘Wait a minute, wait a minute,’ she said. ‘No need to get upset. You know I speak my mind. I realise you’ve worked hard for me.’ It was impossible for Mildred to apologise but she managed to say, ‘Come and sit down, Kate. No need for tantrums about this.’

  Kate sat down and wiped her eyes, and Mildred went on: ‘I do intend to get more help but I’ve just been too busy with my work with the Mission and the sewing circle. I haven’t had time to go to the orphanage.’

  ‘I’ll go, Aunt, and I’ll take Josie with me because she’s kept in touch with the place,’ Kate said. ‘She can help me to pick a good girl.’ She had surprised herself as much as Mildred, but when her aunt meekly agreed she followed up her advantage. ‘We need some trained help immediately,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard of a woman who was a function waitress before she married. She’d come for three afternoons for six shillings a week. Should I arrange it?’

  Mildred looked taken aback. ‘You seem to have it all worked out,’ she said. ‘I’ll agree to this, but I don’t want any more arrangements made behind my back like this extra time for Mrs Molesworth.’

  ‘It was necessary,’ Kate said. ‘I know you pride yourself on never stinting on food or coal, Aunt, but we can’t manage without help in the house.’

  Mildred stared at her, then smiled grimly. ‘Maybe you take after me after all,’ she said. ‘We’ve both spoken our minds today, but I’m sorry to hear you’re not grateful for a good home. I did my duty when your mother died, and so did Beattie. It would have been the orphanage or the workhouse for you both otherwise.’

  ‘I know. I have been grateful all these years really,’ Kate admitted. ‘I was just annoyed.’

  Mildred stood up. ‘Very well. We’ve cleared the air now. No more talk of leaving,’ she said. ‘You can have a free hand with the orphan and with this waitress woman, but I’ve got to see them and approve of them before they start.’

  Kate wrote to the matron of the orphanage offering to take one of the orphans to train for domestic service and saying that Josie would recommend the guesthouse.

  ‘That’ll stick in her craw,’ Josie chuckled. ‘She hated the sight of me and she only sent me here because she thought I’d have a hard life with the missus. Got her eye wiped, didn’t she?’

  ‘I’m glad you see it like that, Josie,’ Kate said. ‘At least you won’t have to work so hard from now on.’ She had gone without delay to see the waitress, Dodie, who agreed to work three afternoons. She came to the house to meet Josie and see the kitchen and dining room, and Kate took her to be approved by Mildred.

  ‘She seems clean and respectable,’ Mildred said later. ‘But why do you want her for three afternoons?’

  ‘For Josie’s day off and for when I’m out, and for the orphan’s half-day when she comes,’ Kate said. Mildred seemed about to say something but looked at Kate and changed her mind.

  Josie had kept in touch with the orphanage, and although her friends had now left she still took bags of sweets to the children. She recommended a girl to Kate: ‘Her name’s Charlotte Higson,’ she said. ‘She went there when her mam died when she was eight, so she’s been well brought up and she’s a hard worker.’ Kate trusted Josie’s judgement and arranged to collect the girl from the orphanage.

  She was given a frosty reception by the matron, who told her that she usually selected the girls for domestic service herself. ‘I have more suitable girls than Higson,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why you have asked for her.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I have asked for her,’ Kate said coolly. ‘I hope she’s ready. I’m in rather a hurry,’ and the matron grudgingly rang for the girl to be brought to her office.

  Charlotte Higson was a small, skinny girl with brown hair and large frightened blue eyes. She was shy and nervous with Kate at first, but Josie was waiting in the kitchen with tea and cake to welcome them, and Lottie – as they decided to call her – was soon at ease. Mrs Molesworth informed her that she was a lucky girl. ‘You’ve fell on your feet here, girl, with Kate in charge,’ she told her.

  Later Kate took Lottie up to see Mildred, but after telling the girl she expected her to work hard, Mildred dismissed them, as she was going out. ‘My aunt owns this place so she had to approve you,’ Kate told Lottie. ‘But she doesn’t have much to do with the work, so you won’t see her very often,’ and Lottie gave a sigh of relief.

  While Josie took Lottie to see the room she would share with her, Kate told Mrs Molesworth about the matron. ‘You were right about the clothes,’ she said. ‘I wore my best outfit and I think it made her treat me with more respect. It certainly gave me more confidence to deal with her.’

  ‘Aye, you’re probably right, but I think you’re better able to stand up for yourself now anyway. You’ve got the missus under your thumb all right. All the help now.’

  ‘Not before time,’ Kate replied.

  Life was easier for everyone now. Lottie proved to be hard-working and willing. She was especially devoted to Josie, who treated her like a younger sister and did everything possible to help her in her new life. Dodie was an asset too, with a fund of stories from her days as a function waitress which kept all of them amused.

  Mrs Molesworth reverted to her normal hours and Kate was able to arrange the work so that the charwoman did scarcely any kneeling. ‘I didn’t mind doing the extra, like, to help out,’ she told Kate, ‘but I didn’t like leaving my feller for so long. Mind you, he met up with old mates when Billy took him out in the carridge so he wasn’t never really on his own, but he’s not as well as he was.’

  With all these new responsibilities and new people, Kate found it easier to close her mind to thoughts of Henry during the day, and at night she read romantic stories of olden days until she fell asleep. She was happy that everything was going smoothly in the guesthouse, and able to look forward to the imminent return of Rose.

  Chapter Eight

  Rose enjoyed the cruise in spite of her resentment at being made to leave school. She and Beattie had been on a shopping spree before they left and the cruise was a perfect opportunity to wear all the beautiful clothes provided by her aunt.

  Young and beautiful and fashionably dressed, Rose was admired by everyone on board, and Beattie basked in the glow of her niece’s success. Young men flocked round, the most persistent being a young man named Benjamin Reynolds. He was travelling with his mother, a rich widow like Beattie, and the two ladies soon became friends.

  They were alike in appearance, both plump with blurred features and a pink and white softness, but under their marshmallow exteriors lurked a steely determination to have their own way. They watched Ben and Rose outwardly approving, but both were determined that the affair would begin and end as a shipboard romance.

  As they sat together in deckchairs, well wrapped up, Mrs Reynolds said innocently to Beattie, ‘Your niece is a beautiful girl. Are her parents living?’

  ‘No, she
’s an orphan.’ Beattie sighed sentimentally. ‘I adopted her when my poor sister died after her husband had given his life for Queen and Country in the Boer War. Rose is entirely dependent on me.’

  ‘As Ben is on me,’ said Mrs Reynolds swiftly. ‘He is devoted to me and he means the world to me.’

  ‘I can see that,’ Beattie said. ‘A most admirable young man. You must be very proud of him.’

  ‘I am,’ said Mrs Reynolds. ‘I have two other sons, both married, but Ben was born after a gap of fourteen years. That’s why we named him Benjamin. I was only very young when my older boys were born, of course.’

  ‘Of course,’ echoed Beattie.

  ‘My sons married far too young. As I’ve told Ben, I think forty is soon enough for a man to wed,’ said Mrs Reynolds.

  ‘I do agree,’ murmured Beattie. ‘Of course, girls marry younger, but my Rose is very young. Only left school a few months ago. I enjoy her company and it’s nice to know she’ll be with me for a long time yet. She’s a dutiful niece and very fond of me, and of course she knows how much she owes me, although I was very happy to take her when my poor sister died so tragically.’

  Both ladies sighed, but both were satisfied, feeling that questions had been answered without having to be asked outright, and that they understood each other. They would each see that steps were taken to deal with the situation if Ben and Rose proved difficult.

  Ben would have been dismayed to hear his mother and Beattie. He was a slight, fair young man, quiet and diffident, but he had fallen in love with Rose and everything on board ship made romance easy. They sat at the same table for meals and partnered each other for deck tennis and other activities, or lay in deckchairs covertly holding hands.

  At night they walked around the deck arm in arm under a sky filled with stars, or stood clasped in each other’s arms as the moon rose, making a silvery path across the water. ‘“This is the stuff that dreams are made of”,’ quoted Ben, and was delighted to find that Rose also loved poetry and could quote at length from the sonnets of Shakespeare.