Hidden Currents

by Rowena Summers

  ‘What affliction do you have, for pity’s sake?’ she said in a fright.

  He said nothing, and then he took her hand and placed it firmly over his breeches. As she felt the rock hardness there, she flinched as if she’d been stung before she snatched her hand away.

  ‘You see, sweetheart?’ he said in amusement. ‘Your innocence is the best protection of all. One frightened look from those damnably expressive eyes of yours, and I shall dwindle fast enough.’

  Carrie felt the fiery colour filling her cheeks again.

  ‘Am I such a disappointment to you, then? Is that why you haven’t been calling on me so often recently?’

  She felt a genuine distress. Girls like Elsie were the clever ones after all, she thought miserably. They knew how to interest a man, and how to keep him interested, while she was as naive as the day she was born.

  ‘You could never disappoint me,’ he said, but she knew the mood between them had already changed, and that he must be remembering again the way they had almost come to blows once before. It was an ironic thought, because fighting was the thing that had caused them to spark against one another then.

  She sat up, brushing the grass and bracken out of her hair. She looked down at her hands, lacing her fingers together, and took a deep breath.

  ‘I wanted to see you for a special reason today,’ she said, remembering her purpose in seeking him out.

  ‘Oh? And what was that?’ he said, not looking at her now, but preferring to watch the stately progress of a sailing boat move up the river.

  ‘I’ve been offered a living-in job with Miss Helen Barclay of Clifton, instead of being an — an outworker.’

  Not for the world could she say a washerwoman.

  ‘I see,’ John said. ‘And are you going to take it?’

  For a moment she stared at him stupidly, and then resentment took hold of her. Did he think such opportunities came along every day, when the Stuckeys needed every penny they could scratch? Such desperate straits had clearly never affected him. Even his working clobber was tidier than anything her Pa wore, and she’d been a fool not to see it before now. He said he wanted her, but not enough to ravish her, apparently.

  And Carrie, who had never even let such a word into her thoughts before, now felt unreasonably insulted because John Travis hadn’t wanted her enough to continue what he had begun. He’d left her restless and wanting …

  ‘Of course I’m bloody well taking it,’ she snapped, and bit her lip at letting herself down so swiftly.

  ‘I only asked,’ John snapped back. ‘It means I’m unlikely to see much of you at all from now on then.’

  ‘That hasn’t seemed to bother you much recently.’

  ‘I’ve wanted to see you far more often, but I’ve been working my guts out to save up for my new boat.’

  ‘Oh yes. By fighting every Tom, Dick and Harry who’ll put a wager on you, I suppose?’

  The accusation spilled out of her before she could stop it, and as she saw how angry it made him, she felt a shiver of fear. He was a big man, used to fighting his way out of trouble, presumably, and ready to take on the best of the travelling bare-knuckle fighters to earn his keep. What chance would she have against him if he turned rough?

  Even as the thought shot into her mind, Carrie didn’t believe it would happen. For all his disreputable sideline, she knew he was still a gentleman.

  ‘You don’t think too highly of me, do you, Carrie?’ he said finally.

  ‘It’s not you — it’s what you do,’ she muttered.

  As he stood up, he put out his hand and pulled her to her feet. She might have expected him to pull her into his arms, and for this tête-à-tête to have ended as romantically as it had begun, but he let go of her at once.

  ‘Someday I may tell you the reason for the need to prove myself, but it can wait until you’ve grown up a bit more,’ he said.

  Her cheeks burned. It was one thing to call her an innocent in the loving way he’d done previously, but this last remark was a bigger insult to her self-esteem.

  In silence, they began the walk back through Leigh Woods to where the boat was tied up, and he helped her into it carefully. She was consumed with misery. Not only was she leaving all that was dear and familiar to her tomorrow, but it seemed certain that now she’d lost John as well.

  But she drew a tiny hope for the future from the fact that he’d said someday he might tell her why he had begun bare-knuckle fighting. Surely that meant he intended seeing her again … it wasn’t her place to suggest it, but her pride was so badly dented by now, that a little more humility hardly seemed worth bothering about.

  ‘I shall be allowed some time off, John. I don’t know any details yet, but if I let Ma know, perhaps you could call there sometime and then we can arrange to see one another.’ Her voice trailed away. ‘If you want to, that is.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s what you want?’

  At such an evasive answer, she wondered briefly if she should act up like Elsie, toss her head in the air, and tell him he could please himself or piss off. But she wasn’t Elsie, and this was too important to her.

  ‘I’m sure,’ she whispered.

  ‘And so am I,’ he said.

  * * *

  The following morning, Carrie had her belongings packed, and made her farewells to Ma and Frank and Billy. The others were still sleeping, and she decided it was best to leave quietly without any fuss.

  ‘When I know about my duties, I’ll get back to see you as soon as I can, Ma,’ she said, almost in desperation, and feeling like a rat deserting a sinking ship. ‘And our Billy knows he can call and see me whenever he comes up to Clifton to the other houses.’

  ‘I shan’t go there no more,’ Billy said stubbornly. ‘I don’t like you no more.’

  ‘Well, I still like you,’ Carrie said evenly. ‘And Cook still likes you, and she’ll want you to call in for Ma’s basket every few days in any case.’

  She saw him wrestling with his pride, and then he flung himself into her arms for a kiss. He still smelled of sleep, and she hugged him tightly, reluctant to let him go.

  Frank kissed her too, which was a rarity, but this was a real good-bye for him, as he intended signing onto a ship that very day. Pa was totally ignoring him now, and Frank said there was no point in letting the grass grow beneath his feet, or more accurately, letting the tide go out without him.

  Wilf had given his approval of his brother’s plans, but by now, they all knew that Frank had a mind of his own, and it would have made no difference what anybody else said.

  Carrie gave Ma a hug, being careful not to press on Ma’s belly. She wasn’t having an easy time, with the babby lying awkwardly on her side, and sending the bile welling up in her when she least expected it.

  ‘I’ll see you very soon, Ma,’ she whispered.

  ‘Just you do all that Miss Barclay wants of you, and mind your manners,’ Ma said briskly.

  There was nothing left to say or do, so Carrie slipped out of the house before she couldn’t leave after all, before she betrayed the fact that she felt she was apprehensive of the changes this new life was going to bring, and was beginning to wish she’d never even heard of Miss Helen Barclay.

  And then she stood upright and told herself angrily not to be such a milksop. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, and there were plenty of girls who’d give their souls to be living in a mansion like the Barclays’.

  * * *

  She hadn’t expected to be summoned to the drawing-room at ten o’clock precisely. By then, she was wearing a plain brown dress with a neat white collar and oversleeves to keep her clean and tidy, and a lacy white apron and cap. Jackson, the butler, told her quickly to remove her oversleeves before presenting herself, and she felt all fingers and thumbs as she knocked on the drawing-room door and was told to enter.

  She wished Miss Helen had been there to smooth over these moments. But Miss Helen was still in bed, having smiled vaguely as Carrie took her breakfast tray
up to her as her first duty. Carrie had wistfully compared the young lady’s beautifully spacious bedroom with the poky, uncarpeted attic room Carrie was to share with two others. It was only right and proper, but it certainly put her in her place as she had quickly unpacked her belongings and stuffed her bags on top of the narrow closet allotted to her.

  And now here she was, fidgeting awkwardly, as she faced her new master and mistress for the first time. It dawned on her that Mr Barclay was looking anything but pleased, even though the lady of the house gave her a slight, encouraging smile.

  ‘Don’t you know enough to give a bob in front of your betters, girl?’ Giles Barclay said testily.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir. I ain’t — haven’t — been in service before,’ Carrie said, painfully remembering the correct term. She bobbed awkwardly, and was so nervous that she nearly fell over in the process.

  Giles Barclay sighed heavily. The previous day’s events had left a sour taste in his mouth, to say nothing of his wife’s hysterics the minute he’d arrived home to find a constable in attendance. The sooner he could get back to the comparative calm of his business premises today, the better he was going to be pleased.

  ‘After the rumpus with the last servant, I’d have thought my daughter had more sense than to employ someone straight off the street,’ he said. ‘But I’m told you’re a good outside laundress and have proved to be trustworthy. I hope we may count on that situation inside the house as well as out of it, miss.’

  Carrie opened her mouth to speak indignantly, and then caught the smallest shake of Mrs Barclay’s head, and clamped her mouth closed again. She nodded silently instead.

  ‘Don’t you have a tongue in your head?’ Giles said, more kindly now.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Carrie said, not sure just what she was supposed to say. ‘I shall do my very best to suit Miss Helen. Will that do for you — sir?’

  To her surprise his face relaxed, and he gave a short laugh.

  ‘’Pon my word, but I don’t know whether to take that as insolence or not, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Now then, Jackson will give you details of your wages, and your time off will be at my daughter’s discretion. You’ll be directly answerable to her — as long as things go smoothly. When they don’t, I shall see you in my study.’

  From the way his voice sharpened, Carrie was in no doubt that a visit to his study meant a very strong reprimand. She murmured her understanding, and was dismissed.

  She stood outside the drawing-room door, thinking him a real tartar, and still not knowing what he meant by all the rumpus of yesterday. It wasn’t until she was called to Miss Helen’s room again, that she ventured to ask.

  ‘I don’t see why you shouldn’t know. In fact, it’s best that all the servants know, so that they’re in no doubt of the consequences, if and when the thief is caught.’

  Carrie gasped. It was obvious that something very serious had taken place, and her eyes widened as Helen proceeded to tell her.

  ‘I believe I can trust you, Carrie, which is why I offered you this job,’ she said. ‘You’ve always taken great care of my clothes, and I think you’ll continue to do so.’

  ‘Of course I will, Miss Helen!’

  She prayed that no tell-tale flush was going to betray the few times she’d tried on some of those beautiful garments in her room at home, and imagined that she was a lady.

  Helen smiled at her. ‘And how is your mother?’ she said, in the way a young lady graciously enquired after a servant’s relative.

  ‘Poorly, miss. I worry about her, though she insists she’s as strong as an ox, but ’tis eight years since she had our Billy, and she’s not a young woman no more.’

  ‘My goodness, I didn’t want her complete medical history, you goose,’ Helen interrupted. ‘But I daresay you’d like to know when you may have time off to visit her?’

  ‘Yes please, miss,’ Carrie said, chastened. She was away from home, and tied to an employer for the first time in her life, and she was only just realising the restrictions it put on her. It depended on Helen Barclay’s say-so whether she could go out of doors, or blow her nose, or wipe her backside, as Elsie would say.

  ‘Do you have a young man?’ Helen said, as if she had instantly forgotten the importance of Carrie’s time off. ‘There was a good-looking fellow with you on the day of the Downs fair, I recall. Is he your beau, Carrie?’

  ‘Sort of,’ Carrie said, and now the blush was definitely staining her face. She felt it right down in her neck, and she heard Helen laugh.

  ‘You don’t have to be so coy about it! I only ask because I daresay you’ll be wanting to see him sometimes as well, won’t you?’

  ‘Well — yes!’ she stammered.

  ‘Then you may have an hour off every afternoon between three and four o’clock, and you may take two hours in the evenings while the family is at dinner, unless we go out for dinner, and I especially require you. You will be on duty at all other times, either helping me personally, or attending to my laundry as before, or accompanying me into the city for calling. Is that quite clear?’

  ‘Yes — thank you, Miss Helen.’

  ‘Good. I suggest you write it all down — that is, if you’re able to write,’ she said, pausing. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think to ask.’

  ‘I can read and write very well,’ she said with some pride. ‘Even our Billy can do so, and he’s —’

  ‘I know. He’s only eight,’ Helen said with a smile. ‘Well, I think that’s all for now, so I suggest you find the laundry room and get on with your duties.’

  Carrie hesitated at the door. ‘Does that mean I can have an hour off this very afternoon, Miss?’

  ‘Of course.’ Helen was already becoming bored with all the trivial explanations.

  It was better than Carrie had expected. A whole hour off this very afternoon! Ma would be surprised to see her back already, and it would be as if she’d hardly gone away!

  Carrie hurried down the back stairs to the kitchen, and found her way, to the laundry room, where the usual pile of Helen Barclay’s soiled clothes awaited her. The room was warm and thick with steam, and there were several stone sinks, buckets and bowls awaiting the wash load. The copper was already humming as the water came to the boil with its addition of softening soap.

  There was a heavy sacking apron hanging behind the door, and Carrie pushed up her sleeves and tied the apron around her. She felt a sudden lift to her spirits. This was familiar territory, and it never even dawned on her that in effect she was right back where she started.

  Chapter 10

  Wilf could stand the inactivity no longer. His brother had gone to sea, and his sister had quickly settled into her new life in Clifton, even though it seemed that she was back home nearly as much as she was away. But it eased his anxiety over Ma, who was looking more pinched as the weeks went on. She insisted on carrying on with her wash-days for her other regulars, saying that nothing as normal as an expectant babby had ever interfered with her energy before now, and she didn’t see why this one should be any different. And Billy still staggered up and down the steep hill with the loads, nearly smothered beneath the piled up cart.

  Pa still ranted on about not taking on any work but what he was skilled at, and that was as a craftsman carpenter. It was futile, for word had now got about that he was drinking heavily, and his hands were so unsteady, he’d as likely carve through his fingers as look at them. He brought no money into the house except for the occasional odd job he did, one of which was to fashion coffins for the poor at a cut-price rate.

  ‘The poor dabs can’t afford to pay me much more’n the price of the wood, and that’ll do me,’ he’d growled when Wilf had remonstrated with him. ‘’Tis little enough a man can do for his fellows, so let me be.’

  So Wilf had let him be, and confided in his lady-love that unless something happened to improve their lot soon, they’d be facing a bleak winter. Nora sympathised, but her sympathy was tinged by guilt, knowing it was her own father w
ho’d put the Stuckeys out of work and put the word about that they were an unstable family.

  ‘What will you do, Wilf?’ she asked him, when they were ensconced in a tea-room one afternoon, well away from the docks area where her father had his warehouse and yard.

  ‘I’m going after a railway navvy’s job,’ he said steadily.

  She gasped. Such menial work would hardly raise Wilf’s status in her father’s eyes. She smothered the quick burst of snobbery and tried to look interested, when in truth she was extremely shaken.

  ‘Is that what you want?’ she asked, trying to keep any intonation out of her voice. It was all too easy for Wilf to seize on any suggestion of censure these days. He was as brittle as glass, the way she guessed were all the rest of the Stuckey family in these hard times.

  Out of consideration to what he saw as Nora’s more refined upbringing, Wilf rarely mentioned his mother’s condition. But by now she knew how deeply he resented his father for giving her another child when things were so bad. Though how it could have been prevented, short of abstaining from the natural and normal in marriage, Nora didn’t know, and was too inhibited to enquire.

  ‘No, it’s not what I want,’ Wilf said in a low, savage voice. ‘But I see no other option if we’re to keep our heads above water.’

  ‘But where will you be working? You won’t be going away, will you, Wilf?’ she said in sudden alarm.

  His stormy eyes softened as he looked across the tea-room table at his girl.

  ‘I hope not. I intend to apply at Temple Meads station and sign on for any work that’s offered. The lines are constantly needing attention already. Some reckon they was put together so fast that the ground beneath ’em was never properly stabilised. Any sign of sinking could be a disaster.’

  He saw Nora shiver, envisaging one of the great snorting steam trains from London swerving off a sinking track, and spilling out its load of screaming passengers. He wished he’d never mentioned such a thing, especially when Nora took up the fancying.