by Lyn Andrews
She was about to reply when Molly stirred and sat up. ‘Is that the time already and me still in me bed?’
‘I’m off,’ Davy growled and slammed out.
‘What ails him this morning?’ Molly grumbled. ‘I declare he gets more humoursome by the day and now he’s woken the childer.’
‘Well, it’s time they were up. I’ve plenty to do today and I want to talk to them before they go to school. I’ll try to explain to Lizzie later on, when I’ve a bit more time to spend with her. Will I call Rita?’
‘You will so. I’ll put on the kettle.’
Katie and Tommy had listened in silence when Mary had told them about the new life that awaited them, but Katie was still confused.
‘I just don’t see why we have to go?’ she complained to Tommy as they trudged to school with their cousins.
‘Because she’s going to earn great money and we’ll all live in a huge big house with hundreds of rooms and a river and a canal outside the door. I can learn to fish and do jobs and all kinds of interesting things.’ Tommy as usual was enthusiastic about anything that seemed new and exciting.
‘And what can Lizzie and me do?’
‘Help Mam. Go to school, make new friends. And there’re all the fields and woods and other places to play in. Don’t be such a misery, Katie. It’ll be great!’
‘It doesn’t sound great. I like it here. There’s plenty to do and see here.’
‘Don’t you want to be rich? Mam says we’ll be able to have all the things we’ve never had before.’
‘Like what? Toys? Nice dresses?’
‘I suppose so. We might even get bicycles.’ It was Tommy’s dream to have a bicycle of his own. He’d whiz along the roads at a great speed. It would be fun and a lot easier and quicker than having to walk everywhere. ‘Mam says they’ve a pony and trap and a horse and cart for the heavy things!’ That in his eyes set them apart from everyone he knew.
‘I’d sooner stay here and be rich and be able to go to school on the tram and have nice dresses and dolls.’
‘You’re so stupid, Katie! We won’t be rich if we stay here! No one’s going to give Mam all that money for working in the flour mill. She’s to be a housekeeper and that’s a very big and important job.’
‘Will we be able to come and see you in this grand house and play with all your toys and ride your bicycle?’ Brendan asked. It all sounded like a great stroke of luck to him, his cousin Mary landing this job in the country.
‘I suppose so, though you’d better not mention the bicycle to Mam just yet,’ Tommy replied cautiously, kicking a stone along the gutter heedless of the damage to the toes of his boots.
Katie still looked unconvinced and little Lizzie was of course utterly confused, although both Mary and her sister had tried so hard to explain what was going to happen. However, Katie had accepted it a little more by the time Friday came after a week of preparations. Mary had borrowed the money from Molly, Rita and even Davy to rig herself and the children out with what she considered ‘suitable’ clothes for life in the country. It would all be paid back when she received her first month’s salary. She had also bought herself some heavy unbleached calico working aprons, and two white cotton aprons with frilled edges and two frilled white cotton caps to be worn when she wasn’t doing heavy housework. Mrs Maguire from next door had been in service when young and had advised her that that was the correct form of dress for a housekeeper. That and a black fine wool dress with a belt from which to hang all the keys she would be expected to carry with her at all times. Mrs Maguire had gone on to explain the duties of a housekeeper, which Mary had found very helpful if a little daunting.
‘But it’s not really a very grand household. There’s no butler or menservants or kitchen maids or parlour maids. Just Cook, me, a handyman and a girl to help out a bit at times,’ she’d demurred apprehensively.
‘But ’tis still a good thing to know about such things, Mary. He’ll think more highly of you and respect you for it,’ the woman had replied and Mary had left still wondering about the correct way to serve afternoon tea and lay a dinner table.
Only Molly went to see her off on Friday. Both Rita and Davy were at work and the children were at school. She had said her goodbyes to them earlier that morning and had promised that she would be at the station to meet them when Molly put them on the train in the care of the guard the following Friday.
‘Ye will write and tell me how ye’re getting on, Mary?’ Molly urged, still worried how her niece would cope with such a drastic change of lifestyle.
‘Of course I will and don’t worry about the money, I’ll send everything I owe as soon as I get paid.’
‘Don’t I know that, ye’re a good girl and I’ll miss ye. Now ye’d best get on the train or ye’ll not get a seat. Sure, I never realised so many people travelled the country.’
Mary hugged her and hoisted her two carpet bags, which contained all her possessions and many of the children’s, into the carriage.
During the journey she went over things in her mind. First she would unpack. Then she would get changed, find young Bridie and set her to work, give her own rooms a good clean and make up the bed. Then she would lay the table in the small dining room and serve Mr O’Neill his dinner. After that she would help Mrs Moran clear up the kitchen, set the table for breakfast and make a list of the rooms to be cleaned in order of priority. She’d have to make sure that Bridie was under no illusions about what work she was expected to do. She’d also have a word with Sonny about the state of the yard. She had no intention of scrubbing out the hall and beating and cleaning the rugs only to have it all undone by the muck and mud that would be traipsed in on everyone’s feet. A week of sheer relentless hard work by herself and Bridie should have the house in a state fit for a gentleman to live in. After that it wouldn’t be too hard to keep it spick and span. In what spare time she had she would mend curtains and linen. She intended to make the most of the opportunity that had been given her really to come up in the world and provide a secure and comfortable life for her children, despite Frank’s rejection of them.
True to his word Sonny was waiting at the station with the trap. He greeted her warmly and flung her two bags in effortlessly; she realised that he wasn’t nearly as old or frail as he looked.
‘What have you in them at all?’ he enquired, helping her up.
‘Everything I own. I’ve come to stay,’ she replied determinedly.
‘That’s what the one before last said but I hope you do. I’ve taken to you, Mary, and so has Julia. Mrs Moran,’ he corrected himself, noticing her raised eyebrows.
Their progress was noted with some interest from the houses and cottages they passed after they turned off the main road.
‘Ah, they’re all wondering about you and how long you’ll stay,’ Sonny commented as he saluted the neighbours.
‘Why does no one stay? What’s the matter with Mr O’Neill?’
‘He’s not the easiest to get along with and they don’t like being so isolated. He doesn’t like company. In fact he forbids it. And then there’re his political views . . .’
‘Well, I’m not in the least bit interested in politics. Life’s hard enough without worrying about things like that and I certainly won’t have time to be chatting and gossiping and entertaining. There’s far too much to do. That house is in a terrible state of neglect. Would you ask Bridie to come and see me, please? Say at two o’clock?’
‘Hasn’t she gone into Tullamore.’
‘And who told her she could go off into town today? She knew I was arriving.’
‘Himself sent her.’
‘I see. Well, as soon as she gets back ask her to come and see me. We have a lot of work to get through before my children arrive next week.’
‘I hope she’ll be able for it. She’s only used to looking after myself.’
‘Oh, she’ll be able for it. I’ll make certain of that. She’s young and healthy, isn’t she?’
‘She is t
hat but you have to mind the way you ask her to do things. She’s inclined to be humoursome.’
‘Really?’ Mary replied, thinking that she’d soon change that. She was standing no nonsense from a moody young girl like that and she would have no insolence either.
There was tea, soda bread, home-cured ham and chutney waiting for her when she finally arrived.
‘Oh, this is very kind of you, Mrs Moran, to have gone to so much trouble.’
‘’Tis nothing, Mary. Didn’t I have to put a meal on the table for Mr O’Neill? Sonny, sit yourself down and have a bite with us. Did you put all those things in the outhouse like I asked?’
‘I did so and there’s enough soap and bleach and scrubbing brushes and the like to clean every house in the Parish. I nearly cleaned Jack Hickey out of all his stock.’
‘I’ll need it all,’ Mary said, smiling. ‘You won’t recognise this place when I’ve finished with it.’
‘That’ll make a change,’ Mrs Moran commented drily as she poured the tea.
She’d unpacked, changed into her working clothes and given her sitting room and one of the bedrooms a good clean before Bridie appeared at the door.
‘You’re back then,’ Mary said, wiping her hands on her apron.
The girl looked at her sullenly and then her gaze went over the freshly cleaned room. She didn’t answer.
Mary noticed that she looked tidier and cleaner than she’d been the first time she’d seen her, and she wore stockings and boots.
‘Come in and sit down while I go over this list of things I want you to do to help me. This house is in a shocking state, it’s not fit for a decent man to live in. We’ve both got a great deal of hard work ahead of us, Bridie.’ Seeing the expression on the girl’s face she continued, ‘I don’t expect you to do it all. I’ll work just as hard. I’m not above getting down on my knees and scrubbing or dragging carpets and rugs out and beating them.’
‘Well, ’tis more than the others would do,’ the girl replied. Mary seemed fair but just how much hard work did she expect her to do? No smooth-talking English-woman was going to get round her that easily. All the others had treated her like a skivvy and maybe Mary wasn’t all that different, despite what she said.
‘There is no task that I will ask you to do that I will not do myself. I’m strict but I hope I’m fair and if we’re to get along well together I expect you to pull your weight. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ came the muttered reply.
‘I don’t expect you to neglect your father and once the place is clean I will only need your help a few days a week. I presume Mr O’Neill pays you?’
‘He does so, ma’am, and we live rent free.’
‘Then he is a good employer. Now, this won’t take long and then we’ll both make a start in the main house.’
By the time Mrs Moran came to inform them that she was about to start dinner they had the small dining room fairly clean. The floor had been scrubbed, the rugs beaten, the furniture polished, the windows cleaned and the few items of silver glowed in the light of the oil lamps. Sonny had come in and lit the fire in the hearth and filled the turf basket.
‘Doesn’t it look grand already,’ he’d commented with admiration.
‘Give me a few minutes to get washed and changed and I’ll set the table, Mrs Moran, then I’ll be out to help you,’ Mary said cheerfully. ‘Bridie, I think you’ve done enough for one day. Will you come in at eight o’clock in the morning? We’ll have a full day ahead of us.’
Bridie wiped her hands on her apron. ‘I will, ma’am,’ she replied grudgingly. She had to admit the place did look better, and Mary had certainly pulled her weight. But did she intend to keep this up or was it just to show a bit of willing? Well, she’d see what tomorrow would bring.
An hour later Mary in her black dress covered with the white frilled apron and with the cap over her neatly dressed hair, carried the tray into the dining room.
‘Good evening, sir,’ she greeted her employer cheerfully.
Richard O’Neill automatically stood up. His mind had been on other matters. He’d been reflecting on the meeting he’d had that afternoon with Peter Casey, a local man, which had left him with a great deal to think about and some important decisions to make.
He knew she had arrived and when he’d walked into the room, despite his preoccupations, he’d been aware of the changes she’d made. But he was surprised by her appearance. She looked as if she’d been in service in a big house all her life. He’d never expected her to look like this.
‘Good evening, Mrs McGann. You look very well. Have you settled in?’
‘Thank you, sir. I have indeed. If you will be seated I’ll serve the soup, unless you would prefer to serve yourself?’
‘Usually I do but tonight you may serve.’
She did so expertly although inwardly she was very nervous.
‘I thought you said you had no experience, Mrs McGann?’
‘I haven’t but I learn very quickly.’ She set a small dish of bread rolls on the table and moved the claret jug to within his reach. ‘If you would ring when you’ve finished, sir, I’ll clear your dishes. Mrs Moran said to inform you that it’s roast mutton with parsnips and carrots and potatoes.’
‘Thank you, Mrs McGann.’ He watched her as she left the room. Had he at last found someone who would suit him? He hoped so. He was sick and tired of living in a badly run house, but he knew he was not easy to work for. He wondered how she would cope with the strict code of work and isolation he insisted upon. Mrs Moran, Sonny and young Bridie knew him well and he trusted them. But could he trust her? Only time would tell.
She was a very beautiful young woman, he mused, and he wondered just why she and her husband had failed to get on to such an extent that she had left Liverpool and travelled so far with her family. Still, it was no concern of his. As long as she did her job, asked no questions, did not mix with the local people and kept her children under control it didn’t matter about her background or her personal life.
Chapter Fourteen
FOR THE NEXT WEEK Mary worked non-stop. She missed the children terribly: they’d never been parted before, not even for a night. But the heavy housework took her mind off her worries about them. Despite the bitter cold, she was up before six o’clock on her first morning and had the fire in the kitchen range burning brightly and the kettle boiling before Mrs Moran appeared.
‘Aren’t you the early riser, Mary, and isn’t it grand to come into a warm and tidy kitchen. It makes a change, I can tell you. I’m not as young as I used to be and the damp in this place would chill you to the bones,’ she said.
By twenty past eight there was still no sign of Bridie and Mary was about to go and look for her when the girl sidled into the kitchen.
‘Bridie, I particularly asked you to be here by eight o’clock so we could make an early start.’
‘Me da wanted his breakfast,’ Bridie muttered.
Mary sighed. ‘Then why didn’t you tell me that yesterday? Of course you had to see to him first.’
The girl shrugged and darted a look at Mrs Moran.
Mary decided not to press the matter too hard this morning. ‘Well, tomorrow morning we’ll make it half past eight. Does that suit?’
Bridie nodded reluctantly.
After they had all had their breakfast and Mary had washed up, she put Bridie to help Mrs Moran while she set the table for Mr O’Neill and duly served his breakfast. Then she changed and set to work on the hall. She was on her hands and knees scrubbing the flags, after having thrown all the rugs into a heap on the doorstep, when Sonny came in with the turf baskets.
She sat back on her heels and glared at him. ‘Sonny, do you think you could bring those in the back way and not be traipsing the muck and mud of the yard in on my clean floor? And you’re leaving a trail of turf dust behind you.’
He set down the baskets. ‘Sure, I always bring them in this way, it’s quicker.’
‘Well, from now
on bring them in the back way. It’s no wonder those expensive rugs are destroyed altogether and while I think on it, do you think you could do something to clean up that yard? It’s not fitting for a gentleman to have the entrance to his home like a stableyard and a not very clean one at that.’
He looked at her with astonishment. ‘Himself has never complained about it before!’
‘Then he should have. It’s a disgrace.’
‘Begod, Mrs McGann, you have some strange ways of going on.’
She smiled at him. ‘I know. We’re strange people in Liverpool. If it’s any consolation, I won’t be allowing my children to use the front door either.’
‘And will I tell Bridie to come in the back way, too?’
‘I’d be grateful if you would and she’ll see the sense in it if she’s to get down on her knees and scrub this floor once a week.’
After that everyone, except Richard O’Neill, used the back door and the yard had been tidied up considerably.
Bridie arrived on time the following morning and Mary greeted her pleasantly. Between them they gave every room a thorough clean: dragging furniture into the centre of the room; taking down pictures and curtains; cleaning and polishing oil lamps, fenders, ashpans and fire-irons. Windows were cleaned, rugs taken out and given a good beating, bedding washed or aired. Because Mary did indeed work as hard as Bridie herself and wasn’t overly domineering or demanding the girl began to feel a grudging respect for the older woman. Maybe things wouldn’t be too bad at all. For the first time in many months fires were lit in every room that had a fireplace.
‘Himself won’t like it. It’s a desperate waste of turf,’ Sonny complained.
‘I’m not saying light them all every day, that would be a waste. Just now and then to keep a bit of heat in the place and some of the damp at bay. It’s as cold as charity in those upstairs rooms. Surely he can’t complain about that?’ she replied.
Of an evening, although she was bone weary, she sat in the kitchen with Mrs Moran and occasionally Sonny and Bridie, and attacked the mound of mending and darning. Some of the curtains and bedspreads, although originally of good quality, were so old and had been so neglected that they were almost beyond repair but she refrained from saying anything for fear she would be accused of even more extravagance.