The Downstairs Maid

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘You’d best get off then,’ Mrs Hattersley said at the end of the week. ‘Take the basket I’ve prepared. There’s some calves foot jelly, which is good for weak chests. Your mother will know how to use it. I’m sending some of my special pickles and a joint of gammon for her to cook. It’s my way of saying thank you to Mrs Carter for letting me have her daughter.’

  Emily thanked her. Mrs Hattersley had been complimented on her new way of serving his lordship’s kippers, and this was Emily’s reward, ‘Ma will be pleased with the things you’ve sent. It wasn’t necessary but it’s good of you.’

  ‘Well, I’m allowed a few perks in my position and I like to share them. You’re not the only one to take home a few bits when you visit.’ She nodded and her three chins waggled with satisfaction. ‘Has Mrs Marsh paid you?’

  ‘Yes, she has. She told me she has decided to keep me on – and if I give good service my wage will go up to a pound a week soon.’

  ‘Have a good day then.’

  Emily shrugged on her coat and then picked up the basket. ‘I shan’t be late this evening. I’ll tell you what my mother says when I get back.’

  The sun was warm. Summer was really here now and it felt wonderful to have the day off and to be going home. She’d settled into the routine of the house and was enjoying her work, but it was still a good feeling to be free for once. She hummed a little tune as she walked across the fields, which were bright with wild flowers. On such a lovely day there was no need to waste money on bus fares; she could easily walk to her home.

  There were people in the village as she walked through, women standing outside houses with cream-washed walls, in their aprons, often with a long broom or a duster in their hands, giving the windows a polish to make them shine in the sun. Some of the houses were very old, long and low with thatched roofs and small windows. Two men in working clothes were driving a farm wagon, the horse’s coat gleaming with health, and its tail tied with red ribbons. She saw the milk cart ahead of her and waved, because she knew the man driving it. To her surprise, he halted his cart and beckoned to her.

  ‘Going home, Em?’

  ‘Yes, Bill. It’s my day off.’

  ‘Climb up then and I’ll take you a part of the way.’

  She thanked him and climbed on to the driving box beside him. It felt as if she were out with her father on his rounds again and she smiled at her benefactor. She wondered if he would ask lots of questions, but he merely nodded and kept his eyes on the road ahead, which was just as well because a motorcar was coming the other way and there was a loud pop as it passed them, causing the horse to shy. His milk churns rattled a little but he was in control and they were soon back to normal, plodding through the long High Street and out into the country lanes that would take Emily to her father’s smallholding. He dropped her at the end of the lane leading to her house, tipping his hat but saying nothing as she thanked him.

  As she approached the white-washed cottage that was her home, Emily began to think about her family. Was Derek still lurking about or had he stayed clear of the farm? She’d half expected her mother would write with news but no letters had come for her at the manor. A trickle of ice ran down her spine as she suddenly wondered if anything was wrong, and she ran the last few yards, bursting into the kitchen in sudden panic.

  Ma looked up from her baking and frowned. ‘Where’s the fire? Nothing wrong is there? Have you been let go?’

  ‘No. They are pleased with me.’

  ‘What made you come rushing in as if your tail was on fire?’

  ‘I wondered …’ Emily felt foolish. ‘You didn’t write. How are Pa – and the child? I’ve missed him – and all of you.’

  ‘Your brother has a name,’ her mother said sourly. ‘Why should I write and waste a stamp? I knew you would be home today. Your father was in the infirmary for a few days but he’s all right now. His cough keeps getting worse but he says the doctor hasn’t had the results of the test. I don’t know if he’s hiding something from me. He might tell you.’

  Emily unloaded her basket on the sideboard. ‘Mrs Hattersley sent these for you, Ma – and she was going to throw the fruit out, but the mice have only touched one corner.’

  ‘Why did she send us food? We might not be rich but we’re not a charity case.’

  ‘She didn’t mean it like that. It’s just a few perks.’

  ‘Well, I suppose I should thank her.’ Ma glared at her across the room. ‘Put the kettle on, girl. I don’t have time to run after you.’

  ‘Yes, Ma.’ Emily filled the kettle and placed it on the range. ‘Are you upset with me? What have I done?’

  ‘You know very well what you did.’ Ma’s mouth twisted with dislike. ‘Causing trouble between your father and Derek. Now my brother’s gone off without a word to me.’

  ‘Gone away?’

  ‘I went over to see him to ask for the truth and found them clearing out his house. He’d sold his stuff and given up the tenancy. That farm had been in our family for years. What did you do to make him go off like that?’

  ‘Pa must have told you what happened?’

  ‘He said Derek was assaulting you but I don’t believe it. My brother wouldn’t do that to his own sister’s girl. Your father must have misunderstood. Derek shouldn’t have hit him like that but if your father went for him you can see why he did it.’

  Emily clenched her hands. If she didn’t hold on to her temper she would say or do something unforgivable.

  ‘It wasn’t the first time. He tried a few weeks earlier and then …’ She gasped as her mother rushed at her, slapping her about the face and ears three times in quick succession. ‘It’s true, whatever you think. I didn’t tell you because he apologised and said it was a joke – but the second time he had me on the ground and would have had his way if Pa and then Harry Standen hadn’t arrived.’

  ‘You are an unkind, sly girl,’ Ma brushed tears from her cheeks. ‘I shall never believe he did something like that without provocation.’

  ‘I avoided him as much as I could but …’ Emily stopped as she saw her mother was truly upset. ‘I’m sorry. I know you’re fond of him. Would you like me to leave?’

  ‘Your father is looking forward to seeing you,’ Ma said and her expression hardened. ‘He’s told me he won’t have Derek here again.’

  ‘I am truly sorry, Ma.’ Emily took her wages from her pocket and placed the coins on the table. ‘I didn’t need to catch a bus so that’s all of it. I don’t need money at the house.’

  Her mother barely glanced at the money. She picked up a tray of little cakes and put them in the oven, shutting the door with a bang.

  ‘You will need some in future. Keep two shillings for yourself. The rest will help to pay the lad’s wages. Your father told me he always paid Derek for his work so it won’t make much difference.’

  ‘It will help Pa.’

  Ma cut a slice of her jam sponge and pushed it across the table towards Emily. ‘Sit down and I’ll make the tea. I dare say you work hard enough.’

  ‘The hours are long,’ Emily said, biting into the cake, ‘but I enjoy what I do.’

  ‘Your father isn’t happy about you being away from us all the time. He said to tell you that you could give in your notice if you’re miserable. I said it would do you good to have a taste of life away from here.’

  Emily caught the resentment in her mother’s tone. ‘I’ve always done my best, Ma. What is it that makes you take against me?’

  ‘Do you want the truth?’ Emily nodded and her mother turned away to pour boiling water into the large brown pot. ‘It was always you with your father after you were born. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, always saying how pretty you were, how much he loved you.’

  ‘He loves you too – all of us.’

  ‘You’re the light of his life. He told me that if he lost you he wouldn’t care if he lived or died.’

  Emily sipped her tea in silence. She had an ache in her chest but her throat felt tight and
she couldn’t think of anything to say. Her mother’s life had always been hard, because money was often tight, but this was something more – it struck deeper and made her realise how lonely and unhappy Ma must be. She realised that all the complaining over the years, all the finding fault with her father and the sullen looks might be down to the fact that Ma thought he loved his daughter more than her. It was sad and it hurt her, but no words of hers could ever heal the wounds her father had inflicted, whether he meant to or not.

  For a moment the silence stretched between them, and then her mother lifted her head and looked at her. ‘How is Miss Amy then? Everyone is talking about the way that man swindled all those investors and then threw her over.’

  ‘Sir Arthur lost money too. I think she’s all right but I don’t see much of her.’

  Ma looked up as the kitchen door opened. ‘Here’s your father come to see you. I’ll leave you two alone for a minute while I see to Jack.’

  Emily stood up and went to her father, who embraced her in a hug. She could smell the familiar scent of soap mixed with fresh sweat, his rough tweed jacket and a faint whiff of cow dung on his boots. It was a smell she remembered so well and it brought tears to her eyes as she realised how much she’d missed him. ‘How are you, Pa? Is your cough better? Ma said you were in the infirmary for a few days.’

  ‘I’m over it now, girl,’ Pa said and moved back, as if embarrassed by his show of affection.

  ‘Has the doctor told you the results of the tests?’

  ‘Your mother told you to ask, did she?’ He sighed and sat down at the table. ‘It’s not good, Em, but keep that to yourself. I’ve got signs of consumption. The doctor said I ought to go to the sea where the air is fresher, but I can’t spare the time or the money.’

  ‘My wages will help Pa. If there’s anything more I can do …’

  ‘I suppose we need the money – but I’d rather have you here, love. Christopher was asking after you yesterday.’

  ‘Has he been busy?’

  ‘The shop is ticking over. Without it there wouldn’t be a hope of my going away for treatment, but your mother can’t see that. She thinks I’m wasting my money on rubbish.’

  ‘Some of it looks like rubbish, Pa.’

  ‘I can’t deny that, love, but Christopher is a marvel. He’s polished a set of twelve mahogany dining chairs up a treat and mended a splat that was broken. I would have sold them for a pound each, but he managed to get eighteen pounds for them. At least, he’s taken a deposit of five pounds and the rest should be paid this week.’

  ‘That is a lot of money.’ Emily was shocked. ‘Did you know they were worth so much?’

  ‘None of us did until Sir Arthur popped into the shop. I’ve got to deliver them. He’s gone abroad but his bailiff will take them in for him and pay me the balance.’

  ‘Gone abroad – I suppose he’ll have gone to see what happened with his mine.’

  ‘He’ll be away for months then. He’s our best customer.’

  Emily’s mother returned to the kitchen then with Jack. He’d been crying but was now smiling and held out his arms to Emily. She took him on her lap, cuddling him to her. He smelled of baby powder and gurgled as she bounced him on her knee. It felt good to hold him again, because whoever his father was, he was her brother and she loved him. She kissed his cheek and began to feed him tiny pieces of cake from her plate.

  ‘How is my little love then?’ she asked in a soft voice. ‘I’ve missed you, Jack.’ She kissed the top of his head, noticing with a frown that his hair needed washing. Was her mother not taking proper care of him? He’d been as spotless as a new pin when she’d been here to care for him.

  ‘Jack needs a bath,’ she said, looking at her mother in accusation.

  ‘You do it then,’ Ma snapped. ‘I’ve got enough to do. Now you’re having a good time up at the manor, I’ve all the work to do here. I can’t be fussing over Jack all the time.’

  At the sound of his mother’s harsh voice, Jack whimpered. Emily stroked his face. ‘Of course I’ll give him a bath before I go,’ she said. ‘He’s no trouble at all, are you, my darling?’

  She shot a look at her mother but was ignored and felt a spurt of anger. If Ma was ignoring Jack because he was a little backward … but she wouldn’t. Emily was just imagining things because her pleasure in the visit had been spoiled by Ma’s attitude and she would be glad to get back to the manor, where she was appreciated.

  ‘Lady Prior is taking Miss Amy away to the sea for a few days,’ Mrs Hattersley said when Emily returned that evening. ‘I suppose she thinks she needs to get away for a while.’

  ‘I expect it will do her good.’

  Mrs Hattersley nodded, but didn’t say anything, just got on with preparing a tray. ‘Miss Amy wanted a light supper in her room. You can take it up for me.’

  ‘What about Mary?’

  ‘She’s off on an errand so she won’t know anything about it.’

  Emily accepted the tray and carried it up the back stairs. Mary was jealous of her place with Miss Amy, and if she thought Emily was currying favour with her she wouldn’t like it.

  When she knocked at the door Miss Amy asked her to come in. She looked a little surprised, then half-smiled. ‘Emily Carter. Are you settling in well?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, miss.’

  ‘Leave the tray there.’

  Emily did as she was told, but as she walked to the door, Miss Amy spoke to her again. ‘Would you take a note for me please?’

  ‘Yes, miss, of course.’

  Amy picked up the letter. ‘It’s for Sir Arthur. I don’t want anyone to see it.’

  Emily hesitated, then, ‘I think he’s gone abroad, miss – at least they were saying so in the village, Pa told me …’

  Amy frowned, and then took the letter back. ‘I’d hoped he might write to me. Very well, you may go.’

  ‘I’m sorry, miss.’

  ‘I don’t need your pity.’

  Emily heard the resentment in her voice and left. Miss Amy’s temper hadn’t improved. She was glad Mary was her maid and not her.

  As she left the room and walked down the landing, she met Miss Lizzie. The girl smiled at her and stopped.

  ‘Miss Carter. How are you getting on here?’

  ‘Very well, miss. I like my job.’

  ‘I’m so pleased,’ Miss Lizzie said. ‘Did you take a tray into Amy? Granny is taking us away because she is so unhappy but I don’t think it will help.’

  ‘No, miss. I don’t suppose it will.’

  ‘It was so unfair on her – him too. It wasn’t Sir Arthur’s fault that the government took those leases back. He believed they had been renewed in time – and it’s my opinion he’s been cheated out of his mine.’

  ‘I’m very sorry to hear that, Miss Lizzie.’

  ‘Yes, it has spoiled everything.’

  Emily agreed and Miss Lizzie walked on. Emily was thoughtful as she returned to the kitchen. Miss Lizzie had been very upset, as much for Sir Arthur as anyone, which if he’d been cheated out of his mine was understandable. Emily thought she was a pleasant girl, more thoughtful and kinder than her sister.

  Chapter 19

  ‘Mrs Marsh says the family will be home tomorrow,’ Mrs Hattersley said that morning in July. ‘Miss Amy is feeling much better. She will be able to help with the fete as usual and that is at the end of the week, as you know.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Emily agreed. Since Lady Prior had informed them that this year the event would take place in early August, Mrs Hattersley had talked about the refreshments needed and the cakes she intended to bake for the stall that sold all manner of sweet treats. Emily had been honoured by being allowed to make some of the smaller fancies. She told Cook that she looking forward to watching her make the rum truffles and butterscotch fudge.

  ‘We’ll make them together. You’ve been here long enough now and I know I can trust you.’

  Emily felt pleased that her efforts had been appreciated, because s
he’d worked hard to please. She was allowed one evening off every two weeks and she’d written to Christopher, telling him to come over and see her, if he could manage it. He’d come on the appointed evening, and they’d gone for a walk to the village, where he’d bought her a lemonade in the Golden Hen.

  Emily had seen how tired and ill Josh Bracknell looked and couldn’t help thinking about the way he’d lost his daughter so tragically. Who could have murdered a young girl like that and left her lying in a field? It was a wicked, callous act and Emily dare not put a name to her suspicions. She didn’t like Derek but he wouldn’t do something like that, of course he wouldn’t. Up at the manor, Mrs Hattersley still spoke about Carla often, because everyone wondered what had happened to the murderer. The police were no closer to finding him and all the maids had been warned not to speak to strangers if they went into the village.

  Christopher had seemed very serious that evening when he came, and Emily asked what was wrong.

  ‘Did you hear about that foreign archduke?’ he’d asked her and she nodded. ‘It was in all the papers when he was assassinated back in June. It’s going to mean war Emily and this country will be dragged into it. I don’t see how we can avoid it.’

  ‘You wouldn’t join up?’ She looked at him in alarm. ‘Christopher, you wouldn’t?’

  ‘I’ll have to. It’s my duty.’

  ‘What will happen to the shop if you go? Pa couldn’t manage it without you.’

  ‘I know – but I’ll have to go once it starts. I’m going to tell your father this week when he comes.’

  ‘He will be disappointed.’

  ‘I couldn’t stay safe at home while others were fighting for king and country.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose you could,’ Emily said, shivering as the horror of it came home to her. ‘I shall miss you, even if I don’t often see you.’

  ‘I’ll miss seeing you too,’ he said and hesitated. ‘Will you come out with me next time you have an afternoon off?’

  ‘It won’t be for three weeks.’

  ‘We’ll make it a date then. I’ll close the shop for an afternoon, leave a note in the window and work a bit later at night to make up for it.’ He gave her an oddly shy look. ‘Are you sure you want to come?’