‘And when are you going to tell Ma she’s to pack her bags and move out? You can’t keep putting it off for ever.’
He sighed. ‘I know. Let’s all have a happy Christmas first, though, eh? I don’t want anything to spoil that. If your mother thinks Mr Gallagher’s going to carry on living over the stables, that’s fine by me. She doesn’t need to know any different for the moment.’
I think it was at the back of everyone’s mind that this might be the last Christmas we would spend together as a family, with Tom going to the Front soon afterwards. Ivy had a week off from the number 19 omnibus so she’d be coming down from London, and Hannah had been given the Christmas Day afternoon as a holiday. She was very busy because Mrs Vye had just had her baby: another little girl. ‘Mr Vye’s hoping for a few days’ leave to come and see her,’ Hannah told us when she came by the gate lodge on a Sunday afternoon. ‘She’s a darling, Ma - nearly seven pounds! And a fine pair of lungs.’
‘Well, it’s nice to hear some good news for a change,’ my mother said. ‘We should try and forget our worries for a while and think how much there is to be thankful for. Ivy will be home soon, and Tom staying for two whole days - it’s going to be a lovely Christmas, I can feel it in my bones.’
But another worry had come along to bother me, quite apart from Mr Gallagher, and this one was no easier to forget. You see, I was in much closer contact with the family now than had ever been the case in my previous life as a kitchenmaid. Lady Vye would often take Bella out in the afternoon and I would ride alongside her to open the gates and be on hand in case of accidents. It was hard to keep up on Moonlight or Cracker when she went off for a gallop, but we usually managed to meet up again sooner or later. Lord Vye’s two sons were home from boarding school for the Christmas holidays, and they were often in the stables as well. I could tell that the older one, Charles, had the same feelings about a girl working there as Mr Gallagher. He was fifteen, the same age as me, and quite the young lord already; his mother had to speak sharply to him over the way he ordered my father about.
‘Mr Stanbury to you, Charles,’ she said. ‘And if you want Cracker saddled up, please ask Grace to oblige. That’s her job.’
Of course he hated being shamed in front of me and became even ruder when his mother wasn’t there. Whenever he came back into the yard after a ride, I was expected to drop everything and run to take the horse; he never stayed to give her a pat and a kind word. His younger brother Lionel was a much more likeable, gentle boy - he seemed to have more of his mother in him. Then again, perhaps being the younger son is an easier part to play. Charles would inherit Swallowcliffe one day; he probably thought he had to make his mark with us servants and wasn’t sure how to do it. My mother had once told me that she thought Lady Vye had been trying to have a baby for years, and they must have been getting desperate by the time Charles came along. Perhaps it was natural that he should have been spoiled a little.
The way Master Charles treated me did not matter so much, however; it was the way he treated Cracker that I found hard to take. Horses are the same as people: they have their own individual characters, their particular likes and dislikes. Cracker’s a fidgety young madam, in need of a sensible rider with a steady hand before she can settle into her stride. Charles wouldn’t give her a moment to catch her breath, though - as soon as he was up in the saddle, he’d be yanking the reins about and kicking her on. I could see from her eyes how much she hated it, and she didn’t take kindly to the whip, either. It didn’t make her go any faster, it just made her hate Master Charles. They were a mismatched pair if ever I saw one, and it was a shame, because he’d ruin Cracker’s soft mouth and spoil her temper for good if he carried on like that.
I was surprised that Lady Vye didn’t take her son in hand, but they didn’t often go out riding together and Charles probably kept his temper in check when they did. So all I could do was try to calm Cracker down when he brought her back. I’d sponge her heaving, sweaty sides with warm water and cover her up with a thick blanket, stuffing a layer of straw underneath if it was particularly cold, then give her some fresh water to drink (warmed up with a drop from the kettle), and a bran mash to soothe her mouth. Poor thing, I did feel sorry for her.
A few days before Christmas, the whole household was summoned to the chapel for another talk from Lord Vye. We had been expecting some sort of announcement about our servants’ dinner, which surely wouldn’t be held this year, not with the war going on. Christmas was usually a grand time for us at Swallowcliffe. On the morning of Christmas Eve there would be a party for the tenants’ children, with Lady Vye giving out presents and organising wonderful rowdy games. Then the carol singers would come, followed by a huge dinner at mid-day in the ballroom for all the servants and tenants. There was always as much roast venison, beef and pork as you could eat, and every kind of vegetable under the sun. We didn’t have to lift so much as a finger - not even down in the kitchen. All the food was ordered in from London, along with a French chef to prepare it, twenty footmen to wait on us hand and foot, and a team of maids to clear up afterwards.
It wouldn’t seem right to have such a great celebration with so many empty seats around the table, and so many men spending their Christmas sitting in a trench with nothing but bully beef and hard biscuits for dinner. No one was surprised when Lord Vye told us the children’s party was to be the only one held this year, with the games quieter than usual as a mark of respect. We thought that was that, but then he went on to take us all by surprise. I would never have guessed what he was about to say next, not in a hundred years.
‘I have some important news that will affect each and every one of us. As you know, this great house has been home to many generations of the Vye family, and also to their servants. The time has now come, however, to open our door to others. I have to tell you that Swallowcliffe Hall is to become a convalescent home for wounded soldiers, for the duration of this war. It will be a haven where they can recover from their injuries in peace and tranquillity before returning to the heat of battle - or being discharged from the army, as the case may be.’
A gasp of surprise had run around the hall; I caught Florrie’s eye and we stared at each other, flabbergasted. Lord Vye held up a hand for quiet. ‘There is no need for alarm. I should like everyone to carry on working here as usual, although some of you may find that your duties will change. My sister, Mrs Hathaway, will supervise the medical arrangements and we shall have a team of volunteer nurses to look after the men. The family will continue living here, and the Dowager Lady Vye will also be returning to the Hall, since the Dower House is to be used for nurses’ accommodation. My wife and I will not be adding to your burden of care, however. We shall be leaving for an extended tour of the United States in the new year.’
Well! How about that? We filed out behind Mr Fenton and went back to our duties not knowing quite what to think. Of course it was only right that Swallowcliffe should be put to good use; we had heard that the government was taking over property like motor-cars and buses if there was a need for them in the war (Lord Vye had been lucky to keep his Rolls-Royce), and even some buildings where soldiers could train and be billeted. Requisitioning, that’s what it was called. All the same, this was going to have a great effect on us. There might be nurses to look after the men, but who was going to cook and clean for them? How could we cope with all the extra work? It also seemed strange that the Vyes should have picked this moment to leave the country - not to mention dangerous. I couldn’t wait for Florrie to come and bring me some gossip from the servants’ hall.
She picked her way through the puddles in the yard that afternoon with a full report. ‘They say His Lordship’s the one behind this trip to America. Lady Vye’s worried about going away at a time like this, but her father’s ill and Lord Vye thinks they should visit him before it’s too late.’ She lowered her voice, even though there was no one but the two of us in the stables; Father would be busy for hours, bringing some of old Lady Vye’s things u
p to the Hall in the dog-cart. ‘Dora said Bess heard Mr Fenton tell Mrs Maroney that Lord Vye wanted to make sure Mr Brookfield - that’s Her Ladyship’s father - wasn’t going to die and leave his fortune to the church. They say he’s got very religious in his old age. Mr Fenton thinks that if some money doesn’t come to the Hall pretty soon, we shall all be in trouble. Lord Vye only went and invested in some German business last year, and now he stands to lose the lot.’
‘But don’t you think it’s too risky to sail anywhere with those U-boats about in the Channel?’ I asked, leaning on the broom.
‘The Vyes’ll be leaving from Liverpool,’ Florrie replied. ‘That’s the other side of the country from where the bombing is, and maybe things aren’t so bad there. Even so, I wouldn’t fancy it myself. Oh, look, here come the boys - better make myself scarce. Toodlepip, Gracie.’ She went off humming, in high spirits because Alf would soon be home on leave from training camp.
Picking out Cracker’s hooves that morning, I’d noticed that one of her shoes was coming loose. I’d hammered the clench back down, though there was no knowing how long it would hold, and mentioned to Mr Gallagher that we should ask the farrier to call. He wouldn’t hear of it.
‘The man was here only last week, and His Lordship’s told me to cut down on the stable bills. This place is costing a fortune to run! I’m not having him round for one loose shoe - you’ll have to wait until he comes again.’
I tried to mention the matter to Charles when I handed Cracker over, but he didn’t pay me any attention and had taken her off before I could even finish the sentence. Still, with a bit of luck the shoe would stay on for a bit longer; if she dropped it, he’d just have to bring her back. With this in mind, I wasn’t entirely surprised to hear him shouting for me from the yard, an hour or so later. Hurrying out of the harness room, I found him leading Cracker along on foot. She was hobbling along like some broken old nag.
‘Damn horse cast a shoe,’ he said. ‘Why did you saddle her up if she wasn’t fit to ride?’
‘I did try to tell you it was loose this morning.’ I took the reins from him, worried by the foam at Cracker’s mouth and her rolling eyes. They’d obviously had quite some battle. ‘Shh, old girl, steady now. Let’s get you inside and take a look.’
‘She’s vicious and lazy, that’s what the matter,’ Charles said. ‘And you’re not taking proper care of her, which doesn’t help. Jim would never have let me go out on a horse in that state.’ And off he went, back to the house.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll put Cobweb away,’ Lionel offered. I could have kissed him.
‘What happened, Master Lionel? Why is Cracker in such a state?’
He hesitated for a moment. ‘I don’t think we noticed straight away that her shoe had come off. Charles thought she was just being naughty when she wouldn’t go.’
It took a long time and a great deal of patient coaxing before Cracker would let me anywhere near that particular leg. When at last I managed to lift it up, I could see why she was in such distress. Her hoof had been split down to the quick, and the soft part of her foot badly cut underneath. She must have been ridden hard over rough, stony ground to do such damage. No wonder she wouldn’t cooperate; the pain must have been awful.
I could have kicked myself for having let this come about. Maybe I shouldn’t have let Cracker out until the farrier had seen her, like Charles had said. But I really didn’t think she’d cast the shoe so soon - and even if she had, he should have felt it immediately. I felt as though I had failed the poor horse. Well, I’d make sure that never happened again.
Seven
Now, dearest Mum, keep your heart up, and trust in Providence: I am sure I shall come through all right. It is a great and glorious thing to be going to fight for England in her hour of desperate need and, remember, I am going to fight for you, to keep you safe.
From a letter written by Second Lieutenant Cyril Rawlins, December 1914
I found Mr Gallagher sitting in the small shed next to the barn where the Rolls Royce was kept, which he had cleared for his own use. He’d fitted it out with a table and chair, and a wood-burning stove to keep the place warm. His feet were up on the table and he was reading a newspaper, swigging from a small silver hip flask.
‘I thought I told you not to come interrupting me, Missy,’ he said, glowering.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but Cracker’s cast that shoe and cut her foot. I’ve tied it up in a poultice but Mr Johnson needs to take a look.’
‘Didn’t you hear what I said this morning? We’re not having the farrier round again until after Christmas, and that’s final. Give her a few days’ rest, and then he can look at her with the others next time - it won’t kill the horse to wait a few days.’
How could he say that without even having seen her? I was sure that we needed Mr Johnson to look at Cracker now, not in a week’s time. He was as much of a horse doctor as a farrier, and Father relied on his advice. I tried again. ‘Mr Gallagher, Cracker’s been hurt, she needs more than rest. I think - ’
‘I don’t care what you think.’ He belched. ‘Didn’t you listen? The decision’s been made.’ He took a fob watch out of his waistcoat pocket. ‘Lord and Lady Vye are coming to my office in a minute to talk about a new motor-car for Her Ladyship, and I don’t want them to see you hanging about. Get on with your work.’ He took a peppermint out of his coat pocket and popped it in his mouth. ‘What are you waiting for? Off you go.’
So off I went, knowing I’d get no change out of him. It wasn’t the end of the matter, though; I’d made Cracker a promise and I wasn’t going to let her down. When the Vyes came walking past the stables a little while later on their way to Mr Gallagher’s ‘office’, I was sweeping the yard, ready to waylay them.
‘Hello, Grace,’ Lady Vye smiled, and then asked (as I knew she would), ‘How are you?’
‘I’m a little worried about Cracker, M’lady,’ I said quickly, in a low voice. ‘I wonder if you’d be so good as to come and see her?’
Her face changed instantly. ‘Of course. Edward, I’ll be five minutes. You can start talking to Mr Gallagher without me.’
Lord Vye looked rather put out, but we hurried into the stables together before he could say anything. ‘These men and their motor-cars,’ Lady Vye confided. ‘I’d far sooner come and see the horses, to tell you the truth.’
Cracker was lying down on the straw in her stall. She put her ears back when we came in, but eventually she let us examine the injured foot. Lady Vye was very gentle and took no longer than was necessary. ‘This is dreadful,’ she said, turning to me. ‘How did such a thing happen, Grace? Were you riding her at the time?’
‘Master Charles had taken her out, and we think it took him a while to notice the shoe had come off.’ I’ve never liked blowing the whistle on anybody, but the truth had to be told. ‘Perhaps Master Lionel can tell you more about it. But I think Mr Johnson really ought to see her, ma’am, if you’d agree.’
‘Well of course he should, there’s no need to ask me for permission. Hasn’t your father gone to fetch him already? Oh no, he’s busy this afternoon, I forgot.’ She got up, dusting down her frock. ‘I know! Mr Gallagher will be driving us to the Cunninghams for dinner shortly. You can ride in the front of the motor with him and he’ll drop you off at the farrier’s - it’s on our way.’
I could hardly object, although my stomach turned over at the very thought. Mr Gallagher was bound to find out sooner or later what I’d done, but Lady Vye ordering him to drive me to Mr Johnson’s door was rubbing salt into the wound. If looks could kill, I’d have dropped down stone dead from the way he glared at me when I climbed up into the motor-car an hour later. I kept as far away from him as possible, sitting on my hands so he wouldn’t see them shaking and wishing I could disappear in a puff of smoke. To my dismay, he got out of the motor with me when we arrived at the farrier’s, ‘to make sure I explained things properly’. It was dark by now. He took my arm, gripping it so tightly I had the marks of h
is fingers for days afterwards, and drew me to one side once we were well out of earshot.
‘Now listen to me carefully, because I’m only going to say this once. You might think you’ve been pretty clever, running to Lady Vye, but I’ve got His Lordship’s ear and he pays your wages. I’d already decided one of you had to go, you or that pug ugly father of yours. Well, now you’ve settled the question for me. You’re not up to the job, and that’s what I shall tell anyone who asks. By the time I come back tonight, there’s to be no sign of you or your belongings anywhere in those stables. I want to pretend you never existed. If I ever set eyes on you again, you’ll wish you hadn’t been born.’
‘Grace! I wasn’t expecting you till tomorrow,’ my mother said when I appeared in her kitchen that night. ‘Got some extra time off, have you? That’s nice. Ivy’s upstairs, getting ready for bed. She’s got a terrible cold. Well, of course she would have, being exposed to all those - ’
‘All those what?’ My sister’s voice floated through the door, followed by Ivy herself, in a nightgown, slippers and thick plaid shawl. Her nose was a little on the red side, but it often has that tendency.
‘All those germs,’ my mother said defiantly. ‘From all those strange people.’
‘Hello, sis,’ Ivy said, ignoring her and giving me a peck on the cheek. ‘You look well. How are you getting on with Father in the stables? Sounds rather a rum do to me.’
Ma pounced. ‘Not nearly as rum as going up and down the road all day on an omnibus.’ She pronounced the word with great distaste. ‘It’s a wonder you don’t get dizzy and fall off! You’ll have broken bones soon, along with pneumonia. Can’t you talk some sense into your sister, Grace? She won’t listen to me.’
Ivy sighed and raised her eyebrows at me. I could imagine exactly how she felt; Mother had probably been going on at her ever since she’d arrived. No wonder she’d decided on an early night.
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