‘I didn’t know it would be like this,’ he blurted out, holding his head in his hands. ‘I came here to work with the poor, Matty. But I didn’t think we’d have to live like them.’
Matilda felt her heart swell up with sympathy for him. On the trip out here they’d often talked up on deck, and she had come to see that his motive for coming to America wasn’t for adventure or self-advancement. He had spoken forcefully against slavery and the huge divide between rich and poor. He wanted education for everyone, child labour to be stamped out, and decent housing for the working classes. His wife had given him hell for the whole voyage and now he was beginning to doubt himself too.
‘If you think the poor live like this,’ she said teasingly, ‘then you don’t know much about the subject. Look around you, sir! This house might look a bit gloomy and drab right now, but that’s because it’s got nothing personal in it. The furniture is decent enough, so are the rugs and curtains. Once I’ve polished the floor it will be lovely.’
As she said those reassuring words, she glanced around her and realized it was in fact the truth. With Lily’s lace chair-backs on the buttoned-backed armchairs, her pictures and ornaments softening the bareness, it would be very like the parlour back home. ‘Why don’t you go to bed now, sir? You look all in.’
He looked up at her, dark eyes boring into her. ‘Thank God I brought you with us, Matty! Your strength is so reassuring and I think I’m going to be leaning on you for some time as I’ve got a feeling Mrs Milson isn’t going to be much help to me for a while. You do know she’s punishing me for bringing her here?’
It was the first time he had ever admitted even obliquely that his wife hadn’t wanted to come. Even when it was obvious that she was wallowing in self-pity on the ship, he’d kept up the pretence that her only problem was the seasickness.
Although Matilda was touched that he felt able to confide in her, she didn’t think she should side with him against his wife. ‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ she said starchily. ‘She’s just frail, and scared about everything. But she’ll be fine in a day or two. Now, off to bed with you, I’ll make sure everything’s locked up.’
After he’d gone upstairs, Matilda opened the door on to the back yard and sat on the step looking up at the night sky. It seemed very strange to think that the stars up there were the same ones as over England, yet she was thousands of miles away. It didn’t feel a foreign place, not here in the darkness. The distant sounds of rumbling carriage wheels could be in Camden Town or anywhere. She wondered then what those beetles were – a sixth sense told her they were some kind of vermin, even though she’d seen nothing quite like them in England. Maybe she could ask someone tomorrow.
Suddenly she remembered that they hadn’t said any prayers tonight. Giles would be upset about that when he realized. Putting her hands together, she said a quick one for all of them, that Lily would wake up feeling better, that Giles would get the welcome he deserved, and that Tabitha would behave for the next few days while they had so much to do.
‘And make me strong enough for all of us,’ she added.
Matilda woke when the early morning sun hit her in the face. Creeping out of bed, leaving Tabitha still sleeping peacefully, she went over to the small window and looked out. She doubted Lily would approve that she’d slept with the child, but last night it had seemed the sensible thing to do, in case Tabitha woke and was frightened to find herself in a strange room.
Her spirits soared when she saw a glimpse of the sea between the two houses opposite. Yesterday evening she hadn’t even looked out of the window, and during the carriage ride here she had supposed they were going away from the sea, not towards it. MacGready had said that New York became unbearably hot in July and August, he’d also ghoulishly mentioned epidemics of cholera, and tuberculosis being rife in the slums, which no doubt added to Lily’s unhappiness. But if they were by the sea, with fresh air, they wouldn’t come to any harm.
Matilda had coaxed the stove back into life, scrubbed the scullery and kitchen floors, polished and dusted the parlour, and she was still down on her knees polishing the floor when she was startled by Tabitha asking her what she was doing.
She looked up to see the little girl standing in the kitchen doorway. Her dark hair was cascading over her white nightgown, her cheeks rosy from sleep, and she looked far more like her father for once.
‘Making it look like home,’ Matilda replied, getting up on to her feet. ‘But I’ve just about finished now. I hope you weren’t scared when you woke up to find yourself all alone? I left you there and came down because you were fast asleep.’
Tabitha gave one of her wide smiles and came running to hug her. ‘Why would I be scared? I’m a big girl now.’
‘Well, sometimes it takes a while to get used to a new house,’ Matilda said, picking the child up to kiss her. ‘Do you see I’ve unpacked some of Mama and Papa’s things?’ She waved her hand towards the mantelpiece where the clock and a couple of china shepherdesses were sitting. ‘But we’ll have to wait till your papa comes down to put the clock right. I don’t know what the time is.’
She guessed by the increased sound of traffic from outside that it was around eight, and if so it was time she got breakfast started. She was looking forward to Giles and Lily seeing what she’d done. Now that sunshine was coming in through the parlour windows and everywhere gleaming with polish, it looked like a different room. ‘Shall we get you bathed before Mama comes down?’
Matilda hadn’t found a bath, there wasn’t even one outside in the yard, but there was a huge fish kettle in the scullery big enough to sit Tabitha in.
Tabitha thought it was a huge joke to be sitting in a fish kettle, and after washing her Matilda left her to play with a tin mug and a couple of spoons while she put the kettle on and laid the kitchen table.
Giles came down as she was drying Tabitha on her lap in the kitchen. She had never seen him looking so unkempt, his shirt was crumpled and he had thick dark stubble on his chin, he hadn’t even combed his hair. He looked more like her father used to in the mornings than a parson.
‘If you give me a moment I’ll get you some hot water,’ she said. ‘I think you’re too big to bathe in a fish kettle!’
Tabitha thought that was very funny and burst into peals of laughter. Giles laughed too.
At once Matilda felt easier. Giles had always liked jokes, and if he’d got his sense of humour back they’d all be fine.
‘Washing and shaving are the least of my worries right now,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d take a quick walk and see if I can find some fresh bread for breakfast. Perhaps I ought to try and find a bath too.’
‘Let me do that,’ Matilda said eagerly. She was dying to explore. ‘I can dress Tabby quickly and she could come with me.’
Giles frowned. ‘I think I ought to check out how safe it is around here first,’ he said.
‘Do you think there might be savages with bows and arrows waiting round the corner?’ she said teasingly.
He smiled. ‘Didn’t I tell you about the cannibals and wild animals? How very remiss of me, Matty,’ he joked, looking and sounding much more like his old self. ‘Maybe we could all go together. There’s safety in numbers.’
‘Then perhaps you’d better spruce yourself up first,’ she said archly, forgetting for a moment who she was talking to. ‘I mean, it wouldn’t do for the new parson to be seen like that!’
He smiled, and patted her shoulder. ‘What would I do without you, Matty? Always the voice of reason!’
‘It’s a lovely place, Mama,’ Tabitha said excitedly as they ate breakfast over an hour later. ‘We saw the sea, and we went in a shop and lots of people lifted their caps to Papa.’
Matilda looked cautiously at her mistress, trying to gauge her mood. She had come downstairs fully dressed a few seconds after they arrived home but she’d merely sat down in the parlour and apart from replying to her husband’s question about whether she’d slept well, she said nothing more.
‘You’ve done very well for us, Matty,’ Lily said after a few minutes. ‘Was the food in the shop like home?’
‘No, it wasn’t,’ Matty admitted. ‘There seemed so much more than we are used to and there were vegetables and fruits I’ve never seen before. I think we’ll have to get someone to explain everything to us.’
‘There’s bound to be women at the church who will put us straight,’ Giles said and patted his wife’s hand affectionately. ‘I asked the man in the shop what Americans ate for breakfast, and he mentioned buckwheat pancakes with maple syrup. That sounds rather good.’
Lily sniffed, her mouth pursed with disapproval, but Matilda noted she had eaten all of her scrambled egg and sausage, and she was reaching out eagerly for a peach. Matilda had never even known there was such a fruit until last summer when one of Giles’s brothers came up from Bath and brought some with him that he had managed to grow in a sheltered part of his garden. She had shared one with Tabitha and thought it was the most heavenly thing she’d ever tasted. But these American ones looked even better, they were as big as oranges and very soft.
Lily cut hers up delicately with a knife and removed the stone, then tasted a small portion cautiously. ‘Umm,’ she murmured, then smiled properly for the first time in weeks. ‘It’s wonderful.’
That peach was the first thing that pleased Lily in America, and just an hour after breakfast the ice man called. Both Giles and Lily had looked at each other in astonishment, and the man had to explain that they had a tin-lined box out in their scullery which if they bought ice from him each day would keep their food fresh during the hot weather.
It was Giles who agreed to buy a lump and as he packed the butter, cheese and milk into it, his wife and Matilda stared in disbelief. But as the temperature rose that first day into the high eighties, and they found the butter was still firm and the milk fresh and cold, they all saw it as something miraculous.
By midday Lily was showing signs of returning to her old self, running her finger along shelves in the kitchen for dirt, putting out her lace chair-backs, and talking about getting hold of some jars to bottle peaches for the winter. Matilda took Tabitha upstairs for a nap at two in the afternoon, and she was still upstairs with her, lining the linen cupboard shelves with fresh paper out on the landing, when the front-door bell rang.
As Lily and Giles were in the parlour, arranging their pictures on the wall, and they’d already said they expected there might be some visitors, she didn’t rush down, but waited to be called if they required tea. She heard a booming male voice, and a much softer lady’s one, and assuming it must be the Reverend Darius Kirkbright and his wife come to welcome the Milsons, she carried on with her work.
As the door from the kitchen to the staircase was closed, when Lily moved in there with the other woman Matilda couldn’t hear what was being said, only the gentle murmur of their voices. It pleased her to think her mistress had some female company at last. Aside from herself, there had only been Mrs Smethwick on the ship, and she had been so snooty that even if Lily had been feeling up to talking to someone, she doubted they would have had anything in common.
The cupboard shelves finished and the clean linen stacked, Matilda made for the small attic room next to her own. The Milsons had decided earlier that this should be Tabitha’s, so Giles could have the second room on the first floor as his study. It was a bare little room with a polished wood floor, and the only furniture a narrow iron bed, a chest of drawers and wash-stand, but with some pretty curtains, a rag rug and counterpane from home and Tabitha’s dolls and other toys it could soon be made more homely.
Matilda had opened the windows wide earlier that morning and given the feather mattress a good shaking. The room smelled nice and fresh now and a breeze coming in from the sea had kept it cool. She made up the bed, put Tabitha’s clothes in the drawers, then began unpacking a box of toys.
In all she must have been up there for some half-hour when the child woke in Matilda’s room and came out to find her, dressed only in her petticoat, her hair sticking to her head with perspiration.
‘What do you think of your room, Tabby?’ Matilda asked her.
Tabitha climbed up on to the bed and tried it out. ‘Nice,’ she said. ‘At night I can pretend I’m still on the ship and the wind’s coming in the porthole.’
Matilda laughed. She was a great believer in wide open windows when it was hot, but Lily always insisted on closing them at night because she had the idea night breezes were loaded with pestilence. ‘Mama won’t let them stay open, not at night, and if I see you leaning out I’ll get bars put on them. Now, shall we put your clothes back on and you can go and see Mama and Papa, they’ve got some visitors but I’m sure they’d like to meet you too.’
Tabitha pulled a face. ‘Can’t we go out for a walk?’
‘Later perhaps when it’s cooler,’ Matilda replied. The heat was draining – she understood now why all the other houses in the street had their shutters closed while the sun was at its hottest. She wished too she had something cooler to wear, she’d been glad of the thick navy-blue serge dress on the ship but it was much too hot now and she hadn’t dared say anything to Lily in case it set her off again.
‘Will it always be hot like this?’ Tabitha said, as Matilda washed her face and neck with cool water.
‘No, your papa said it’s very cold here in the winter,’ she replied as she slipped the child’s dress over her head and buttoned her up.
‘Is Mama ever going to be happy again?’
Matilda’s heart sank. Once early on during the voyage Tabitha had asked her the same thing and she thought she’d managed to convince the child her mother was only sick, not unhappy. Clearly Tabitha knew the difference.
‘Of course she is,’ she said stoutly ‘She was only poorly yesterday because she was very tired and because everything was strange. She’s fine now, talking to her visitors, but you can see for yourself. I’ll just brush your hair then take you down there.’
Matilda hesitated outside the kitchen door. Back in Primrose Hill her position in the household had been clearly defined – apart from any cleaning duties or mealtimes, she stayed in the nursery or the kitchen unless summoned by either of the Milsons ringing the bell. But there was no bell here, Tabitha’s room was far too small to be called a nursery, and with her mistress being forced to use the kitchen, she didn’t know where she was expected to go when they had visitors.
Knocking tentatively, she put her head round the door and asked if she should bring Tabitha in. The two women were sitting at the table sharing a pot of tea. It was unbearably hot from the stove, even though the window and back door were wide open.
‘Of course, Matty,’ Lily said with unexpected warmth. ‘Do come in, both of you, and meet Mrs Kirkbright. This is my daughter Tabitha, and her nursemaid Matilda,’ she added for her visitor’s benefit.
Tabitha ran in, she was always glad to greet anyone new.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs Kirkbright.’ Matilda bobbed a little curtsey and hoped that was appropriate. She guessed the wife of the Reverend Kirkbright, stout and matronly in a lilac dress and matching bonnet, was a great deal older than her mistress. Yet she looked very pleasant, she had large, soft brown eyes and her smile was welcoming. She hadn’t come empty-handed either – on the table was a whole pile of foodstuffs, including a currant cake, jars of preserves and a cooked chicken. ‘I thought you might like to see Tabby, but unless there is something you want me to do down here, I’ll go back upstairs and finish unpacking your clothes.’
‘Do stay, Matty,’ Lily said. ‘Mrs Kirkbright has been telling me about American food and the best places to buy it. I can’t take it all in, but maybe you can.’
It was a surprise not to
be sent packing, and perhaps that was what made Matilda so impulsive. ‘Aren’t you both terribly hot?’ she asked. ‘Wouldn’t you like to sit outside in the yard? It’s cool and shady there, and I scrubbed off the bench there this morning.’
Mrs Kirkbright laughed. ‘No wonder you brought her with you,’ she said, looking at Lily. ‘I’ve never managed to find any servant who acted on their own initiative. I am roasting in here, but I wouldn’t have dreamt of saying so.’
‘I didn’t think it quite seemly to invite you out there,’ Lily said to Mrs Kirkbright, giving Matilda a piercing look as if to remind her how close it was to the privy. ‘Of course at home my husband would have taken Reverend Kirkbright into his study for their private talk, leaving us with the parlour, or even the dining-room. But if you’d be more comfortable out there, perhaps we should move.’
To her consternation Matilda realized she had acutely embarrassed her mistress. She hoped she wouldn’t get into trouble for it later. Yet the yard was very cool and oddly attractive for a place which had clearly been ignored by previous occupants of the house. Overshadowed by neighbouring taller houses and with a central sad-looking tree, it was entirely in deep shade. Matilda had not only scrubbed the wooden bench that morning, but swept the path too. The remaining area of hard-packed soil was covered in a densely packed low-growing weed which, though not a lawn, at least gave an impression of one. As the privy and shed were covered with creepers, the lush greenness was welcome after the heat of the kitchen.
‘Oh, this is better,’ Mrs Kirkbright said, smiling as she sank down on to the bench and fanned at her face. ‘What us poor women have to endure in the summer with our long dresses, petticoats and stays!’
Lily smiled, but Matilda knew she thought it improper of Mrs Kirkbright to mention underclothes.
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