The Rag Nymph

by Catherine Cookson

  'Yes. Yes, Sister.'

  'Goodbye, my child; and God be with you always.'

  Millie sat again on the edge of the bed, her head bowed deep on her chest, the tears running unheeded down her face. Beware of the evil that men do. Beware of the evil that men do. Yes, she would remember those words, and always remember Sister Cecilia.

  FOUR

  Millie had been home for nearly three months when she received a letter from Annabel. It was the first communication she'd had with her since the day she left the convent ignominiously and in dire disgrace.

  And during that time the house had become brighter in all ways, not only through her cleaning and her presence but also through her cooking.

  She had become expert in at least three dishes while under the tuition of Sister Cecilia: the meat pudding, a lamb stew thickened with lentils, barley, and vegetables and topped with dumplings, and, a real piece of expertise: the making of light pastry with either pig's fat or beef dripping.

  From the time she returned to the house, both Aggie and Ben ate better, lived more comfortably and were happier. Yet, their frame of mind was always streaked with anxiety that caused them both to be forever on the watch. They made it a rule that she was never to be alone. If she went out of the yard, which was rarely, one or other would go with her, and they never both left the yard together.

  Although their protection wasn't evident Millie was conscious of it, and there were times when she felt as hemmed in as she had done during that

  tortured year or more when guarded by the sisters.

  Then came the letter; and she read it aloud to them:

  'Dear Millie,

  My mama asks if you would care to come to tea on Saturday afternoon at four o'clock. Also Mama would like to speak with your guardian about something that may be of benefit to you.

  I miss you very much. I am no longer with the nuns but am to attend a day school. I have such a lot to tell you, and I'm looking forward to our meeting.

  Your friend, Annabel.'

  She looked from Aggie to Ben, and it was Aggie who said, 'Something that may be of benefit to you.

  What does she mean by that?'

  Ben was grinning now as he looked at Millie, saying, 'Perhaps they're goin' to adopt you.'

  'I don't want to be adopted, Ben; I've been adopted.'

  She smiled at Aggie; although Aggie gave her no answering smile, but just said, 'Well, the day's Thursday. We'll have to wait an' see what the benefit's goin' to be ... Would you like to go to school again?'

  Millie did not answer straightaway; then, thoughtfully, she said, 'I thought I might like to go to the day school. I mean, like I did before. Yes' - she nodded now- 'yes, I think I'd like more schooling.'

  'Why?'

  She turned towards Ben as she answered him,

  'Well, because I know there's a lot to learn.'

  'Can't see that. You can read a newspaper from beginning to end and you can write better than those fellas who keep the thing goin'. As for talkin', I would say there are few who could talk better.

  That's when' - he poked his head forward, a mischievous grin on his face now - 'you don't let drop one of those naughty words; you know, like you did yesterday.'

  'I didn't. I didn't swear. Well ... I mean--' She shook her head, then looked at Aggie, saying now,

  'If you didn't say it so often, I wouldn't either.'

  'What's this I say so often?'

  'Damn and blast your eyes.'

  'I don't say that very often'

  Both Ben and Millie now began to laugh, and, getting to his feet, Ben said, 'Know thyself, woman.

  Know thyself. Anyway, if you're goin' to tea with the toffs you'd better get scrubbed down and pick out some decent clothes.'

  'There was nothing mentioned in that letter about me havin' tea.'

  'Well, if you're not invited I won't stay either. But as Ben says, put on some nice things. There's ...

  there's the print frock I let out that fits you. It's nice.

  And there's that nice cape you got last week.'

  'Shut up! both of you.' Aggie pulled herself up from the chair. 'Why don't you strip me down and go over me with a scrubbin' brush?'

  'That's an idea.' Ben's expression was serious as he nodded towards Millie, and she answered him, 'Yes; yes, it is. But we'll have to do it with cold water and the yard broom.'

  That's enough. D'you hear? That's enough.' When Aggie swung round with a lightness that always denied her heavy bulk and made hastily for the door, Millie flew after her and, jumping in front of her, threw her arms around her waist as far as they would go, crying, 'I'm sorry. It wasn't nice. I was just trying to be funny, like Ben. You're ...

  you're so clean underneath, and nobody knows except me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. And I love you. Oh, I do love you.'

  'Shut up and be quiet. Stop your jabber. And leave go of me.'

  As Aggie pulled the arms from around her waist she glanced to the side, for Ben was no longer in the

  room. 'Come here,' she said as she walked back to the fireplace. And when again Millie stood close by her side she looked down on her and said, 'Never try to be funny at other people's expense. Ben can do it because ... well, he's a man, and one expects it from a man. But with a woman or girl, no, unless it's against yourself. You can be funny against yourself.., you know what I mean, belittlin'

  yourself like, but don't be funny belittlin' anybody else. You understand?'

  Millie's voice was breaking as she said, 'Oh, yes, yes, Mrs Aggie, I understand. Oh, yes, I understand, and I'll never do it again.'

  'Oh" - Aggie now wagged her head - 'be as funny as you like, but don't level it against anybody to hurt them. That's unless they've deserved it, or done something bad. Oh, what am I yammerin' on about?

  Go on, get on with your work. You were goin' to make a tart, weren't you? I'll tell you what else you can do; you can make half a dozen or so of those currant buns of yours and take them with you on Saturday as a kind of present for the lady.'

  It was as much as Millie could do to check herself from saying, 'Oh, I don't think I should do that. I mean, they've got a cook.' She had already hurt this dear, kind, woman. And to point out to her now that she didn't know the right thing to do when visiting people like the Kirkleys would be, in a way, against the advice she had just given her, although it wasn't to do with talking; more like behaviour and deportment or some such. Well, whatever it was, she knew she'd have to bake her little cakes and present them to Mrs Kirkley on Saturday.

  The maid who opened the door to them could not take her eyes off the great fat woman in the biscuit straw hat with big cloth roses on its brim, and the cape that just covered her shoulders and showed an expanse of blue cotton bosom, the like she had never seen before. As she was about to say, 'I'll tell the mistress you've come,' there was a scampering of feet on the stairs, and Annabel almost threw herself on Millie, crying, 'Oh! how lovely! How lovely to see you!'

  Millie was smiling widely at her friend as she proffered the coloured plate, saying, 'I ... I baked some currant buns for you.'

  'They're for your mother, love.' Aggie was smiling brightly at Annabel.

  'Oh, then Mama will love them. Oh! here she is.

  Mama, Millie has brought you a present; they're currant buns. She makes lovely cakes. I told you.'

  It says much for the calibre of Mrs Kirkley that, after greeting Aggie with an inclination of her head and a smile, she looked at Millie, who was handing her the present, and said, 'Oh, thank you very much, Millie; I'm sure they'll be delightful. We must have them for tea. Jessie--' She turned towards the maid, who was standing apart and, handing her the plate, she said, 'Have these put on the table for tea, please.'

  The maid took the plate from her mistress as if it were hot. Then Mrs Kirkley led the way into her drawing-room and there, after indicating that they should all be seated, she looked at Millie, saying,

  'Well, isn't this nice! I'm so pleased to see you again.

&
nbsp; And how are you?'

  'Very well, ma'am, very well.'

  'Have you been attending school at all?'

  'No; not yet; but we' - she glanced towards Aggie -'we are thinking about it, considering it.'

  'Oh, well then, that in a way will be a pity, at least for us, because the proposition that Annabel indicated in her letter is to do with a post for you.' She inclined her head deeply now; then, after a moment she turned her attention to Aggie, saying, 'You see, my cousin is looking for a nursemaid to help with her six children. It would be a very good position for any young girl, and a happy one. My cousin is married to the bailiff on Mr Crane-Boulder's estate.

  They are the mill owners, you know.' As if by way of explanation that a cousin of hers should be married to a bailiff, she now added, 'My cousin was very young when she married. Her husband is from a good family; in fact he is distantly connected with the Crane-Boulder's family, but ... but he was the youngest son, and you know what positions go to the younger sons.'

  She held out her hand, palm upwards now, and moved her head slowly as she looked at Aggie as if she were talking to a friend who would understand that a cousin of hers had not married beneath her.

  And then she went on, 'They live in the grounds.

  Not in the lodge; it is a very nice, large house. It would have to be' - her smile widened - 'with six children, wouldn't it? Well, there it is. I'm sure that you would want to talk this over, but if you do feel you can consider it' - she was still addressing Aggie 'I could ask my cousin to keep the position open for a week or two. In the meantime, I am sure if Millie here would like to go and see my cousin and discuss the whole situation, my husband would be delighted to provide escort.'

  She did not add, He would jump at the chance of someone filling that post, so that he wouldn't be asked to take the children off Rose's hands until she is once more fixed up with someone who could

  manage her unruly crowd, as well as herself and the house. By the end of last year, when they had three of the children, he had been almost driven to distraction. He blamed Rose, and wouldn't have a word said against William.

  Oh yes, he would take Millie there. And she, too, felt the girl would fit in. She was certainly still young enough to play with children, but, in a way, she seemed to have an old head on those shoulders.

  And so she smiled now as she said, 'There it is.

  You must, as I said, have time to think about it.'

  'I would have thought there's plenty of lasses ready to jump into such jobs, ma'am, jobs of all kinds being' scarce.'

  'Yes. Yes, there are plenty of ... girls, Mrs Winkowski, but they are not the type my cousin would appreciate. She has already experienced some.

  As I'm sure you know, the majority of girls seeking such posts can neither read nor write and are of such low intelligence that they have no control over the children; in fact, the children soon take advantage of them. Children are very wily, you know. So, thinking it needed someone superior who might fit the requirements of the position, I thought of Millie as a most suitable person, and decided to put the proposition to you, Mrs Winkowski. Of course, that

  is if you don't intend to allow her to continue with her schooling. Yet, I'm sure she will learn a lot from being in contact with my cousin and her husband, not to mention with the Crane-Boulders themselves, you know, the owners of the estate, because they socialise liberally. Ah' - she looked towards the door - 'there is the signal for tea. Would you like to come along?'...

  They had tea, just the four of them. Mrs Kirkley ate one of Millie's buns and praised it highly; and after Annabel had eaten one, and then asked if she might have another, her mother exclaimed in mock sternness, 'Oh! Annabel. Your manners!'

  It was when tea was over that Mrs Kirkley said to her daughter, 'Would you like to take Millie round the garden, dear?' And when Annabel exclaimed,

  'Oh, yes, Mama,' the two girls turned towards each other before hurrying from the room. Aggie, of course, knew she was in for, what was termed, a bit of confidential chat; and she wasn't mistaken, because Mrs Kirkley, without any preamble, began by saying, 'There is more than one reason why I have suggested this position for Millie. You know, Mrs Winkowski, girls will talk, and I suppose it was during one of Millie's lonely periods while under the sisters that she confided in Annabel why she had been sent to the school. It was because of her fear and your concern regarding a certain man who seemed bent on ... well, how can one put it, except by plainly saying, abducting her. And for what purpose we won't go into. She is aware, as you yourself only too well know, that her looks are bound to attract attention, and that beautiful hair; its colour is so unusual that that alone will draw eyes to it. Well, need I point out?'

  'No, you needn't, ma'am. As for the abduction business, I think we can say that's over. We've never seen hilt nor hair of that man for well over a year now. He could be gone from the town.'

  'Oh yes.' The delicate eyebrows were raised. 'On the other hand, there is the possibility he couldn't.

  But there, you are the best judge of that. I only put it to you. By the way, do you know much about her mother?'

  'No, ma'am, only that she died before her time and had been a lady's maid.'

  'Oh, indeed; a lady's maid? Ah yes; likely it is from the mother that the child gets that air she possesses ... Or was it from the father, do you think? Do you

  know anything about him?'

  'Only that he seemed to be in a decent position, and that he died.'

  'Oh. Oh.' Mrs Kirkley sat back in her chair. 'I'm so glad we've had this little talk; and it's so nice to think that she and Annabel are friends. Annabel thinks the world of her.' She did not go on to express the next thought in her mind: thank goodness Annabel was going away to school, and very soon the association would be closed, for its continuance would create an impossible situation.

  It was Aggie who now rose first from her chair and so bringing the conversation to an end by saying,

  'Well, ma'am, I thank you for your hospitality, and also for your kindness to the child. I'll think over what you've said, and also put it to Ben. He's a sort of help and partner, and he's had part of the rearing of her from the time I took her, and his advice is always sensible. So now we must be off.'

  'Of course. Of course. I'll call the girls.'

  The goodbyes were said; Annabel and Millie clasped hands, but Mrs Kirkley gently prevented her daughter from seeing their guests to the gate.

  And perhaps it was just as well because there, on the seat of the rag cart and sitting as patiently as the pony was standing, was Ben. And from the pavement he looked a big, decently dressed young man, for his head and shoulders were well above the back of the seat.

  On sight of them, he jumped down and first helped Aggie, then Millie up, and lastly squeezed himself corner-wise into the seat, took up the reins, and shouted, 'Gee up! there.' And so they made for home.

  A short time later they were sitting round the table.

  Aggie had explained to Ben what had turned out to be the reason for their invitation to tea; and now she broke into his silence by saying, 'Well! Can't you say something?'

  What he said was, 'It's not for me to say, Aggie, it's for her. Let her go and see if she fancies staying there. Ten miles out, you say, and there's a squad of kids to look after?' He turned to Millie, saying, 'How does that appeal to you: six kids, the eldest ten?'

  'Oh, I wouldn't mind that, not for a time anyway.

  Perhaps I wouldn't like to stay there very long, because, as I said, I might want to go to school again. But,' she now smiled from one to the other, 'it would be an experience; and, as Annabel told

  me, I'd get one and six a week and a half day off, besides a full day every month.' She made a face now as she added, 'Annabel seemed to think that was generous.'

  'Well, compared to the leave they get in the big houses I suppose it is; half a day a month for some of them, and then no leave at all if they're known to come from the workhouse, or one of the settlement
s.

  Well, it seems that you'd like to go and take a look at the place and the people before you make your mind up; and I suppose that's only right. But have you thought what I'm goin' to do here, left on me own? This place'll turn into a hovel again. And what about our fancy meals, eh?'

  'Oh, Mrs Aggie' - she put her hand across the table towards the plump elbow resting there - 'I won't go.

  As I said before, I could go to half-day school here.

  Yes; why not? It's a silly idea, and I'm big enough to take care of myself now... ' Her voice trailed off as the two pairs of eyes fixed on her and her head drooped as she said, 'That was a silly thing to say.

  But you could always take me and fetch me back as you did before.' She had addressed herself to Ben, and he said, 'Aye, I could. But you know something?

  For your own good, at least for the next year or so, I think you'd be best out of the way. And at the bottom of this one's heart' - he thumbed towards Aggie 'I'm sure she thinks the same. And I promise you something: I won't let the house get into a hovel; I'll do a bit of cleanin' up meself. And if she would only let me have Annie round' - his thumb was wagging again - 'the place would be spotless.'

  The look that Aggie fixed on him silenced his tongue but left his face in a wide grin.

  Aggie rose from the chair and went into the scullery, and Ben, reaching along the table, covered Millie's hand with his own, and she turned and gazed at him.

  There was always something comforting about Ben: she felt that she loved him as much as she did Mrs Aggie. And on the thought, she lifted the hand, the squat unusually clean hand, and held it against her cheek.

  'Oh, Millie love. Millie.'

  There was something in his voice that made her want to throw herself into his arms; but then she knew that Aggie wouldn't like that. Mrs Aggie wasn't for shows of affection, which, she felt, was a pity, for love should have an expression.

  FIVE

  Up to the previous evening there had been questions bandied back and forth between Aggie and Ben as to whether, after all, it would be necessary for Millie to take the post she had been offered. But at half-past seven the next morning they knew they had made the right decision. In fact, for a moment, the situation facing Millie seemed to be God-directed when, at seven o'clock, as soon as Ben had opened the gates, a Mrs Walton came hurrying in.