There was surprise in her voice, but then she heard Mrs Franklin laugh softly. ‘Come along, my dear, it’s quite all right.’
Still Kitty hesitated. It was not that she was a timid girl – far from it. ‘Bold as brass and cheeky with it,’ was often Mrs Grundy’s view of her kitchen maid. But Kitty knew her place within this household, had had it instilled in her by her mother long before she ever came into service and that place was not sitting beside her mistress on the soft cushions of the window seat in her private sitting room.
Nervously, Kitty perched on the edge of the seat.
‘Why did you not tell me about your mother having served as a lady’s maid? She must have been good because my late mother-in-law . . .’ a smile twitched her mouth, ‘was not an easy lady to please.’
The woman’s kindness brought a rush of words from Kitty’s lips. ‘I thought you might think I was trying to use that. I thought it wasn’t – well – quite honest. And besides . . .’ She faltered.
‘And?’ Mrs Franklin prompted.
Kitty felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘I – I’m not sure why me mother left here. I mean . . .’
Mrs Franklin’s hazel eyes were regarding her gently, almost with a look of pity. ‘No, my dear, I don’t suppose you do.’ Softly, she added, ‘I suppose there are many things children don’t know about their parents’ lives.’
Again there was silence while Kitty waited. Surprisingly, Mrs Franklin said, ‘Tell me about your family, Kitty.’
‘My – my family, madam?’
‘Mm. Your father, for instance. Does he still work on the railway?’
Kitty’s eyes widened. ‘How . . .?’ she began but then, realizing her question might be thought impertinent, she stopped.
‘He worked as my father-in-law’s groom,’ Mrs Franklin was explaining. ‘But he left here – well – about the time he and your mother were married and I understood that he got a job as a porter.’
‘He’s the stationmaster now, madam. I suppose that’s how me mam and dad met, then? When they both worked here, I mean.’
Mrs Franklin’s gaze dropped away. ‘I suppose so, Kitty. Your mother had gone by – by the time I married Mr Franklin and came to live at the Manor, although your father was still here then. But yes, I suppose they must have met . . .’ Her voice trailed away and there was a long pause before she said, ‘And you have brothers and sisters?’
Kitty grinned. ‘Oh yes, madam, the house fair bursts at the seams with all us lot. I’m the eldest, then there’s George and Timothy. Then there’s our Milly, she’s nearly thirteen, then Grace and Jane and the youngest, he’s called Robert. At least, that’s his proper name but he’s such a little chap, we all call him Bobbie.’
‘What a lovely big family,’ Mrs Franklin murmured and Kitty thought she detected a note of envy. ‘And are they all – healthy?’
Kitty felt a pang of sympathy for her employer, knowing that the gentle, loving mother was thinking of her own delicate son who was not expected to ‘make old bones’, as Mrs Grundy put it.
‘Mostly, madam, yes, but Timothy, he gets the wheezes like Master Edward.’
Mrs Franklin’s face was full of compassion. ‘So that explains why you’re so patient with Edward.’ Her glance held Kitty’s own. ‘Don’t think I don’t know about you spending some of your own time with my son, Kitty. It doesn’t go unnoticed and it does you credit, my dear.’
Kitty blushed and stammered. ‘Th-thank you, madam.’
‘Well then,’ Mrs Franklin went on more briskly. ‘I have spoken to Mrs Grundy and while she is loth to lose you as her kitchen maid . . .’ she leaned closer, as if sharing a secret, ‘she said you were the best kitchen maid she’d ever had.’
Kitty’s eyes sparkled. ‘Did she? Did she really?’
‘Yes, really.’ The woman’s face sobered. ‘But you do know, Kitty, don’t you, that although you’ll be my maid, you’ll also have to act as Miss Miriam’s personal maid and – well . . .’ she sighed. ‘It’s no secret, is it, that my daughter can be . . . a little difficult to work for?’
Kitty almost gasped aloud. She could hardly believe that she was sitting here being spoken to by Mrs Franklin almost as an equal, that her employer was taking her into her confidence in such a way. She felt honoured to be so trusted. Kitty squared her shoulders and said seriously, ‘Yes, madam. I do know.’
‘And you still think you could cope?’
Kitty’s brown eyes stared straight into the troubled eyes of the older woman. ‘Yes, madam,’ she said firmly. And although she did not say the words aloud, in her mind Kitty added, Miss Miriam just needs someone who will stand up to her and not allow herself to be bullied. But she could not voice these thoughts, not to the girl’s mother of all people.
She heard Mrs Franklin give a gentle sigh. ‘Well, Kitty, I’m willing to let you try. But I wouldn’t want you to leave because of my daughter’s behaviour. You’re a good, trustworthy girl, my dear, hardworking and honest, according to Mrs Grundy, and I wouldn’t want to lose you.’
Feeling as if she was bursting with pride, Kitty left the room, running down the stairs and into the kitchen.
‘Mrs Grundy, oh Mrs Grundy, you old darling, you.’ She caught hold of the cook’s rotund little body and tried to whirl her around the table.
‘’Ere, ’ere, steady on,’ Mrs Grundy gasped, clinging to Kitty. ‘You’ll ’ave me over, ya daft ’aporth.’
Kitty stopped her whirling. ‘Fancy you saying such nice things about me to the mistress. Oh Mrs G., she’s given me the job. I’m going to be her personal maid and wear a smart black dress and pretty frilled apron and cap. Oh Mrs Grundy, thank you, thank you.’
The older woman shook her head. ‘Don’t thank me yet, child. I ain’t so sure I’ve done you a kindness, ’cos you’ll be maid to Miss Miriam an’ all.’
Kitty laughed, carried away on a wave of euphoria by her success. ‘I know, but don’t you worry, Mrs G., I’ll handle her.’
Mrs Grundy still looked none too sure. ‘I hope, for your sake, ya do.’ Then she gave a wry smile. ‘I’m pleased for you, lass, if it’s what you really want. But I certainly haven’t done mesen any favours. You’re a good girl and I’m going to have a job replacing you.’
Kitty was still a moment. ‘Well, er, about that, Mrs Grundy . . .’ she began.
The cook looked at her sharply. ‘You know of someone? Out with it then, girl.’
‘My sister Milly. She’s coming up to thirteen. Would you consider her?’
Mrs Grundy was beaming. ‘Consider her? I’ll do more than that, lass, if she’s another of Betsy Clegg’s daughters. When can she start?’
Suddenly, the kitchen was filled with the sound of their laughter.
Six
The two sisters stood facing each other in the attic bedroom they were to share.
‘Now, you just mind your p’s and q’s, our Milly, ’cos you’re here on my say-so, so don’t you go letting me down.’
‘Ooh no, Kitty. I won’t, really I won’t.’ Pale grey eyes, wide and filled with apprehension, stared back at her. There was no likeness between the sisters, indeed it was difficult to imagine that they were so closely related. Milly was a nervous creature, pallid and thin, with lank mouse-coloured hair. She had none of Kitty’s pert prettiness, nor the hint of mischief and daring that so often sparked in the older sister’s eyes. ‘And just you do everything Mrs Grundy tells you and don’t go listening to what anyone else ses, see? Specially not that Sarah Maybury. Lead you into bad ways, she will, with her toffee-nosed manners.’ Although Kitty had not lived at home for the past three years, she remembered that her younger sister could be easily led by others. ‘You hear me, Milly?’
‘I’ll work ever so hard, Kitty, honest I will. And make you and Mam proud of me.’ Tears welled in the young girl’s eyes and Kitty threw her arms about her and hugged her hard. ‘It’s lovely to have you here, our Milly. I have missed everyone since I came into service. But now I’ve got you here, me own sister.’ S
he released her and stood back, but kept her hands resting lightly on Milly’s shoulders. ‘We won’t get a lot of time off together, but when we do, we’ll have such fun. You’ll be all right, Milly,’ Kitty reassured her now, feeling a little guilty for having been rather sharp with the girl who, despite having reached thirteen, the age at which most girls were expected to start work, nevertheless looked at this moment like a forlorn little child. ‘Just do what Mrs Grundy tells you and you’ll not go far wrong.’
‘She’s a bit – fierce, ain’t she?’ Milly’s voice quavered.
Kitty laughed. ‘Not really, when you get to know her. Her bark’s worse than her bite, as they say. She’s a kindly old stick, really.’
‘She likes you,’ Milly murmured. ‘And her and our mam seem very friendly.’
‘Well, it seems they knew each other years ago when our mam worked here.’
Milly’s eyes widened. ‘Mam worked here? In this big house? When?’
‘Before she was married to our dad. Seems he was the groom here then an’ all.’
‘Oh,’ Milly said, pondering this information which was quite new to her. ‘Oh Kitty, how romantic. Can you imagine our mam and dad meeting in secret?’ She giggled. ‘Maybe in the hayloft, eh?’ Then she was eyeing her older sister speculatively. She put her head on one side and, much to Kitty’s surprise, there was a hint of slyness in her tone as she added, ‘Are there any nice grooms here now then?’
Kitty stared at her, then laughed. ‘I really haven’t noticed.’
‘I bet!’ Milly scoffed and some of her nervousness seemed to disappear.
Kitty shrugged. ‘I’ve got me eye on someone far better than a groom.’
‘Who? Do tell?’
But Kitty tapped the side of her nose and said, ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out, young Milly, so there. And besides, you’re far too young to be knowing about such things.’ At this moment the three years that separated them seemed far greater. Kitty felt herself to be a young woman, whereas she still thought of Milly as a schoolgirl. She was forgetting completely that at Milly’s age she, too, had been embarking upon her first job and had thought herself very grown up.
‘Now,’ Kitty said. ‘Let’s have a look at you before we go downstairs.’ Her expert glance ran over Milly’s grey dress and apron and the triangular cloth that covered her hair, the type of attire that Kitty herself had so recently discarded with such glee. ‘Yes, you’ll do. But let me give you a word of warning. Always keep a clean apron handy and mind you wear the sack apron over this when you’re doing mucky jobs. Mrs Grundy hates to see her kitchen maid with either a dirty apron or dirty hands. It throws her into a right old paddy so keep yer hands clean and your nails scrubbed and,’ she added, grasping one of Milly’s hands and holding it up for inspection, ‘you’d better stop biting ya nails an’ all.’
Milly nodded, only half-listening as her envious gaze took in her elder sister’s appearance. ‘You look ever so smart, our Kitty.’
Kitty preened before the mirror, proud of her new uniform. Black dress, stockings and shoes and a snowy white apron with a frill of delicate lace round the bib. Gone was the unbecoming headgear that hid all her raven hair and on top of her curls there now perched a dainty cap. She had scrubbed her hands and Mrs Grundy had given her some cream to rub into them each night.
‘Now that you’ll be handling madam’s silks and satins, you can’t have rough, chapped hands like that, lass,’ the cook had said.
Kitty whirled around from the mirror and reaching for her sister’s hand, smiled and said, ‘Come on, our Milly, it’s time we went and started our new jobs.’
Kitty ducked quickly as the glass jar flew towards her and shattered against the oak door, splintering into a thousand tiny shards.
‘A kitchen maid. I won’t have a dirty kitchen maid touching me!’
Kitty’s heart beat faster, thumping so loudly inside her chest that she was sure Miss Miriam could hear it. But she stood and faced her new young mistress. The girl was quite beautiful; there was no denying the fact. Quietly, but with a new-found strength in her tone that surprised even her, Kitty said, ‘You’ll have none of them pretty glass jars left, miss, if you keep chucking them at the door. Besides, I aren’t a kitchen maid, now. I’m your personal maid. Your mother appointed me herself to be her maid – and yours.’
Miriam sprang up from the dressing stool and moved towards her. ‘I aren’t? I aren’t? Why, you can’t even speak properly.’
‘Mind the glass, miss. Ya’ve nothing on ya feet.’
‘Dun’t ya dare tell me what to do,’ she began, cruelly mimicking Kitty’s strong accent. ‘Ya scruffy little . . . Ouch!’ Her words ended in a howl of pain as she hopped on one foot.
‘I told you so,’ Kitty said and stepped towards her, the glass crunching beneath her stout-soled shoes. She grasped the girl’s arm firmly and propelled her back towards the bed and away from the glass.
‘Sit up there and let’s ’ave a look at ya foot.’
‘Let go of me.’ Miriam twisted her arm out of Kitty’s grasp, but she did hoist herself up on to the high bed and lift up her foot, thrusting it towards the maid for inspection.
‘Ya’ve got a bit of glass in ya foot,’ Kitty said, bending over it. ‘Hold still now and I can get it out – there, that’s it.’ Triumphantly she held up the splinter of glass, the end coloured red with the girl’s blood.
‘Oh! It’s bleeding,’ Miriam cried, petulantly.
‘’Course it is, but it’s nowt. I’ll bathe it.’
‘Oh no you won’t!’ Suddenly Miriam reached out and Kitty found the pretty lace cap being torn from her head, the hairpins securing it tugging at her hair. Then Miriam dug her strong fingers deep into Kitty’s curls and grasped a handful. Kitty gave a cry of pain, but Miriam only twisted the hair even more, pulling the maid’s head towards her.
Their faces only inches apart, Kitty stared into the girl’s green eyes that were glittering with spitefulness. ‘You are not going to be my maid.’
Kitty reached up for the tangled mane of thick auburn hair. Digging her fingers into its depths, she, in turn, grasped Miriam’s hair and was gratified to see the look of astonishment in the girl’s eyes. ‘Oh yes I am,’ Kitty muttered through clenched teeth with an outward show of calmness she certainly did not feel inside. ‘Your mother—’
‘My mother,’ the girl spat out the words so that Kitty felt the shower of spittle on her face. ‘Just wait till my mother hears about this. She’ll dismiss you at once and without a reference.’ It was the ultimate threat, for to find work among the gentry without a good reference from a previous employer was virtually impossible.
‘I don’t think so,’ Kitty said slowly and deliberately. ‘I reckon that ya mam is only too pleased – relieved, even – to have found someone who’s prepared to take you on. And someone who already knows what they are taking on.’
That’s it, Kitty thought, I’ve really gone too far this time. I’ll be out on my ear for this, sure as eggs is eggs.
‘You insolent little baggage . . .’ Miriam began but then, suddenly, Kitty saw a shadow of uncertainty flit across the girl’s face and knew her words had struck home. Miss Miriam might be spoilt, petulant and quick tempered with more than a little spitefulness in her nature, but she was also beautiful and very clever. She excelled at her lessons, could draw and paint skilfully and her embroidery already adorned the walls of the dining room. No, Miss Miriam was no fool. She knew herself exactly what she was like; she knew only too well.
Then Kitty saw a calculating, devious gleam come into the girl’s beautiful green eyes which were still so close to her own. Miriam’s grip on Kitty’s hair tightened, making the young maid bite her lip to stop herself from crying out in pain.
‘Well, you might think you can go running to my mother with your tales, but my father, Kitty Clegg, my dear father who dotes on me will be absolutely horrified when I tell him what you’ve done.’
Seven
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nbsp; Kitty hardly slept that night, knowing that, with the morning, the summons would come from the mistress – or, worse still, from the master–andbylunchtime she would probably be on her way home with her bags packed and without a job.
Downstairs even earlier than normal, she was heavy-eyed and clumsy with nervousness.
‘Whatever’s got into you, Kitty. This new job gone to your head already, has it?’ Mrs Grundy grumbled as Kitty dropped a cup, the china pieces skittering across the tiled floor in a hundred fragments. ‘You’re not setting a very good example to your sister, now are you?’
‘I’m sorry, Mrs G. It’s just that . . . Oh!’ She jumped and looked up at the clanging bell above the door.
‘By heck, Kitty, you look as if you’ve been summoned to the torture chamber.’ Mrs Grundy leaned towards her and asked, shrewdly, ‘Not getting trouble from that little madam already, are ya?’
‘Yes, no, well . . .’
‘Mek up ya mind then, lass.’ She too glanced up at the bell. ‘That’s the mistress anyway, so I should run along and see what she wants.’
I know what she wants, Kitty thought, trying to swallow the fear that rose in her throat. That’s why I don’t want to go up. But there was no escape as the cook said again, ‘Go on, Kitty. Don’t keep her waiting.’
‘There you are, Kitty. I thought this morning I’d teach you how to do my hair,’ Mrs Franklin greeted her. ‘I’ve an hour to spare and you can practise putting it up in this style for me. It’ll help you to understand how to do Miriam’s as well. Now, I’ve laid out all the pins and combs, so let’s begin, shall we?’
Kitty moved forward to stand behind her mistress who was seated in front of her dressing table. The next hour was pleasantly spent and, for a while, Kitty even managed to forget the cloud hanging over her.
‘There,’ Mrs Franklin said at last. ‘You’ve done very well, Kitty, for your first attempts. Now, run along and see if Miss Miriam needs you.’ She smiled. ‘I expect she’s probably gone riding and left her bedroom looking as if a whirlwind has passed through it.’
Chaff upon the Wind Page 4