The Lost And Found Girl

by Catherine King

  ‘Sit her on the couch.’

  But Daisy took one look at the bed and fell forwards, sprawling over the tapestry cover. Her skin burned and her head throbbed. She closed her eyes and prayed for oblivion. The last thing she was aware of was the old woman’s thin reedy voice saying, ‘You’ll have to help me with her.’

  She was vaguely aware of being undressed and aided as best she could. But her head seemed to be floating on the ceiling away from her body and she took the small draught that Annie offered to her without resistance. It made her drift away from the pain but she was aroused later by a stinging sensation on her behind and squealed. Somebody was applying a poultice to her, then pulling up her drawers and tying the tapes. ‘Put her on the couch,’ she heard. ‘There’s a blanket over the back.’ Lying flat on her stomach, she sank into a slumber and the next thing she was aware of was a pale grey light in the chamber and dawn was breaking.

  Chapter 19

  Her head throbbed and felt heavy. She was hot and shivery at the same time. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and she was thirsty. She moaned as she tried to move and it was not just due to the pain from her whipping, her limbs felt like lead and she was drained of all her energy. With difficulty she turned on her side and recalled how she’d got here. There was no sign of Annie. The old woman was sitting up in bed, wrapped in her shawl with her head tipped back in sleep. Daisy flopped back onto her stomach, shut her eyes and hoped for oblivion again. She must have dozed because the room was lighter when she next opened them and the bent old woman was moving about the room. She turned onto her side and groaned.

  The old woman stopped what she was doing and came over. She had her spectacles on her nose and peered closely at her face. ‘Try and sit up and I’ll give you some water.’

  Such nectar! The cold clear liquid slid down her rasping throat and she gulped.

  ‘Steady,’ the woman advised. ‘Sip slowly.’ She put a hand on her brow. ‘I’ll mix you another draft. The chamber pot is in that commode and there’s clean water in the pitcher.’

  Daisy hardly had the strength to get up from the couch but as she moved she realised that her wounds were not stinging any more and there was padding underneath her drawers. However her legs seemed to have turned to jelly and she felt cold. She shivered as she rinsed her hands and face at the washstand and was grateful to sink back on the couch and under her blanket. The old woman was busy at a small dresser full of tiny glass bottles and stoneware pots. She brought over a small thick glass full of a cloudy liquid.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s something to help you get better.’

  ‘Th-thank you,’ she mumbled, taking the draught.

  The old woman watched her swallow the bitter liquid. ‘Annie Brown called you Daisy. That’s a pretty name.’

  Daisy managed a smile, but all she wanted to do was lie down and close her eyes …

  She drifted in and out of sleep, aware of the old woman tending to her sore skin with ointments and mixing potions for her to drink. Sometimes Annie was there helping her to sit up and drink. She brought her soup and bread, eggs cooked in butter and fresh water. Daisy was aroused by snatches of conversation.

  ‘How did she get here?’ the old woman asked.

  ‘Her brother brought her. He’s an itinerant on Home Farm.’

  ‘She’s a vagrant, then.’

  Daisy realised that she was just that. She was homeless and without a position or means. They’ll send her to the workhouse! Where was Boyd? She tried to sit up and mumbled, ‘Is it Sunday yet? I have to get dressed for church.’

  Annie came over and gave her some water. ‘You’ll not be going this week, ducks.’

  ‘But I have to be – better – for – Sunday, church – on – Sunday—’ Daisy drifted into fog again.

  She was aware that she felt well as soon as she opened her eyes. They were sitting at the table watching her, Annie and the old lady.

  ‘She’s awake.’

  ‘Is it Sunday yet?’ Daisy asked.

  Annie answered. ‘Sunday’s been and gone, love.’

  Daisy sat up alarmed. ‘I’ve missed church! What’s happened to Boyd!’

  ‘Calm down. Your brother came looking for you in the servants’ quarters.’

  ‘You didn’t tell him I was poorly, did you? He’ll only worry.’

  ‘Aye well, he knows you’re in good hands. They’ve sent him off with a gang to yon side of the estate so you won’t be seeing him ’til the harvest is in.’

  ‘Oh, but that’s weeks away. Where is my gown? I have to go with him.’

  ‘No, you don’t. He asked us to find you summat here. Well, his overseer did. So, you’ve a few more days up here keeping Mrs Potter company, then I’ll find out what you can do for us in the servants’ hall.’

  ‘You’ll give me a position here?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ Annie stood up and picked up an empty tray. ‘Ta-ra for now.’

  When Annie had left, Mrs Potter said, ‘Come to the table and eat this porridge. I want you to tell me about the whippings you’ve had.’

  Daisy hesitated. But she was hungry so she wrapped the blanket around her and staggered to the table.

  Mrs Potter was bent and wizened but her mind was alert. ‘You’ve scars and scabs as well as fresh wounds,’ she said. ‘What did you do to get them?’

  Embarrassed, Daisy looked down into the porridge. ‘I tried ever so hard to please them but the more I did, the more they found fault with me. I did work hard, I promise.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I couldn’t do anything right.’

  ‘Where were you in service?’

  ‘I wasn’t in service. I helped my mother keep house.’

  ‘Your mother did this to you?’ Mrs Potter seemed genuinely shocked.

  ‘Well, no. She – she – remembered every single thing that I did wrong and told Father when he came in from work. He – he did the whippings. He said it was for my own good. He said I had to learn.’

  ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child. It’s a father’s task to discipline his offspring. But these were harsh beatings. You must have been a wicked child.’

  ‘Father said I was disobedient.’

  ‘Did you go off with lads and let them kiss you?’

  ‘No! I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere except with Boyd. He didn’t know about the whippings because he’s slept in the shed since he was ten. But this time Father made him watch – and – and, well, Boyd stopped him. He snatched the whip off him.’ She paused and swallowed. ‘We ran away after that.’

  Daisy stifled a shiver of apprehension as she thought about her father. She thought he had taken pleasure in whipping her and she dreaded being sent back to him. She wished Boyd were here with her now.

  Daisy stayed another two nights with Mrs Potter. Mrs Potter taught her to play cards and Daisy tidied her collection of remedies. She wiped clean the containers and placed them in alphabetical order on the marble-topped dresser. She wrote new labels for some in her neat handwriting and learned something of their uses. On the second day, the under-housekeeper brought up breakfast and stayed to ask questions.

  Daisy stood with her hands by her sides.

  ‘Is she better, Mrs Potter?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  The housekeeper turned to Daisy. ‘Have you any money to go home?’

  Daisy tried not to show her alarm. ‘I can’t go back there!’

  ‘Well, you can’t stay here until your brother gets back from the harvest.’

  ‘But Annie – I mean Mrs Brown, said I—’ Daisy stopped. Annie had not actually promised her anything.

  Mrs Potter came to her rescue. She lowered her voice and said, ‘She had to leave home because—’ The old lady crooked a finger and the housekeeper bent down closer to listen. But Daisy heard what she said right enough. ‘Her father did things to her, you know. That’s why her brother fetched her away.’

  The housekeeper seemed overcome by this. ‘Oh! Oh
! Poor little lass! She’s not – not – you know?’

  Daisy wondered what Mrs Potter was playing at. She opened her mouth to explain but was silenced by a raised hand from the old woman who said, ‘We’ll all say no more about it. These things are best forgotten.’

  The housekeeper had her hand held on her chest, her mouth was open and she was looking at a blank wall muttering, ‘The brute. He wants stringing up.’

  Daisy raised her eyebrows and received a tiny smile and a nod from Mrs Potter who was continuing, ‘Aye well, just as long as you don’t say nothing to nobody about it, ma’am. But the lass can read and write and she picks things up quickly.’

  ‘Really? Brown has said she would be prepared to take her. What do you think?’

  ‘I don’t think she’ll disappoint but,’ Mrs Potter lowered her voice, ‘you tell Annie Brown to keep a special eye on her, though, until her brother gets back.’

  ‘Oh, I shall. She’ll have to find her a uniform for a start.’

  Daisy’s spirits were raised and she thanked Mrs Potter and vowed to repay her somehow, someday. She clattered down the interminable wooden stairs through doors and passages, past store rooms and kitchens with steaming boilers and scurrying cooks and maids, to the outbuildings that housed the lowliest of the Abbey’s servants.

  The under-housekeeper found Annie pushing dirty linen into a canvas bag for the laundry.

  ‘Higgins will be in your brigade as an under-housemaid until her brother returns. Keep a close eye on her, Brown. She has no testimonial so make sure she learns everything proper and don’t let her set foot in the Abbey without my permission.’

  Annie grimaced at Daisy who smiled and said, ‘Thank you for helping me that night, Annie. I had a fever but I’m better now.’

  ‘Aye, you look a bit livelier today. There’s a uniform laid out on your bed in the dormitory. Then come and help me lay up the table for our dinner.’

  Daisy hurried away feeling that her luck had changed. The grey gown gave her a sense of belonging and if she worked really hard Annie might find her a permanent position. How fortunate they would be if Boyd was taken on at Home Farm too! She laid out her own gown to brush and sponge in readiness for church and skipped off to help Annie. Daisy watched Annie carefully when she showed her what to do and determined to be the best under-housemaid Annie had ever had.

  ‘I heard you had a hundred servants here,’ Daisy commented as she helped serve up the dinner from a big iron pot. She carried the steaming plates of mutton and barley with cabbage to the table and her mouth watered.

  ‘You heard right,’ Annie answered. ‘As well as the maids we have the footmen and kitchen brigade, the gardeners and gamekeepers, the grooms and stable lads, and when we have visiting parties they bring their own servants with them and I have to keep the servants’ hall up to scratch for all of them.’

  As Daisy became more familiar with the layout she realised that the servants’ hall was not, as she had imagined, some vast chamber but a collection of rooms and buildings where the servants ate and relaxed when they had the time. She quickly learned that where you ate your dinner identified your position and whether you were employed indoors or outdoors.

  Annie Brown and her brigade of under-housemaids ate together in the low stone building where Daisy had arrived. They sat around a large old kitchen table while Annie doled out ladles of stew and vegetables and carved up slices of steamed pudding on a dresser. Daisy ate hungrily and talked to the girl next to her.

  ‘What day is it?’

  ‘Thursday.’

  Three days to Sunday, Daisy thought. Boyd wouldn’t be there yet, but eventually he would return. ‘Where do you go to church?’ she asked.

  ‘I go home to me mum and dad when I have my half day on a Sunday off. But most others walk to the village. There’s a shortcut across the park. You can see the spire from Home Farm.’

  Annie overheard and interrupted, ‘You get one half day off a month, Daisy. But you won’t get yours until you’ve worked a month and earned it.’

  Daisy’s face fell. If Boyd didn’t get the same half day off they might never see one another!

  ‘Don’t look so miserable, lass. If there are no house guests you’ll be free after four on a Sunday to go to evensong.’

  ‘Do you have many house guests?’

  ‘Enough to keep us busy! Lord Redfern is too old to join in too many house parties these days but he still has them. Nobody ever dreamed he would live this long. He soldiers on, though.’

  ‘Oh.’ Daisy listened as the other servants bantered about how rich his lordship was and how miserable too, with no wife and no family to speak of.

  ‘Now then, lasses,’ Annie warned. ‘He has his ward, Master James.’

  ‘Have you ever seen him?’

  ‘He’s away at school,’ Annie said.

  ‘Schools are closed for the harvest and the shooting, aren’t they?’

  ‘Well, I expect he’s gone to stay with friends.’

  ‘I might have seen him,’ Daisy volunteered. ‘How old is he?’

  ‘Seventeen or eighteen, I believe,’ Annie replied.

  ‘Oh, same as me.’ It could have been him, Daisy thought. The horseman she had seen when she had arrived might have been him, but, dressed in the finery of a gentleman, he had seemed older than she was.

  Daisy quickly settled into a routine under Annie’s watchful eye and after a fortnight her long working day was lifted by a message from Boyd to say he was well and had heard that she had recovered from her fever. She asked Annie for paper and ink to write him a note but neither were available to her and she returned his good wishes with her own. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing and she looked forward to when the harvest was in and she would see him again.

  Her weeks were full and she enjoyed being part of Annie Brown’s family of servants’ servants. Her hands and nails took on all sorts of colours when the Abbey gardeners brought in barrow-loads of produce and Daisy was allocated to a scullery to pick over and prepare it. Sweet sickly aromas of fruit preserves in high summer gave way to a September air filled with boiling vinegar that made her head spin. On her visits to church she met dairy maids, scullery maids, kitchen maids, house maids. So many maids, there seemed to be one for every household task. It was a very large church with grand stained-glass windows and an ancient rector. The maids sat in pews quite separate from the gardeners and stable boys.

  Daisy’s excitement bubbled as September wore on and evening shadows lengthened. Disappointingly, Boyd returned to Home Farm the week after her half day off but she hoped to see him at the end of the month.

  ‘We’ll get our quarter pay on Michaelmas Day,’ Annie explained. ‘Then there’s the harvest festival. But after that it will be hard work in the Abbey because his lordship still has shooting parties and hunts when gentry from all over visit.’

  * * *

  The Abbey was the largest house Daisy had ever seen, bigger even than the collection of brewery buildings all put together. She saw it only from the rear but it stretched for half a mile from east to west and had underground passages for the servants to get from one end to the other.

  ‘I don’t understand why his lordship needs such a big house to live in,’ she remarked.

  ‘Royalty, me ducks,’ Annie told her. ‘We have dukes and duchesses to visit regular for the balls and the hunting. The chambers are huge – you’ll see for yourself when you go inside.’

  ‘Me? Go inside the Abbey? When?’

  ‘We all go in for our quarter day pay. You won’t get much but come the winter solstice you’ll get more. It’s right handy that quarter, coming just before the Christmas festival. I’ll keep yours safe until you decide how you want to spend it.’

  Annie had a strong box where she put her maids’ money for safe keeping. She noted the amounts in her account book and each maid signed her name against it or put a cross if she couldn’t write. Every Sunday morning, those who had a half day off lined up for coins
to take with them home to their parents. Two of the older women, when it was quiet one afternoon in the week, took some of their money and walked into Redfern Village to spend on ribbons in the drapers. Daisy looked forward to coppers of her own to spend in the village shops.

  Chapter 20

  The day before Michaelmas, Daisy spent her free time in the afternoon brushing her gown and polishing her boots so she would look her best to collect her pay. She wished to make a good impression and had kept by a clean cap and apron to wear. On the day, Annie’s maids filed past Annie who inspected the appearance of each and nodded, or made a comment and sent her back. Daisy followed the line of servants through the kitchen passages, up a flight of stone steps and through a wide swinging door into the Abbey proper. They shuffled forward slowly on stone flags down a dark wood-panelled corridor. As Daisy was the newest addition to Annie’s brigade she was last, followed closely by Annie herself.

  A succession of men, young and old, passed them in the opposite direction clicking the coins in their hands. One of them, a brawny fellow in riding breeches and with a spring in his step, stopped to exchange a word with a woman near the front of the queue. The girl next to Daisy turned round and said, ‘Did you see that? Old bossy boots has a follower!’ and the others began to whisper and giggle. Daisy didn’t know the woman well and was quite scared of her because she often checked her work instead of Annie and was very strict about it being just right.

  ‘Quiet!’ Annie’s strong voice came from behind Daisy’s head. The brawny fellow smiled and was nudged along by the man behind him.

  Daisy thought it was nice for her if she did have a follower and began to think of her differently. As she moved towards the open double doors she was fascinated by the chamber in front of her and craned her neck for a better view. There were high stone arches down one side and a vaulted decorated ceiling similar to the one in the church. The walls were covered with wooden panels and the floor – Daisy passed the sole of her shoe over the surface – the stone floor felt more like marble and was laid out in a pattern of light and dark squares. A few pieces of heavy carved furniture stood by the walls. The room was lit by large sash windows that had long velvet drapes held back by tasselled cords. From the middle of the ornate ceiling hung an enormous wrought-iron chandelier filled with candles. If she wasn’t mistaken they were not tallow either, they were beeswax. She started to count them and work out how much they would cost.