by Lynn Austin
Mrs. Smith paused when they reached the steps leading up to Miss Audrey’s part of the house and gave Eve a stern look. “That’s enough, Eve. Go back to work.” Instead, Eve followed them up the stairs to the baize-covered door.
“Know why that door is padded and covered with cloth on our side?” Eve asked as Mrs. Smith opened it for Audrey. “So you and your family won’t hear us or smell us. Your side of the door is all carved and pretty and ours is plain. That’s how different your life is from mine.”
“Be quiet, Eve.”
“I’ll be your friend, Miss Audrey, if you want me to be,” Eve called after her. The door swung shut. Eve hurried back down to the scullery, knowing she was in trouble. She sank down on a wooden stool, determined not to cry, and waited for the telltale jingle of the housekeeper’s keys. It came soon enough.
“What am I going to do with you, Eve?” Mrs. Smith asked, folding her arms across her chest. She didn’t look as angry as Eve expected her to be.
“You’ll tell me to pack my things, I suppose.”
“You’re right—I should do that. But your mother is Lady Rosamunde’s personal maid. If I fire you, she’ll leave as well, and the missus would be frantic without her.” She studied Eve for a long moment, and Eve thought she detected sympathy in her eyes. “Imagine, telling Miss Audrey off the way you did! What were you thinking?”
How could Eve explain that she was only doing what Granny Maud used to do whenever Eve fell into a well of self-pity?
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what trouble comes down from above,” Mrs. Smith finally said. “I’m sure we’ll be hearing from Miss Blake or even Lady Rosamunde herself before too long.”
Eve returned to her chores, waiting for the sky to fall. If she had any regrets for what she’d said, they were for Mum’s sake, not her own. Mum might lose her job because of her.
Shortly before dinner one of the chambermaids brought Eve an envelope with her name printed on it. She dried her hands on her apron and tore it open, eager to get the bad news over with as quickly as possible.
Dear Eve,
I hope you didn’t get into trouble because of me. You were right. I was feeling sorry for myself. Thank you for the strawberries and for cheering me up. You are a very brave person.
Your friend,
Audrey Clarkson
Audrey heard Miss Blake’s familiar knock on her door—three soft, swift taps—before she bustled into the room. “It’s time to go down, Audrey. Are you ready?” She straightened the bow on Audrey’s dress and smoothed a loose curl that had fallen into her eyes. Mother would scold both Miss Blake and Audrey if her manners and appearance weren’t perfect. Miss Blake was in her late thirties, plump and pale and plain, a distant second cousin of Mother’s who had never managed to find a husband before falling on hard times. Even though her services as a governess were no longer needed, she remained a part of the household.
“No more tears, Audrey,” she said sternly. “Your mother won’t be pleased if you continue to cry and mope.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Let’s go. And mind your posture.”
Each evening when Audrey was home, she was required to go down to the drawing room with Miss Blake to speak with her parents for a few minutes before Mother and Father went through to dinner. Audrey had been planning what she would say ever since Eve showed her the scullery. She needed to be courageous. If Eve could work in that terrible cave all day, Audrey could face her parents in the drawing room. She would speak her mind without any tears, just as Eve had.
“I trust you’ve finished being dramatic and are ready to behave like a proper young lady again?” Mother asked when Audrey halted in front of her. Mother looked beautiful as she lounged on the sofa, her sequined gown sparkling like sunshine on water. A trail of smoke drifted from her long cigarette holder and floated toward the ceiling.
“Yes, Mother. I’m very sorry for the way I behaved.”
“I should hope so. You were an embarrassment to yourself, not to mention your father and me. A young woman your age shouldn’t cry and carry on in public the way you did or demand to be driven home.” She tapped a ribbon of ash into a nearby dish.
“I know. I’m sorry, Mother.” Audrey straightened her shoulders and pretended she was Eve as she prepared to speak her mind. “I have a request to make of you and Father.” He wore a dark tuxedo and crisp white shirt and stood with his back to them, looking through the window as he waited for his guests to arrive. He paid no attention to Audrey.
“A request?” Mother emphasized the word as if it were unusual. She seemed amused.
“Yes. Please consider how humiliating it would be for me to return to school after the other girls treated me so cruelly, and please allow me to remain home. I’m desperately unhappy there and would like to continue my education here with Miss Blake.”
“Desperately unhappy?” Mother echoed. She was mocking her, but Audrey kept her chin lifted, her tears at bay.
“Yes. My stomach aches all the time when I’m there. The pain gets worse every day.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Audrey.” Mother looked away.
“Please don’t make me go back there.” Her voice wobbled but she didn’t cry.
“You’re being childish and ridiculous.”
Father turned from the window to face them. “Don’t make her go if she doesn’t want to, Rosamunde.” His voice was gruff, but he was frowning at Mother, not at Audrey. “Do you want her to grow up to be as sickly as her aunt?”
“She can’t hide away here like a recluse. Audrey needs the company of other girls.”
“Not if they’re going to torment her. You may stay home, Audrey.”
“Thank you, Father.” She had been trying so hard not to cry but her father’s kindness threatened to undo her. She wished she could hug him. “I promise to study very hard with Miss Blake and do everything she asks.”
“Fine!” Mother stubbed out her cigarette as if she had a grudge against it. “But you will attend finishing school when you turn sixteen and I won’t tolerate any arguments.”
Audrey floated up the stairs, elated by her victory and her reprieve from boarding school. She wished she could tell Eve how brave she’d been. Audrey thought about Eve as she climbed into bed that night and was still thinking about her the next day as Miss Blake explained Lord Byron’s poetry to her. When it was time for afternoon tea, Audrey decided to take action. “Kindly ask Mrs. Smith to send up tea for three today,” she told her governess. “I would like to invite Eve Dawson to join us.”
“I don’t know any Miss Dawson. Is she from your school?”
“She’s one of the servants. Eve works in the scullery.”
“You cannot take tea with the scullery maid,” Miss Blake huffed. “It’s unheard of. Your mother will never allow it.”
“Mother doesn’t need to know. Eve was very kind to me yesterday when I was upset, and I would like to have tea with her to thank her.”
“I’ll need to speak with the housekeeper first.”
“I’ll go with you.” Audrey followed Miss Blake downstairs to the grand foyer to send for the housekeeper. The faint jingle of Mrs. Smith’s keys signaled her approach.
“Miss Audrey has asked to take tea with Eve Dawson. Do you know who she is?” Miss Blake asked.
If the request surprised the housekeeper, she hid it well. According to the household hierarchy, she and the governess functioned independently and were nearly equals—although Audrey thought that Miss Blake, who had her own private room on the second floor, was just a notch higher than Mrs. Smith. “Eve is the daughter of Lady Rosamunde’s lady’s maid. Ellen’s girl,” Mrs. Smith replied.
“I didn’t know Ellen was married, let alone had a daughter,” Miss Blake said. “I thought all of Wellingford’s servants had to be single.”
“Eve’s father died in the Great War.”
“Do you think she would be a suitable . . . guest . . . for Miss Audrey?”
“Eve is very hardworking and cheerful. Everyone downstairs likes her. I don’t believe it will do Miss Audrey any harm to take tea with her.”
It made Audrey’s stomach ache to hear them talking about her as if she weren’t there. She was tired of being treated like a child. “Wellingford Hall is my home,” she said. “I shall invite whomever I want for tea.” She felt very brave but the two women still ignored her.
“Are this scullery girl’s manners acceptable?” Miss Blake asked.
“I believe so. Her biggest fault is that she speaks her mind when she should remain silent.”
“Mrs. Smith!” Audrey said, gaining her attention. “Eve was right yesterday. I was feeling sorry for myself. I’m glad she spoke up. She isn’t mean like the girls at school. I insist on inviting her to tea.” The two women looked surprised, as if wondering how she suddenly had become so outspoken.
“Very well,” Miss Blake said. “Miss Dawson may take tea with us in the schoolroom this afternoon.”
Audrey squirmed with excitement later as she waited for Eve.
Eve arrived carrying their tea tray, while the maid who usually brought it coached her. “Take small steps, Eve. . . . Don’t walk too quickly. . . . Keep the tray level.”
Eve looked relieved when she finally set it down without spilling anything. “I did it,” she said with a grin. She wore the same baggy dress and stained apron as yesterday.
“Now, ask Miss Audrey if she would like anything else,” the maid prompted.
“Will there be anything else?” Eve asked with laughter in her voice. Her grin made Audrey smile.
“Yes. I would like you to sit and have tea with me. I owe you a picnic, remember?”
Eve’s surprise was only momentary. After a quick glance at the maid and then at Miss Blake, who was already seated, Eve pulled out a chair and sat. Audrey sat across from her and waited for the maid to arrange the plates and cups and napkins and cutlery. After pouring tea into each of their cups and setting a plate of tiny sandwiches on the table, and another with biscuits and fairy cakes, she took a step back.
“You may be excused,” Audrey told her. She could hardly wait to tell Eve how fearless she’d been. “I decided to do what you said, Eve. I decided to wash off the mud and change the way things are rather than sit in the puddle. I convinced Mother and Father to let me study here with Miss Blake from now on. Thank you for giving me the courage to speak up.”
“You’re welcome.” Eve looked pleased.
“Help yourself to a sandwich.” Audrey put two of them on her own plate, but Eve hadn’t touched any of the food or sampled her tea. She looked nervous.
“Are you sure this is for me?”
“Yes. The ones with cheese are my favorites.” She saw Eve look up at the governess before reaching for one of the sandwiches. Next time, Audrey would ask Miss Blake to let them take tea by themselves. “Did you mean it when you said you would be my friend?” Audrey asked.
“If they’ll let us.” She stared down at her plate as she ate.
“They will. It has already been decided. By me.” For some reason, Eve wasn’t her usual, cheerful self, and teatime quickly became awkward. No one seemed to know what to say. When the sandwiches were gone, Audrey turned to Miss Blake. “Would you mind terribly if Eve and I shared the fairy cakes in private?”
The governess didn’t reply. Audrey tried to read her expression and couldn’t tell if she was insulted or simply surprised. Miss Blake folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate before standing. “As you wish, Miss Audrey.”
“Who is she?” Eve asked after Miss Blake left.
“My governess. And she’s my teacher now that I’m not going to boarding school.”
“I’ve never seen her down in the servants’ dining room. Does she live here?”
“Her room is up here, with us.” Audrey didn’t want to talk about Miss Blake or any of the other servants. She leaned across the table. “Since you’re my best friend now, we need to tell each other secrets and share all the things we’d like to do someday.”
Eve’s grin returned. “Okay. But can I have another fairy cake first? I know I only gave you half a scone when I shared my lunch with you, but—”
“You may eat the whole plateful!” Audrey said, smiling. She pushed the plate toward Eve, then poured more tea into her cup. “If you had one wish, what would it be?”
“You already granted it with these cakes!” Eve said with a mouthful. “Tildy sometimes sneaks one of these to me if you leave leftovers from your tea, but I’ve never had two!”
And Audrey took these daily treats for granted. “What else would you wish for?”
“Are those all your lesson books?” she asked, pointing to the pile on Audrey’s desk. She nodded. “I wish I could learn interesting things instead of scrubbing all day.”
“I’ll be happy to share my books with you. Maybe you can come upstairs for a few minutes every day and let Miss Blake tutor you, too.”
Eve stared at her lap, twisting her napkin.
“What’s wrong?” Audrey asked.
When Eve looked up, her smile seemed forced. “Nothing. Now it’s your turn to tell me what you’d wish for.”
Audrey didn’t hesitate. “I wish I were as brave as you. You have so much courage.”
Her answer seemed to amuse Eve. “What would you do with your courage once you had it?”
“Well . . . my brother wants to teach me to sail Father’s boat this summer.” A shudder rippled up Audrey’s spine at the very thought of it. “I don’t want to let him down, but I’m afraid to go out on the open water, and it would be even more frightening without Father. I could never take the wheel myself.”
Eve rested her elbow on the table and propped her chin on her hand as if giving the matter some thought. Mother would be appalled. As for Audrey’s fears, Mother would roll her eyes and say, “Oh, for pity’s sake, Audrey.”
“Hmm . . . Sailing a boat would take a lot of courage,” Eve finally said. “Why don’t you start by doing things that are only a little bit scary and get braver gradually? Maybe you could make a list of things and check them off one by one.”
“I’m afraid of so many things, I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Eve laughed the same joyous way she had laughed in the woods the first time Audrey met her. “I think I know one! Remember those beetles the girls put in your bed? I can bring you some dead ones from the scullery so you can get used to them.”
Audrey shuddered as she forced a smile. “That would be very kind of you.”
“It will be our secret. Now, I’ll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell anyone.”
Audrey tried to recall the ritual Eve had taught her. She placed her hand over her heart and said, “Cross my heart and hope to die. I swear by my very life not to tell.”
Eve leaned close and said, “I’m learning to drive an automobile! Williams, your driver, is teaching me.”
“Why do you want to do that?”
“Because I don’t have people to drive me everywhere like you do, and there’s someplace I want to go.”
“Where?”
“To London. I want to put flowers on the tomb of the Unknown Warrior. He might be my father, you know.”
Audrey couldn’t imagine such a thing. But Eve was her best friend and she could see this was important to her. “I have an idea,” Audrey said. “We always close up Wellingford Hall and go to our London town house for the Season from April until June, and—”
“I know. My mum has to go with yours and I don’t see her for three whole months. Mrs. Smith says the rest of us have to scrub Wellingford Hall from top to bottom while you’re away.”
Audrey waved her hand to erase Eve’s words. “No, listen. I’ll ask Mrs. Smith if you can work at the town house. Then we could visit the tomb together.”
“Do you think they’ll let me?”
“Maybe . . . if I ask . . .” Audrey didn’t know where she would get the courage—
but the longing on her friend’s face made her determined to try.
After that first tea date, Audrey made sure Eve was invited upstairs for tea at least once a week. Little by little, Audrey’s courage grew, especially after Eve delivered two dead beetles for Audrey to hold. Eve paged through the schoolbooks after they’d taken tea and Audrey explained Miss Blake’s lessons. Sometimes Eve took a book downstairs to read. Spending time with Eve made Audrey happier than she’d felt in her life. At last, she knew the joy of having a best friend.
“I’m not the scullery maid anymore,” Eve announced one afternoon, her voice high-pitched with excitement. “They hired a new one and made me the kitchen maid instead.”
“That sounds nice. What does a kitchen maid do?”
“I help Tildy all day, washing and chopping vegetables, peeling potatoes, and running to the storeroom whenever she needs something. I also get to stir things on the stove when she’s doing something else. It gets very busy down there, especially when your mother invites guests for dinner. Tildy yells at me and everyone else!”
“But no more cold, dark scullery?”
Eve laughed. “No. Now I get to work in a boiling-hot kitchen. I don’t know which is worse!”
Audrey didn’t understand how Eve could laugh at such terrible conditions. It made her ashamed to complain about anything.
“I have more good news,” Eve continued. “Tildy says she’ll need me to help her in London during the Season. Maybe I really will get to visit the Unknown Warrior’s tomb.”
“You will. I’ll take you there myself. I promise I will!”
Eve leaped up from her chair and surprised Audrey with a fervent hug.
4
LONDON, 1932
Audrey had barely arrived in London from Wellingford Hall when Mother summoned her to the town house’s morning room. The windows were closed against the drumming rain, and smoke from Mother’s cigarette hung heavy in the cramped room, stinging Audrey’s eyes and making them water. Mother lounged on her chaise near the window, as beautiful as a movie idol with her hair bobbed in the latest style. She was gorgeous, no doubt. Yet Audrey often wished for an ordinary mum with a worn dress and warm, welcoming arms. Like Eve’s mum.