by Lesley Eames
The Situations Vacant pages of a newspaper were probably a good place to start her search for work. Lily bought a newspaper and found a bench where she could sit and read it. There were advertisements for shop workers, seamstresses, clerks, a watchmaker, a gardener, a window cleaner, a hotel porter, and travelling agents for the sale of remedies for the improvement of health, but no accommodation appeared to be offered alongside the jobs.
She turned to the domestic service column. An experienced ladies’ maid was wanted. A cook… A footman…
Lily set her sights lower on the job of live-in housemaid in Islington. There was an address to which applicants could write but exchanging letters would take time and returning for an interview would cost money.
At the bottom of the page was an advertisement for Mrs Pinkett’s Employment Agency, Specialist in the Placement of Domestic Staff. Hoping an agency might help her to find work sooner, Lily asked for directions from a passer-by and soon she was sitting opposite a middle-aged woman who wore her ample body like a comfortable cushion. ‘This is an excellent reference,’ Mrs Pinkett told her.
Lily hid a smile. Of course it was excellent. She’d written it herself.
‘So you’re a useful sort of girl. But rather young.’
‘I’m sixteen. I’m in good health and I don’t tire easily.’
‘A vacancy came in yesterday that might suit if you’re available immediately?’
‘I have to work two more weeks,’ Lily said. She wouldn’t leave Hilda to cope alone.
‘Pity, but I’m sure we have something else.’ She reached into a box on top of her desk. ‘It’s the war, you see. Girls are starting to turn their noses up at domestic service because they’re doing the jobs men used to do before going off to fight. Or they’re working in munitions factories. More money, more freedom.’
She pulled out a card. ‘This one’s promising. Housemaid in a house in Highbury, not far from here.’
‘Is it a live-in position?’
‘It is. The housekeeper is Mrs Daniels and I know she’s seeing applicants today. Let me write a note for her. You can take it straight round.’
‘What if she doesn’t offer me the position?’
‘Come back and I’ll see what else I can suggest. Good luck, Miss Tomkins.’
Six Highbury Row was a large, white-painted and rather elegant house though, like others she’d seen, the windows had been criss-crossed with strips of paper to stop the glass from flying about in the event of a Zeppelin attack. Lily paused outside the servants’ door, breathed in deeply and knocked.
‘Get that, will you, Ruby?’ she heard a voice call.
A maid a few years older than Lily opened the door.
‘I’m here to see Mrs Daniels,’ Lily explained. ‘I have a note from Mrs Pinkett.’
Lily was taken to a small room that appeared to belong to the housekeeper, a big, bustling woman. ‘I expect hard work from all the staff,’ she said. ‘We don’t carry slackers. I hope you’re stronger than you look?’
‘I may be slender but I work hard.’ Lily told her the sort of things she’d done at Beeches Mansions.
‘You’re with this Mrs Everett for another two weeks?’
‘I promised to stay that long and I wouldn’t like to go back on a promise.’
‘That’s a good attitude. All right. I’ll give you a chance.’
Lily was surprised it had been so easy.
‘This Mrs Daniels is lucky to have you,’ Hilda said, on Lily’s return. ‘You’ve made these past two years happier for me than I’d have thought possible.’
Lily wrapped her arms around her friend and they both had a little cry until Hilda laughed. ‘Look at us, shedding tears when there’s work to be done.’
The following weeks passed quickly. They spent the first week packing up the Everetts’ things then the Everetts drove away with the mistress too busy complaining to her husband about a problem with their new Edinburgh house to say goodbye to her staff.
After cleaning the house from top to bottom Lily and Hilda packed their own few things and parted with hugs and more tears. ‘Don’t forget to let me know how you’re getting on,’ Hilda urged. ‘And don’t stand for any nonsense in Highbury. You can always come to Marion and me in Hastings. Sea air will be better for you than dirty old London.’
Marion was leaving her job too and the sisters planned to stay in a guest house while they looked for a property to buy. Lily smiled. ‘Thank you so much. You’ve been a true friend.’
Lily knew good fortune had smiled on her in placing her with Hilda. Would she be lucky again?
She found a very different household in Highbury. The Sinclair family had four children still living at home. Victoria and Ellen were sisters of eighteen and nineteen, pretty girls who squabbled about which of them was prettiest and most attractive to men. James was seventeen and away at school most of the time while younger brother Albert attended a day school nearby. Mr Sinclair was something in banking, his wife a frighteningly fashionable lady who lunched, shopped and served on charitable committees.
It was a demanding household but at least there were more staff including a cook, scullery maid, ladies’ maid, and two housemaids, including Lily who was junior to Ruby. Lily and Ruby shared a bedroom but their interests were very different, Ruby being just as keen as the Sinclair sisters on fashion and young men.
‘You could be a pretty girl if you made more effort, Lily,’ Ruby told her. ‘You could do something about your figure too. Do you know you can send away for a potion that will increase your bosom?’
‘Thanks, but I’m happy with what I have.’
Ruby shook her head despairingly. ‘You should get your nose out of books and get a ring on your finger instead. Who knows what’s going to happen with this damned war? My friend, Alice, got married only for her man to die of wounds or something gruesome. But at least she got the chance to walk down the aisle and she’s getting a widow’s pension now.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ Lily said.
She didn’t go hunting for a man but she did visit Janet Flynn, the neighbour who’d been so kind when Gran was ill. It felt strange to be back in Jessy Street, so shabby at first sight but with a warm heart beating in its community, and it was lovely to see Janet and her ever-expanding brood. ‘Well!’ Janet said. ‘Haven’t you grown into a beauty?’
Lily laughed. She saw prettier girls every day. ‘How are you, Janet? How many children have you now?’
‘Nine. I would have had ten but little Silas caught the measles and…’ She shrugged sadly. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Lil, even if it’s only to say goodbye. We’re off to Liverpool. My Jack’s cousin has offered him a job and has a house lined up for us that’s twice the size of this one.’
‘I wondered about the boxes,’ Lily said, realising Janet had been packing. ‘I hope you’ll be very happy.’
Lily didn’t stay long but came away feeling glad that she’d had a chance to thank Janet for her kindness in those dark days.
*
With Lily settled in London, Elsie and Phyllis were keen to follow. They had no luck in getting work together but in time Phyllis was taken on as a housemaid in Islington and shortly afterwards Elsie met Lily to tell her she’d been offered a job in the kitchen of a house north of Primrose Hill. ‘I know it isn’t far from where Artie lives but I won’t let on that I know him if I pass him in the street,’ she said.
It disturbed Lily to hear someone put into words her own suspicions about how Artie might feel. ‘I’ll just wink at him,’ Elsie added.
Two weeks later all three girls met for an evening walk in the park known as Highbury Fields. The daylight hours were long now. ‘You know the first thing my new housekeeper said to me?’ Elsie asked.
‘Reach that jar down for me?’ Phyllis suggested.
‘It was a box but yes, that’s the gist of it. I reach things and peel things but I’m glad to be here in London.’
‘Your housekeeper’s nice, t
hough?’ Lily wondered.
‘She can be a dragon sometimes but at other times she’s all right. I just don’t think I’m made for domestic service.’
Lily still hungered for something different too though now she was in London and closer to Artie she didn’t feel she had to rush to identify what it might be. Besides, she owed it to her current housekeeper to stick to the job for a few months at least.
Artie came home for the summer and Lily was looking forward to seeing him. She had something to tell him, though, and wasn’t sure how he’d react. ‘You remember I wrote to you about Ruby, the housemaid whose bedroom I share?’ Lily asked as they walked around Highbury Fields.
‘Mad about fashion and men?’
‘She’s been dismissed because she was caught trying on one of the mistress’s dresses.’
‘Oh, dear.’
‘She wanted to leave anyway to earn more money in a munitions factory but it means I have to do some of her work, including dusting the drawing room photographs. One photograph is of James Sinclair in his school uniform. I’ve realised it’s the same as yours. Camfordleigh uniform.’
‘James Sinclair.’ Artie gave the name some thought. ‘He’s older than me. In a different house too. I hardly know him.’
Lily couldn’t gauge if the thought of having a sister as a servant in another Camfordleigh boy’s home embarrassed him because he’d turned away to look at a dog on the opposite pavement. It was a dachshund, the breed Artie called sausage dogs due to their long bodies and short legs.
‘Do you know dachshunds originally came from Germany?’ he asked. ‘I heard a story about one of the poor creatures being attacked. As if a dog could be responsible for the war!’
Lily had read of other attacks on shops owned by people with German-sounding names, even if those people had lived in Britain for most of their lives. It was madness.
Ever reluctant to force Artie to admit to awkwardness, Lily let the subject of James Sinclair drop.
The Sinclairs had taken a holiday so it wasn’t until their return that Lily actually met James. Not that she met him precisely as he didn’t acknowledge her existence. ‘Arrogant so and so,’ Lily muttered under her breath.
She couldn’t imagine Artie ignoring anyone that way no matter how uncomfortable the circumstances. He took Lily, Elsie and Phyllis to tea in a nearby café one afternoon and charmed them all. Then just before he was due to return to school he took Lily to Hastings.
The Tibbs sisters had bought a small cottage they were running as a guest house. It had only three bedrooms but the sisters shared one room so paying guests could use the others. Having coached more boys over the holiday Artie insisted on paying for Lily and him to stay overnight despite the sisters telling him no payment was required.
They had a wonderful time, the longest time they’d spent together since circumstances had torn them apart. Mostly they were with the sisters, but they also took a walk along the shingled beach by themselves, admiring the ruins of Hastings Castle to one side of them and the sea to the other. A long pier stretched out into the water and had an ornate pavilion on the end. ‘Apparently, it’s a theatre,’ Lily said.
It was impossible to be unaware of the war as there were soldiers from nearby training camps about. Lily wasn’t the only one who noticed them. Walking past two older men, she caught snatches of their conversation.
‘To think they said the war would be over by Christmas,’ one said, shaking his head.
‘They just didn’t say which Christmas,’ his companion pointed out.
Lily looked up at Artie. At sixteen he was tall, handsome and full of promise. She’d spent years worrying she might lose him to his education and new social circle. Now she had the war to worry about too. It terrified her to think the hostilities might continue long enough to draw him into them.
SIXTEEN
Autumn set in and spirits were mixed. Casualty lists in newspapers made for sombre reading and Artie wrote to say that two more Camfordleigh old boys had been killed, including a cousin of Fordyce. Now she was in London Lily sometimes saw soldiers on the street who’d clearly been badly injured. They had disfigured faces, missing limbs or sightless eyes due to the awful gas attacks she’d read about that not only seared their lungs but turned men blind as well.
Zeppelin raids continued to kill and injure civilians in London and elsewhere too. A bomb even fell near the Lyceum Theatre, killing seventeen people and injuring more. Artie wrote to suggest she leave London but Lily insisted on remaining so as to see more of both Artie and her friends.
She wasn’t allowed visitors at Highbury Row. Elsie and Phyllis weren’t allowed visitors either so they walked when they could but otherwise met over inexpensive cups of tea in cafés now the days were shorter, colder and wetter.
‘Have you seen this?’ Phyllis demanded, bursting into a café one day and throwing a newspaper onto the table. ‘The Germans have shot a nurse in Belgium. A nurse!’
Lily and Elsie shared the newspaper to read the story of British nurse, Edith Cavell. It was shocking to think of the death by firing squad of a woman who’d only wanted to help others.
‘No one is safe in this war,’ Elsie said.
They weren’t the only ones who were outraged by Nurse Edith’s death. More men volunteered to fight and, when he came home for Christmas, Artie reported that his favourite teacher, Mr Burrows, had been among them.
Again there was no Christmas party but Lily, Artie, Elsie and Phyllis met in a tea room near Piccadilly to exchange small gifts and eat fresh eggs. Such a treat these days! ‘Hopefully, everyone will get enough to eat now they’ve appointed a Food Controller,’ Phyllis said. ‘I’ve heard that some people are starving, especially out in the countryside.’
There was no get-together to celebrate the New Year either. They all saw 1916 arrive quietly and separately.
For all that men were still volunteering to fight for King and country, there weren’t enough of them and Artie hadn’t long been back at school when conscription was introduced. Men aged between eighteen and forty-one now had to join-up whether they wanted to or not.
This year Artie would turn seventeen. But there might still be peace long before he reached eighteen.
Reading of so much tragedy in the newspapers revived Lily’s wish to make the most of her own life. After all, she’d been at Highbury Row for a decent length of time now. It would be fair to move on – if she could find an opportunity. Lily still wasn’t sure what sort of opportunity she wanted, but she did know she didn’t want to work as a servant anymore.
On her next afternoon off Lily met with Elsie. It was a cold but dry day so they simply walked for a while as Elsie told her sad news about her housekeeper’s nephew. Harold hadn’t believed in war and wouldn’t fight as a matter of principle. He’d been given numerous white feathers by girls who called him a coward but it wasn’t his own death he feared. He just didn’t want to bring about anyone else’s. Eventually he’d volunteered as a stretcher bearer instead. He was killed within weeks of going to France.
‘Harold was her only nephew and she’s devastated.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Lily said. They were approaching Bax’s Bakery where they planned to buy penny buns.
There was a queue inside and the baker himself was serving instead of the usual girl.
He was a short, middle-aged man with the sort of drooping face and body that put Lily in mind of a sad-looking bloodhound she’d once seen pictured in a book.
‘What can I get you?’ he asked, when they finally reached the front of the queue. ‘Please don’t begin by complaining about the length of time you’ve had to wait. It couldn’t be helped.’
‘You’re short-staffed?’ Lily asked.
‘The girl who worked here left to drive an ambulance. Very laudable, but where does that leave the people who want their bread and buns?’
‘Are you looking for someone else?’
‘I am.’ He nodded towards the window and Lily saw he’d put
a card up, presumably advertising for help. She’d been too busy talking to Elsie to notice it before.
‘Are you interested?’ he asked.
‘I might be.’ Lily was aware of Elsie’s surprise but also felt a small stirring of excitement.
‘Ahem!’ The woman who was waiting behind them coughed impatiently.
‘I can see this isn’t a good time to talk,’ Lily said.
‘Come back at closing time and we’ll have a chat. Now, what can I sell you?’
Lily bought two buns. Hunched against the chill, she and Elsie ate them sitting in Highbury Fields. ‘Do you really want to work in a shop?’ Elsie asked.
‘That particular shop might be just what I’m looking for.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s a big shop with room for a few tables and chairs.’
‘A café, do you mean?’
‘Mmm.’
‘The baker only wants someone to serve in the shop.’
‘Perhaps he just hasn’t seen the shop’s potential.’
Elsie laughed. ‘Well, if anyone can turn it into a café, it’s you, Lily. There’s no harm in talking to him, I suppose.’
‘None at all.’
‘I doubt the job pays much, though. Not enough to cover the lodgings you’ll need if you leave service.’
‘True enough.’ Lily still wanted to speak to the baker.
She returned alone as he was putting a Closed sign on the door. He must have been baking since dawn and he looked exhausted.
‘Come into the back,’ he said, lifting a section of the counter so they could both pass through into the kitchen. It was a large room with a small table and two chairs in the corner. He sat down wearily and ran his hands over his downtrodden face.