Across a Summer Sea (21 page)
‘Doesn’t it look grand already,’ he’d commented with admiration.
‘Give me a few minutes to get washed and changed and I’ll set the table, Mrs Moran, then I’ll be out to help you,’ Mary said cheerfully. ‘Bridie, I think you’ve done enough for one day. Will you come in at eight o’clock in the morning? We’ll have a full day ahead of us.’
Bridie wiped her hands on her apron. ‘I will, ma’am,’ she replied grudgingly. She had to admit the place did look better, and Mary had certainly pulled her weight. But did she intend to keep this up or was it just to show a bit of willing? Well, she’d see what tomorrow would bring.
An hour later Mary in her black dress covered with the white frilled apron and with the cap over her neatly dressed hair, carried the tray into the dining room.
‘Good evening, sir,’ she greeted her employer cheerfully.
Richard O’Neill automatically stood up. His mind had been on other matters. He’d been reflecting on the meeting he’d had that afternoon with Peter Casey, a local man, which had left him with a great deal to think about and some important decisions to make.
He knew she had arrived and when he’d walked into the room, despite his preoccupations, he’d been aware of the changes she’d made. But he was surprised by her appearance. She looked as if she’d been in service in a big house all her life. He’d never expected her to look like this.
‘Good evening, Mrs McGann. You look very well. Have you settled in?’
‘Thank you, sir. I have indeed. If you will be seated I’ll serve the soup, unless you would prefer to serve yourself?’
‘Usually I do but tonight you may serve.’
She did so expertly although inwardly she was very nervous.
‘I thought you said you had no experience, Mrs McGann?’
‘I haven’t but I learn very quickly.’ She set a small dish of bread rolls on the table and moved the claret jug to within his reach. ‘If you would ring when you’ve finished, sir, I’ll clear your dishes. Mrs Moran said to inform you that it’s roast mutton with parsnips and carrots and potatoes.’
‘Thank you, Mrs McGann.’ He watched her as she left the room. Had he at last found someone who would suit him? He hoped so. He was sick and tired of living in a badly run house, but he knew he was not easy to work for. He wondered how she would cope with the strict code of work and isolation he insisted upon. Mrs Moran, Sonny and young Bridie knew him well and he trusted them. But could he trust her? Only time would tell.
She was a very beautiful young woman, he mused, and he wondered just why she and her husband had failed to get on to such an extent that she had left Liverpool and travelled so far with her family. Still, it was no concern of his. As long as she did her job, asked no questions, did not mix with the local people and kept her children under control it didn’t matter about her background or her personal life.
Chapter Fourteen
F
OR THE NEXT WEEK Mary worked non-stop. She missed the children terribly: they’d never been parted before, not even for a night. But the heavy housework took her mind off her worries about them. Despite the bitter cold, she was up before six o’clock on her first morning and had the fire in the kitchen range burning brightly and the kettle boiling before Mrs Moran appeared.
OR THE NEXT WEEK Mary worked non-stop. She missed the children terribly: they’d never been parted before, not even for a night. But the heavy housework took her mind off her worries about them. Despite the bitter cold, she was up before six o’clock on her first morning and had the fire in the kitchen range burning brightly and the kettle boiling before Mrs Moran appeared.
‘Aren’t you the early riser, Mary, and isn’t it grand to come into a warm and tidy kitchen. It makes a change, I can tell you. I’m not as young as I used to be and the damp in this place would chill you to the bones,’ she said.
By twenty past eight there was still no sign of Bridie and Mary was about to go and look for her when the girl sidled into the kitchen.
‘Bridie, I particularly asked you to be here by eight o’clock so we could make an early start.’
‘Me da wanted his breakfast,’ Bridie muttered.
Mary sighed. ‘Then why didn’t you tell me that yesterday? Of course you had to see to him first.’
The girl shrugged and darted a look at Mrs Moran.
Mary decided not to press the matter too hard this morning. ‘Well, tomorrow morning we’ll make it half past eight. Does that suit?’
Bridie nodded reluctantly.
After they had all had their breakfast and Mary had washed up, she put Bridie to help Mrs Moran while she set the table for Mr O’Neill and duly served his breakfast. Then she changed and set to work on the hall. She was on her hands and knees scrubbing the flags, after having thrown all the rugs into a heap on the doorstep, when Sonny came in with the turf baskets.
She sat back on her heels and glared at him. ‘Sonny, do you think you could bring those in the back way and not be traipsing the muck and mud of the yard in on my clean floor? And you’re leaving a trail of turf dust behind you.’
He set down the baskets. ‘Sure, I always bring them in this way, it’s quicker.’
‘Well, from now on bring them in the back way. It’s no wonder those expensive rugs are destroyed altogether and while I think on it, do you think you could do something to clean up that yard? It’s not fitting for a gentleman to have the entrance to his home like a stableyard and a not very clean one at that.’
He looked at her with astonishment. ‘Himself has never complained about it before!’
‘Then he should have. It’s a disgrace.’
‘Begod, Mrs McGann, you have some strange ways of going on.’
She smiled at him. ‘I know. We’re strange people in Liverpool. If it’s any consolation, I won’t be allowing my children to use the front door either.’
‘And will I tell Bridie to come in the back way, too?’
‘I’d be grateful if you would and she’ll see the sense in it if she’s to get down on her knees and scrub this floor once a week.’
After that everyone, except Richard O’Neill, used the back door and the yard had been tidied up considerably.
Bridie arrived on time the following morning and Mary greeted her pleasantly. Between them they gave every room a thorough clean: dragging furniture into the centre of the room; taking down pictures and curtains; cleaning and polishing oil lamps, fenders, ashpans and fire-irons. Windows were cleaned, rugs taken out and given a good beating, bedding washed or aired. Because Mary did indeed work as hard as Bridie herself and wasn’t overly domineering or demanding the girl began to feel a grudging respect for the older woman. Maybe things wouldn’t be too bad at all. For the first time in many months fires were lit in every room that had a fireplace.
‘Himself won’t like it. It’s a desperate waste of turf,’ Sonny complained.
‘I’m not saying light them all every day, that
would
be a waste. Just now and then to keep a bit of heat in the place and some of the damp at bay. It’s as cold as charity in those upstairs rooms. Surely he can’t complain about
that
?’ she replied.
would
be a waste. Just now and then to keep a bit of heat in the place and some of the damp at bay. It’s as cold as charity in those upstairs rooms. Surely he can’t complain about
that
?’ she replied.
Of an evening, although she was bone weary, she sat in the kitchen with Mrs Moran and occasionally Sonny and Bridie, and attacked the mound of mending and darning. Some of the curtains and bedspreads, although originally of good quality, were so old and had been so neglected that they were almost beyond repair but she refrained from saying anything for fear she would be accused of even more extravagance.
Apart from mealtimes she saw very little of her employer. She was aware of him going in and out of the front door and occasionally heard him calling to Sonny in the yard, and once or twice she heard the sound of his horse’s hooves as he departed from the house, returning later in the evening.
By Thursday she was exhausted, but buoyed up at the thought of seeing the children the next day. She was surprised that evening when, as she cleared away the dinner dishes, her employer signalled her to sit down.
She sat tentatively on the edge of an upright chair that was set beside the fire.
‘You are indeed a hard worker, Mrs McGann. I don’t miss much of what goes on here and your efforts have not gone unnoticed. The whole place is far cleaner and more . . . cheerful than it has been for a long time, although I have to say I would urge caution in lighting fires in some of those rooms on the upper storeys.’
‘I thought it necessary, sir. To try to air the place,’ she replied deferentially.
‘I’m not complaining about the amount of turf, despite what Sonny might say, it’s the chimneys. Some of them are in desperate need of sweeping not to say some repair, and could easily catch fire.’
‘I’m sorry, sir. I had no idea. If you could let me know which ones are actually dangerous I’ll avoid lighting the occasional fire. I’ll make arrangements for the others to be swept.’
He nodded. ‘I’d be obliged if you could let me know when the sweep is expected and I’ll be away from home. The mess is unbelievable.’
‘I will indeed, sir.’ She looked down at her hands, wondering when he would dismiss her. She had the children’s beds to make up and still more mending to do.
He regarded her thoughtfully over the rim of his claret glass. She looked tired and no wonder, she must have worn herself out entirely, the amount of work she seemed to have got through. Mrs Moran had sung her praises highly and informed him that she had even managed to get a hard day’s work out of Bridie. Most astonishing of all had been the sight of Sonny cleaning the front yard. He had been highly amused to be told that these days only he himself was allowed to use the front door or Mary McGann would have all their guts for garters!
‘Your children are arriving tomorrow?’
‘They are, sir, and I assure you they will be no trouble. You will neither see nor hear them. They will be allowed only in our rooms and the kitchen.’
‘Indeed? Will they not need somewhere to play?’
‘There is the back yard and there are plenty of fields and woods around the place. Katie will help me with some of the lighter chores and Tommy can learn to be of use to Sonny. I thought he could perhaps fish in the river.’
‘Of course. And the other one?’ he enquired, remembering she had three but not quite sure if it was a boy or a girl.
‘Lizzie has some difficulties. I should have mentioned that she was born both deaf and dumb, although she has spirit and Katie is good with her.’
A look of pity crossed his face. ‘Poor child.’
Mary was surprised by his gentler tone of voice. ‘She is happy enough, sir. I have always done my best for her - for all of them.’
He leaned forward across the table. ‘Unless of course you have traits of character of which I am as yet unaware, I am thinking that your husband must be a very foolish man.’
Mary blushed and picked an imaginary thread from her apron. ‘
I
think he is. I did nothing wrong in any way. I always worked hard. I was thrifty. He was well looked after.’
I
think he is. I did nothing wrong in any way. I always worked hard. I was thrifty. He was well looked after.’
‘He has work?’
‘Yes. Most of the time. He works on the docks. Liverpool is a very busy port.’
‘I am aware of that.’ He decided he could not question her more closely but he believed her. Her honesty was transparent. ‘Thank you, Mrs McGann. If there is ever anything you need to discuss with me, please don’t hesitate to do so. You have everything you need?’
Thankful that she was at last able to go, Mary rose. ‘I do, thank you, and everyone has been very kind and helpful.’
‘Good. Then you may go.’
She inclined her head and picked up the tray. To her surprise he rose and opened the door for her.
‘Thank you, sir, and goodnight.’
As she walked down the passageway towards the kitchen she wondered again why he had found it so difficult to keep a housekeeper. He seemed both polite and thoughtful.
When the dishes had been done, she banked up the fire before going to make up the beds for the children. Afterwards, she returned and picked up yet another pair of worn and frayed curtains from the pile in the corner. But before she could thread her needle, Mrs Moran placed two glasses and a bottle of sherry on the table.
Other books
This Perfect Kiss by Christie Ridgway
Arena of Antares by Alan Burt Akers
Solitaire, Part 3 of 3 by Alice Oseman
Enemy in Blue by Derek Blass
Coffeehouse Angel by Suzanne Selfors
Ripples by Patricia Scanlan
Ann of Cambray by Mary Lide
La reina suprema by Marion Zimmer Bradley
The Hunt for Dark Infinity (The 13th Reality #2) by James Dashner
