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But now, as her head ached and her throat throbbed, she knew she must see the situation clearly. ‘If I don’t see you again’, had been the words that had shown her why, for it was obvious enough that her path and Mark’s were never likely to cross in the future.

There would be no point at all in thinking that she could ever be special to a man she would never meet, a man older than her who would have all kinds of interests and friends she could never share. To keep thinking about him was a piece of nonsense and could only lead nowhere, so take a stand, she told herself, stop thinking about him and think about what you want to do. Yes, about her future. That was what mattered.

Opening her eyes, staring at the whitewashed ceiling, Shona drew a long, heartfelt sigh. If only it were not so hard! To look into the future and to know, whether it contained a job or not, that it would not include Mark Lindsay.

‘Here we are!’ cried a voice at her bedside, and she opened her eyes to see Matron’s assistant, Nurse Lawson, bearing a bottle of something dark, a spoon and a small white pill box. ‘Now I’ve got all you need here, Shona. Sit up, then, you’re the last to have it; the others have all had theirs.’

‘I must have been asleep,’ Shona said, slowly sitting up.

‘And still dressed and in your shoes!’ Nurse Lawson clicked her tongue. ‘Shona, what were you thinking about?’

Better not say, thought Shona.

Twelve

As Dr Mark had prophesied, Shona did feel better after the weekend’s rest and within a few days had quite recovered her health, if not her spirits. Though she concealed this pretty well, Cassie still asked her if she was feeling ‘a wee bit low?’ Miss Bryce had announced that she would soon be interviewing all leavers about their prospects. Maybe Shona was worrying about what she’d say?

‘No, why should I be worrying?’ Shona retorted.

‘Well, I bet you’re going to get into an argument with her, about going into service, eh?’ Cassie gave a small shrug. ‘If you do, she’s sure to win, ’cos you’ve nothing else in mind, have you?’

‘I’m going to state my views,’ Shona said loftily. ‘I’ve got the right to do that.’

‘Oh, dear, sounds like trouble.’

‘There’ll be no trouble, Cassie. I’ll be as polite as can be.’

‘At least your birthday’s after mine, so she’ll see me before you. I’ll tell you how I get on.’

‘Cassie, I know how you’ll get on, unless you do what I’m going to do and tell her you want something different from service.’

‘No, thanks!’ cried Cassie. ‘It wouldn’t be true, anyway. I’ll be happy if she finds me a nice place where I can feel at home.’

Sighing, Shona said no more, but was glad to find that the thought of making her point with Miss Bryce had, oddly enough, cheered her up. Maybe it was true, what folk said: that if something occupied your mind, it stopped you brooding on other things. Who would have thought that Miss Bryce could exclude Mark Lindsay from her mind, then? The truth was that her birthday was coming ever closer and with it the reality of leaving Edina Lodge. The future that she’d thought so much about would actually be upon her, and she’d have to have something worked out. Much would depend, of course, on what Miss Bryce said, and whether she would come up with any suggestions.

‘Roll on our interviews,’ she said to Cassie firmly. ‘Let’s know what we’re doing, eh?’

‘Can’t wait,’ Cassie answered fervently.

In late May Miss Bryce began her interviews, Cassie being one of the first to be called. As soon as Shona saw her later that day, when they were in the kitchen at teatime, ready to carry in sausages and mash, she knew at once that Cassie was happy.

‘Oh, Shona,’ she whispered, her blue eyes shining, ‘it’s so lovely! Miss Bryce has a list of places willing to take us orphans as maids, and when I told her I wanted to work with a big staff and get to know folk, she picked out just the place!’

‘That right?’ asked Shona, wrapping a cloth round a hot dish of mashed potato. ‘So where is this wonderful place?’

‘The Hermitage. That’s past Morningside, you ken, where there’s the Hermitage Burn, and then you get to the Braid Hills golf course. Miss Bryce showed me on the map.’

‘Very grand, then. You got the sausages?’

‘Aye, it’s grand, all right, the people are very well to do.’ Cassie, her face flushed from the heat of the kitchen and her own excitement, was following Shona into the dining room bearing a huge platter of sausages, one of several to be placed on the top table, now used for self-service – Miss Bryce’s latest idea – where a queue was already forming.

‘Here they come!’ cried Archie Smith, pushing people out of the way so that the girls could set down their burdens. ‘Make way, let the lassies get through!’

‘No need to push folk like that!’ Mr Glegg shouted at him, but Archie, tall, cocky and looking ready to leave for work already, only grinned.

‘Sorry, sir!’ he cried. ‘Only trying to help, but the lassies have to get back for more sausages, you see.’

‘I’m bringing ’em in now!’ Mavis Maxwell called, carrying in another great platter. ‘Honestly, the fuss you laddies make about sausages—!’

‘Our favourite!’ one of the boys said. ‘Should have ’em every day!’

It was some time before Cassie and Shona could sit down for their own meal and Cassie was able to say more about her new place.

‘Seemingly, Shona, it’s a wealthy businessman who’s the owner of this house in Hermitage Circle, and then there’s his wife and three children, all at school. There’s a butler and two footmen, a cook and kitchen staff, two parlour maids and three house maids – at least, there should be three, but one’s left, and that’s the job that’s going.’ Cassie, almost too excited to get her words out, paused to eat some mashed potato. ‘I’ll be an under house maid, but they give you training, you see, and then you can move up.’

‘And this job’s yours for definite, is it?’ asked Shona.

‘Well, they want to see me, but Miss Bryce says they’re willing to take me on her recommendation. They feel it’s the right thing to do, you ken, to help orphans get jobs.’

Shona was silent for a moment. ‘Should be all right,’ she said at last. ‘If it’s what you want. Big house, plenty of people to work with and get to know.’

‘And who’ll get to know me! I’ll have a home and all my meals, two print dresses a year and two black with apron and cap, and wages, of course.’

‘Did Miss Bryce say how much?’

‘No’ bad,’ Cassie answered carefully. ‘Twenty-six pounds a year. The going rate – maybe a bit more.’

‘Lucky you’ve got all found, as they say, or you wouldn’t have much to spend.’

‘You don’t need much. Oh, Shona, I think you should consider it – I mean, being in service. You’d be a parlour maid in no time!’

Not if I know anything about it, thought Shona, rising.

‘The others’ll be collecting these plates any minute – we’d better go and get the puddings, Cassie.’

‘Will you no’ think about it, then?’

‘I haven’t been told to see Miss Bryce yet.’

‘Your birthday’s next month. I reckon you’ll be called pretty soon. You’ll have to think out what you’re going to say.’

‘Leave that to me,’ Shona answered, wondering just when she would be called.

She didn’t have long to wait. Two days later she was asked to report to the superintendent’s office when she came home from school. Hastily combing her hair and straightening her dress, she caught Cassie’s arm.

‘Wish me luck,’ she whispered.

‘Och, you’ll no’ need it. You’ll be fine.’

Shaking her head, Shona made her way to Miss Bryce’s office and tapped on the door.

‘Come in!’ came the familiar, firm voice. And Shona went in.

Thirteen

There were the clear grey eyes fixed on her again, giving the impression, as they always did, that they could see right into her mind to read her thoughts. Everyone said that about Miss Bryce; it was never any use trying to hide things from her. But this time, just for once, she might be in for a surprise, Shona decided, for she would never expect one of her girls to refuse to go into service.

‘Come and sit down, Shona,’ Miss Bryce told her now, indicating the chair in front of her desk. ‘You’ll know why I want to see you, of course. Just a chat about your future.’

‘Yes, Miss Bryce, I know.’

‘I always like to talk to those leaving us to make sure they make the right choices. It’s very important that people are happy.’

Right choices? There were choices, then? Her eyes widening, Shona stared at Miss Bryce who, seeing her look, smiled a little.

‘Well, when I say choices, it comes down to choosing the most suitable places for those going into service – usually girls, but it can be boys, although they have the alternative of early entry into the army or navy. The council can’t afford to keep anyone longer than fifteen and it’s quite usual to start work at that age or, in fact, fourteen, so the extra year is a bonus.’

‘Except that some folk stay on at school and take the Leaving Certificate.’

Miss Bryce sighed. ‘You already know why that’s not possible here; I have explained it to you before. Everyone must leave at the end of the school term in which they reach fifteen. You’ve always understood that, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, Miss Bryce.’

‘Though people of fifteen are old enough to work, they still need support, which is provided in domestic service where all is found – food, clothing, shelter, and regular wages. The same, of course, goes for boys entering the services.’ Miss Bryce cleared her throat. ‘Now, I have here a list of vacancies in various types of household which I’d like to go through with you. Perhaps you’d like to read it first for yourself?’

‘I don’t think so, Miss Bryce.’

Shona, colouring to her brow, couldn’t believe that she had just said those words. Had it been her voice? Oh, Lordie, yes, it had been her voice, all right. Just look at Miss Bryce, staring.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Miss Bryce’s grey eyes fixed on Shona were as cold as a winter sky. ‘I beg your pardon,’ she repeated, ‘what did you just say?’

‘I said I didn’t think I should look at the list, as I don’t want to go into service.’

It was Miss Bryce’s turn to flush, with two red spots beginning to glow on her cheekbones. ‘I really can’t believe you are talking so foolishly, Shona. You don’t want to go into service? Haven’t I just explained the advantages?’

‘Yes, Miss Bryce, but I’d rather do something else. Train for something, maybe.’

‘And how do you propose to keep yourself while you do that? Agreed, it might be more rewarding, but it’s just not practicable. You have no family here, no one to stay with. You never hear from your aunt, do you?’

‘I’ve had one or two letters,’ Shona answered after a pause. ‘She said she was sorry she couldn’t see me but she’d keep in touch.’

‘And hasn’t? So, how do you think you might manage, then? I understand your mother’s friend can’t take you into her own home. Just where would you go?’

‘I’ve thought about it and I think I can get lodgings in the Dean. One or two people let rooms and don’t charge much. If I could find a job, I could afford to pay something. And I’ve got the money from my ma’s furniture.’

‘Oh, Shona, Shona! That money is to be saved, not frittered away!’ Miss Bryce was shaking her head, as though she was suddenly out of her depth, as though all her experience had never taught her how to deal with anyone like Shona. ‘Why can’t you see that domestic service would solve all your problems?’ she asked. ‘No one else has complained about it.’

Shona hesitated. ‘I think, if I went into service, I’d – I’d no’ be me any more.’

There was a silence in the room except for a clock ticking, and for some time neither Miss Bryce nor Shona spoke.

‘The fact is,’ Miss Bryce said at last, ‘that I and the council are responsible for you, Shona. You are what’s called a minor and we can’t just let you go from here into the city, where who knows what might happen to you.’

‘I’ll be all right, Miss Bryce. I’ll be near Mrs Hope, I’ll be near folk I know. There’d be no need to worry!’

‘Hmm, I wonder.’ Miss Bryce sat, turning a pencil in her fingers and considering. ‘Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If Mrs Hope could put you up temporarily and be sure to find you respectable lodgings, I’m prepared to let you go into her care. As to finding a job, I’d expect to be informed if you are successful. That is the best I can offer, and you must do as I suggest.’

‘Oh, I will, Miss Bryce, I will!’ Shona cried, her face radiant. Never had she imagined Miss Bryce could be so helpful, so understanding, even, and still could scarcely believe it. ‘Thank you. Thank you very much.’

Miss Bryce rose from her desk, her expression doubtful. ‘Try not to be too starry-eyed about this,’ she warned. ‘Everything depends on your mother’s friend, Mrs Hope. Are you sure she’ll be able to take you in temporarily?’

‘Oh, yes, she did before and she’ll want to, I know she will. And she’ll help me look for a job. I mean, she gets the paper with adverts and all.’ Shona’s heart was singing as she began to take in that things might really be changing for her, that she might really be going to get her way. ‘It’s my Saturday to see her this week; I can explain everything then.’

‘Very well, but I’ll also be writing to her, making sure she understands the situation.’ At the door, Miss Bryce’s face suddenly relaxed into a faint smile. ‘My goodness, Shona, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you? But you’re a bright girl and I’d like to see you succeed. I’ll wish you the best of luck for your future.’

It was Miss Bryce herself who was full of surprises, Shona thought, as she managed to get out another thank you and left the office. Who’d have thought she would have been so helpful? Just wait till Cassie heard!

Hurrying along to find Cassie, she was waylaid by Archie Smith, who put a beefy hand on her arm and asked how she’d got on. ‘Heard you were seeing Miss B today. What she find for you, then? Kitchen maid’s job?’

‘No fear!’ Shona retorted. ‘To tell you the truth, she was very helpful. I’m no’ sure yet what I’m going to do, but it won’t be domestic service, that’s for sure.’

‘Same for me.’ Archie gave a wide grin. ‘Know what she gave me? Choice o’ two jobs as boot boy: one in Perthshire, one in Aberdour. Boot boy! Me? If you work hard and keep out o’ trouble, you might move up to assistant footman if you’re lucky. I told Miss B no, thanks, no damned boot boy job for me.’

BOOK: Anne Douglas
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