Easterleigh Hall (24 page)

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Authors: Margaret Graham

BOOK: Easterleigh Hall
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When Lady Veronica had also left Evie emerged. Mrs Moore sat at the table, sighing. ‘I'm going to have to pass this teatime business over to you, Evie. I'm too tired. I need my rest especially with Christmas looming. Can you manage? Does Lady Veronica ever see you at the meetings? Will it be safe for you? Otherwise it must be Millie and I don't think the world is ready for that.'

Lady Veronica always sat at the front at the meetings, but nowadays with Lady Esther. They were trusted to be visiting Lady Esther's aunt, who was also a suffragette, unknown to the family. Lady Margaret Mounsey, who had launched herself at the police, was in prison, though her parents, friends of Lady Brampton, had moved swiftly to keep it out of the newspapers and away from their society friends. Lady Brampton thought Margaret was on tour with an aunt in Italy, or so Veronica told Auberon over tea. Was she hunger-striking? Evie baulked at the thought.

Lady Veronica had sent a note of deepest gratitude to Grace, thanking her and her friend for their help. That was all. She never looked in their direction when they were seated in the meeting hall. A new hat had cost Evie five shillings.

Evie gave Mrs Moore the list of provisions needed and hugged her. ‘She won't recognise me, we're invisible, aren't we? Let's not give them the chance of objecting, we'll just do it and I'll say that you're too busy preparing the menus for the Servants' Ball, and by the time that's over it will have become a pattern.'

In fact, Lady Veronica sent a message to Mrs Moore the next day that they would not be resuming their teatime treat until the new year, as the demands upon their time were too onerous. Mrs Moore screwed up the paper and put it into the coal bucket. ‘They've fallen out, more like, after that little spat yesterday. They'll get over it, brothers and sisters usually do. Now come on, girls, we have a lot of work to do.'

‘When haven't we?' Millie moaned.

By December the frosts were hard in the morning and at night, and Evie huddled under her blanket which was reinforced with her shawls and coat, but still the ice coated the inside of the windows. In the Forbes' house there were fireplaces which actually held fires, she had told Mrs Moore as they warmed themselves at the range. The traditional Servants' Ball was to take place on 4th December in the servants' hall and the family would attend, hopefully just for a few moments. Tension was rising above stairs now Asquith had announced that the forthcoming general election meant that he would be going to the country to get a mandate which would force the Lords to submit and approve the budget. It was causing the Bastard to huff and puff and almost blow the bloody place down.

Evie had lain in bed last night wondering whether the women's vote, if it had been granted, would help to produce a clear victory. Or would the majority vote with the Tories? Again she felt confused and was glad that work was so hectic that to worry about anything else was pointless.

In the two days before the ball they cooked as though there was no tomorrow, creating meals for upstairs as well as economical ones for the ball, funded with reluctance by Lady Brampton. It was something that employers were supposed to do, and some smiled and were gracious and gave over the use of the upstairs ballroom. The Bramptons didn't, and the funds provided were minimal, so the kitchen was grateful for the gifts of cream, eggs and steak from the surrounding farms, and half a pig from Home Farm.

This time it was Mrs Moore who whined, not Millie, as she and Evie rolled out pastry for the pies that would provide some of the sustenance. ‘Fine for everyone else but who's cooking the food as usual, and those gardeners will eat more than the rest of us put together.'

Evie poked her in the ribs which were well hidden beneath the rolls of fat. ‘Come on, you're looking forward to dancing the Gay Gordons with Mr Harvey, you know you are.' Mrs Moore shrieked with laughter. ‘That'll be the day. Now, what are you wearing?'

‘I've bribed Lil to alter the dresses Grace gave me for the four of us. Mam's given us ribbon to thread through my bun and enough left for Sarah, Annie and Millie.'

Lady Veronica was lending them her phonograph, Mr Harvey told them over lunch the day before the ball, which was more than they'd thought they would have from the Bramptons. ‘They have also mentioned that Lord Brampton will be in attendance with the rest of the family, and I have been informed that we must prepare for the return of Roger.' Evie laid down her knife and fork, feeling sick. Mrs Moore looked down the table at her and stood up. ‘Come along, girls, time we were getting on. Sarah, Millie, Annie, bring out the dishes.'

As the girls busied themselves she hustled Evie out into the kitchen, tightening her apron as she did so, pointing to the kettle. ‘Put that on for us, there's a bonny lass, and you're not the first and you won't be the last to get into a fisticuffs with that particular snake, so don't take it to heart. Let young Simon help you.'

Mrs Moore heaved herself on to her stool, drawing her recipe book towards her. It had translucent splashes of old fat on each page, just as Evie's had now. She thought of them as medals. Mrs Moore rolled her shoulders. ‘Now come along, we have so much to do, and I want to remind the girls yet again that Roger is not a man to join around the gooseberry bush.'

The servants' hall was glowing with soft light, cast by the candles on the tables. Orange and yellow chrysanthemums decorated the corners of the room, and their scent mingled with the melted wax. Mr Harvey and Mrs Green led the servants into their own hall. There were no gasps of delight because they had created it themselves, but there was a general sigh of satisfaction. Lord and Lady Brampton were waiting one side of the furnace along the right-hand wall, and on the other side stood Lady Veronica and Mr Auberon. Evie slunk in behind Mrs Moore, not wanting to see Lord Brampton close up, let alone actually speak to the Bastard, but he was walking towards the servants, his usual frown deeply in place, his lips so thin that she wondered how, or if, Lady Brampton could bring herself to kiss him.

Lady Brampton, Mr Auberon and Lady Veronica were approaching also, each taking on a section of the staff as though they were advancing on the enemy. Perhaps they were.

Evie curtsied as Lady Brampton came to Mrs Moore. ‘I am delighted that the standard of cooking is rising each month, Mrs Moore. You are indeed a treasure.' Lady Brampton's smile was kind, her eyes were cool.

‘I have an excellent team, especially Evie Anston, Your Ladyship.' Mrs Moore gestured to Evie, who wished she wouldn't. She didn't want to be exposed in any way, and neither did she trust this family. They were quite capable of dismissing Mrs Moore and employing Evie in her place because she would be cheaper. She said, ‘Forgive me interrupting, Your Ladyship, but Mrs Moore is too kind. Her advice is crucial to me. I just do as she says and would be lost without her.'

As she spoke she noticed Lady Veronica swing round and could have cut out her tongue, but Lady Brampton was speaking. ‘Yes, I can see that you are too young to be so skilled.' She passed along. Evie flushed with anger but also relief. Mrs Moore was safe, but was she? She glanced at Lady Veronica, who was passing along the line as though she was Queen Alexandra. She came abreast of Evie, and there was no recognition. Mr Auberon followed her, nodding and smiling at everyone, saying how nice it was to see them, though all the servants knew that the family were wondering how long they had to stay with the appalling unwashed who should remain invisible, and who they most sincerely wished were not traditionally entitled to a party once a year.

Mr Harvey called for silence and thanked Lord and Lady Brampton for their generosity, and as he did so Evie felt the touch of Simon's hand on hers. He was panting as he stood beside her, whispering, ‘We're all late, we couldn't do up our collars, and then the ties.' She didn't mind how late he was as long as he came. She squeezed his hand, wanting to wrench off her silly little organza gloves and feel skin on skin. ‘You look wonderful,' he murmured.

She was wearing a deep green taffeta dress. She and all the other girls had pulled in their corsets just that little bit more, and though they could hardly breathe it was worth the pain. Simon was wearing a suit, with rounded stiff collar and dark blue tie. He looked different, but it was a good difference.

At last the formalities were over, but still the family stayed. Archie and James were in charge of the phonograph but with all the chatter the music couldn't be heard, so no one danced. Simon and Evie circulated, careful not to seem glued together, but always within reach of one another. Millie stayed hot on their heels. Simon whispered, ‘She doesn't seem any less fretful.'

Evie liked him leaning so close, and the feel of his breath on her cheek and neck. ‘I can't make her out,' she murmured as they sidestepped Mrs Green in close conversation with Mrs Moore. ‘She's timid one minute and then spiteful the next, and totally idle. It might come of having no father, or having to live with relatives. I don't know, I try to be patient but by, lad, I don't do a very good job.'

His hand was running up and down her arm while they were hidden amongst the throng and she hoped he would talk of them, their future, their present. He said, ‘This music is hopeless, I'm going to ask Bernie and Thomas to come with me and collect our fiddles, we can do better.' She felt disappointment so sharp that she couldn't respond. He continued, ‘Then I can take time out to dance with you, because I haven't done that yet, Evie Anston.' Everything was all right again.

In his absence she stood with Lil, whose hair was piled on top of her head with a bone comb just off to one side, watching the stilted groups. They nudged one another as Lady Veronica struggled to make conversation with the head gardener, who was taciturn enough on his own territory and impossible in this situation.

They watched Mr Harvey discussing with his Lordship the possibility of replacing the phonograph with the fiddlers. Lord Brampton shrugged, his frown deeper still. His reply was curt. Mr Harvey bowed slightly as Lord Brampton moved away, and nodded to Mrs Green.

The boys were back and the two footmen drifted from the phonograph with relief written large on their faces as the fiddlers began, and soon the room was given over to dancing. The candles wafted in the breeze created by the Gay Gordons, and reels of all types, and a few waltzes, some of which Evie danced with Simon. She was in heaven, and never wanted the evening to end, loving his smile, his red hair which glinted in the light, his hands which gripped hers, and then clasped her to him for the waltzes. Their bodies were close then, perhaps too close, but she didn't care.

At length Mr Harvey called a pause for the food, and Evie dragged herself from Simon and hurried off with the other kitchen staff and the footmen and under-footmen. By the time the food was placed upon the table an orderly queue had formed, and tables had been set up around the room. Mr Harvey declared that the musicians should be served first, at which Lord Brampton's frown grew ever deeper. The servants longed to laugh as the family sat at their table to await their turn.

After the Bramptons had been served by Archie and James, the queue moved quickly. Evie sat with Simon, Bernie and Millie, who glowed as she listened to Bernie talking of his Irish uncle who had been a fiddler too. Simon reached for Evie's hand below the table and she didn't notice the food she was eating, the food she and the kitchen staff had slaved over, but somehow her plate was soon empty, and so was Simon's. Bernie leaned across to Simon. ‘What do you say, Si, to us entertaining this mob while they finish? Have you the puff?'

Simon stood. ‘If Evie has. She used to sing in school, if I remember rightly.'

Evie leaned back, laughing. ‘You go and make a fool of yourself, if you want, pet, but leave me out of it.'

Simon shook his head. ‘Never knew you to step back from a challenge, Evie.'

She went then, and together they sang. ‘If you were the only girl in the world, and I was the only boy.' Simon had a wonderful voice, and hers sounded good enough here, with him. They sang requests, they sang while the others danced, they sang until their throats were dry and then they sang some more, and all the time she wished she could loosen her corset. It was when they were crooning to some Ragtime that she saw Roger enter, and her voice faltered for a moment.

Simon turned to her, puzzled, but she had picked up on the beat again, looking only at him. His eyes were focused on her, his hand gripping her fingers. The song ended, he bent to her, saying, ‘I'm here. You know I'll always be here, right by your side.'

‘I know,' she replied.

Roger was weaving his way through to them, clapping along with the rest, but before he reached them Lady Veronica and Mr Auberon had moved to stand in front of the fiddlers and singers. Lady Veronica said, ‘I thought that delightful. You are all so very talented.'

Mr Auberon pressed a coin into each of their hands. ‘Excellent, truly truly excellent.'

Roger was examining his nails. The Bramptons moved away, and before Evie could check how much she'd been given Simon said, ‘Wait here, I'll talk to Roger.'

She held him back. ‘We'll both go.'

They went together and Roger looked from one to the other, his collar immaculate, his suit freshly pressed and a small rose in his buttonhole. Evie said, ‘It's a shame you returned. It's been so delightful in your absence, which gives you your answer to the proposition you made before you left, and Millie has far too much sense than to listen to any of your nonsense. She has quite agreed with the advice of the upper servants about any liaison with you.'

She walked on, side by side with Simon, accepting the plaudits for their performance, seeing Mrs Moore having a firm word with Millie, Sarah and Annie and all of them nodding fearfully, and she knew it would be about Roger. This had been the best evening of her life, especially with the Brampton family now taking their leave so the party could really begin. Mr Auberon had given them all a guinea. ‘It's generous,' she said. ‘He's got more than enough, pet,' Simon replied.

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