Read Fortunes of the Heart Online
Authors: Jenny Telfer Chaplin
At this point Mrs Delaney peeled off her fine kid gloves
then, holding them in her left hand, she held up an elegant, be-ringed, and
well-manicured hand as if to stem the flow of Kate’s tirade. In her superior
way and looking down her nose at her would-be landlady, she drawled: “Steady on
there, Mistress Kinnon. At this moment, I am still only at the stage of looking
and assessing the accommodation on offer, before I make my final decision.
Nothing whatever beyond that. And most certainly, no fait accompli, I do assure
you, Madam. I do still have another couple of
possibles
to see and consider as yet. That other newsagent, the big shop round in Argyle
Street, he had a discreetly-written notice in his window which rather attracted
me. Something about a large, bright airy room with elegant furnishings and
attendance. And, would you believe, overlooking Glasgow Green and a ... let me
see, how did they phrase it?”
The pompous woman put a forefinger to her head in an elegant
pose as she supposedly pondered the wording of the advertisement.
Somehow, Kate, with a quiet smile to herself, had the feeling
that the well-corseted and upholstered woman before her knew exactly what the
notice had said. Her suspicions were confirmed when, with a trilling laugh as
of a young self-conscious girl, Mrs Delaney simpered.
“Oh, yes, I remember now. How very stupid of me to forget.
The advertisement said: such a rich setting would be the ideal location for a
Lady of Quality’.”
Again she laughed her girlish trill, which contrasted oddly
with her sergeant major physique. Recovering her poise, she shrugged elegantly,
at the same time holding out her splayed fingers as if to encompass the mean
room in which she currently found herself. As one handing out charity to the
workhouse poor, she smiled kindly and gave Kate a crumb of comfort.
“Of course, my dear, that room may already have been taken.
I do realise that. But even so, as far as your own room on offer goes, well, as
I say, as yet, no fait accompli. Obviously, I do appreciate that in no way
whatsoever can you compete with the elegance of
Monteith
Row and its Glasgow Green setting.”
Kate frowned, for the very mention of Glasgow Green, far
less
Monteith
Row was enough to upset her. Deciding
on the instant that attack was the best form of defence, she rallied her
thoughts and the turmoil of her emotions.
“
Monteith
Row indeed, Mistress
Delaney. Humph. I would not have thought the grand gentry set of people there
would have need of a paying lodger.”
It was Mrs Delaney’s turn to look surprised, but even so she
was not about to be spoken to in this manner by a person of the lower classes.
She looked down her fine patrician nose.
“Oh, so you know the area, do you? Perhaps you’ve done some
cleaning, stair washing, or the like there, is that
Kate folded her arms across her chest, holding to herself
the wild surge of glee which raced through her body.
Why not? she thought. Why shouldn’t I mention it, do a spot
of name dropping? After all, the high and mighty Mistress Delaney is obviously
a snob of the first order. Right, Kate, my girl, here goes.
She smoothed back her hair, then smiled innocently at the
smug woman before her.
“Cleaning? Me? In
Monteith
Row?
Oh, hardly that, Mistress Delaney. You see, I have visited, as a house guest
there, in fact, at the home of my husband’s aunt. Perhaps you know her?”
Mrs Delaney’s face was a study of conflicting emotions as,
holding a hand to her bulging neck, she inclined her head on one side.
Kate swallowed hard a couple of times, more to bite back her
mirth than anything else, then speaking in an exaggerated tone of great
confidentiality, she said: “We don’t normally let on about our relations in
high places hereabouts, but I know I can trust you not to betray a confidence.”
The tall feather in Mrs Delaney’s over fussy hat bobbed its
easy acceptance, as it all but poked out Kate’s left eye. Holding her head
somewhat to the side to avoid further confrontation with the William Tell
monstrosity, Kate nodded sagely.
“Like I say, you may already know my husband’s aunt, what
with you, from the look and sound of you, moving in high circles. She’s the
Lady
Christabel
Telfer
-MacPherson.
But of course,
Monteith
Row is just her Town house.
She keeps an estate in Argyll you know.”
Plain, untitled Mrs Josephine Delaney, widow-woman with high
social pretensions, was visibly flabbergasted. Almost as if she expected the
Lady
Christabel
to come strolling elegantly through
the door at any moment, she smoothed down her already immaculate dress. When
she again spoke there was a trace of wonder in her voice.
“Lady
Christabel
Telfer
-MacPherson. Why, she’s one of the leading society
hostesses in Glasgow. During the season, of course.” She frowned. “No, I can’t
say that I know her personally. But, of course, it goes without saying that I
do know of her – through mutual friends, you understand?”
Kate did understand. And perhaps even more than Mrs Delaney
knew, in that moment, Kate was aware she had found herself a paying lodger.
In the days that followed Mrs Delaney’s moving in it was
soon clear not only had Kate gained a lodger, she had more or less lost a
husband. By the end of her first week in residence, Pearce not only knew all
there was to know about Mrs Delaney, he also knew that he had found his
long-sought-after soul mate. For Josephine Delaney was one of his sort of people.
Pearce and Josephine soon found that, although apparent
strangers, nevertheless it seemed that their paths had often almost crossed in
the far off and privileged days of their youth, in the grand country houses of
dear old Ireland. Because of the relatively closed circle, they had former
acquaintances in common and, had Pearce not been banished to the colonies when
he was, they would undoubtedly have met each other at some point.
Josephine’s life story and fall in social standing was
amazingly similar to Pearce’s own sad tale. She had fallen hopelessly in love
with her father’s handsome young stable-lad, who had looked after Josephine’s
horse, and had been cut off from her family with only the clothes she stood up
in and with whatever jewellery she was already wearing at the time of her
banishment.
Her husband, before they left Ireland for good, had
surreptitiously entered her parent’s home one night and ‘retrieved’ her
jewellery, her personal box, and as many clothes as he could throw out the
window and they could carry. That had finally severed her connection with her
family.
As Kate entered the room bearing a loaded tray with the
vital requisites of scones, pancakes, fingers of shortbread and other such
delicacies for a satisfying afternoon tea, she was in time to hear a burst of
laughter from the precious pair. In fact, so engrossed in each other and in
their shared reminiscences were they, that neither of them so much as looked up
or in any way acknowledged Kate’s presence. Seeing this and feeling very strongly
that she was the odd man out, Kate smiled grimly to herself.
Humph. That’s rich, I must say, she thought. It looks as
though their Highnesses have put me firmly into my rightful place, straight
back to where I started, a humble, servile and damned overworked lady’s maid.
That’s all I’ll ever be, a bloody skivvy.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Mrs Delaney
give another girlish giggle.
“And that, in a nutshell, my dear Pearce, is how I came to
be in this hell-hole they call Glasgow.”
Kate could not have cared less how Josephine Delaney came to
be in the Second City of the Empire. As long as she paid her lodging and
attendance fees regularly each Friday, that was all that really concerned Kate.
However, in an effort to make her presence felt and insinuate her way into the
conversation, she cleared her throat and asked of her lodger: “If I might make
so bold as to ask, Mistress Delaney, what did bring you from Ireland to this
dirty, drunken city of Glasgow?”
Mrs Delaney looked put out at this direct questioning of her
high-and-mighty self by one of her social inferiors. Then perhaps remembering
her own place in the scheme of things in the Kinnon household, she decided to
make a joke of the matter. She cocked her head on one side, made a great show
of considering deeply the posed question.
“What brought me from Ireland to Scotland, you ask? Well,
now, let’s see. I do know that it wasn’t my Fairy Godmother. That much is sure.
So, that being the case, I guess it might just have been the overnight boat
from Lame to the
Broomielaw
, don’t you agree? And, of
course, one’s handsome young lover of a stable lad, Dominic.”
At this riposte, Pearce threw back his head and roared with
laughter, obviously on the same wave-length of sophisticated humour as his new
found friend. In that moment, Kate knew with absolute certainty that from
hence, it was going to be a case of two is company; three is an upper class
couple and their well below the salt maidservant. And no prize for guessing who
would fill the latter humble, yet necessary and overworked role. Kate sighed.
She had indeed made a rod for her own already overburdened back.
She smiled grimly as through her mind raced an old Scots saw
which she had recently heard one of her Glaswegian neighbours quote in an hour
of sore travail.
“
Och
, weel. The
guid
Lord above shapes the back for the burden.”
Kate pursed her lips.
If that’s true, then the good Lord has recently been hard at
work in reshaping my back for this latest burden. For one thing is sure, it is
myself that will have to carry the pampered Mistress Delaney and her voracious
appetite. Myself and none other.
Daniel jumped at the chance of the job with the newsagent
and happily took over Mr McGregor’s early morning stint; opening up, unpacking
the morning’s papers, and serving those men lucky enough to be employed with
their early edition, and cigarettes or tobacco to see them through the day.
That rush over he swept up; tidied up generally; cut and weighed out the larger
tobacco packages into the one ounce, half ounce, and quarter ounce packets
their customers could afford; and had the kettle on for tea for Mr McGregor’s
arrival. Although that really completed the morning’s work he was paid for,
Daniel, having left school on taking the job, stayed around, serving customers,
reading the papers and the magazines – the penny
dreadfuls
– and running errands.
In the evening Daniel again unpacked the late edition and
the racing paper, bundled up unsold papers, and generally made himself useful.
At the end of his first week he precipitated a major row
when he refused to hand his shilling wage over to Pearce, instead insisting on
giving it to Kate.
“That’s no fit job for a man, anyway,” Pearce finally
shouted.
“But’s one job more than you’ve got,” Daniel shouted back,
and fled the house.
Kate pacified Pearce, but kept the shilling.
As the year wore on, between Kate’s work with Mrs Scott, her
cleaning jobs, Daniel’s minute wage from the newsagent, and Mrs Delaney’s
lodging and attendance fees, Kate managed to keep the house with just under
half of what Pearce had been earning at the Fruit Market. Granny
Gorbals
took care of Hannah when Kate was out working and
although reluctant to do so at first was prevailed on to take sixpence a week
for her trouble.
Pearce, with Mrs Delaney to converse with, spent a great
deal of time in the front room with her, and was more animated, at least when
he was with her. With his family in the kitchen he still tended to sit in
morose silence at the fire, but the violent outbursts of temper became less
frequent. He and Daniel avoided each other when they could and when contact was
unavoidable, as at a family meal, each behaved as if the other was not present.
Daniel had a growth spurt over the year and although not yet
as tall as his father, he began to fill out and show signs of becoming a well
built young man.
Just before Christmas, Mrs Scott had Kate do a special clean
for her and buy in all sorts of Christmas treats. Kate wondered if Mrs Scott
was going to have visitors and if that would involve much of a clean-up later.
When she arrived at her usual time on Friday, December 23rd she was surprised
to find the table set for two and a mouth watering smell of cooking and baking
permeating the air.
“Who are you expecting, Mrs Scott?”
Mrs Scott smiled at her.
“You, Mrs Kinnon. Since you won’t be back now till after
Christmas I thought we would have a little celebration today, just the two of
us. Sit down.”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that. You sit and let me serve you.”
“This is my house and today you are my guest. Sit down.”
For the first time in her life, Kate sat at table and was
served her meal. Compared to what she usually ate this meal was gargantuan. She
finally pushed back her chair.
“I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“I have a little medicinal spirit, Mrs Kinnon. Will you take
a drop with me?”
Kate nodded and they toasted each other and drank.
“I’ll clear up now,” Kate said. “You have a seat.”
“You’ll do no such thing. We’ll clear up together. You can
wash or dry. You pick.”
Finished, Kate insisted on making a pot of tea for them and
they sat chatting.
“I’d better get started or I won’t finish today,” Kate said.