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Authors: Sue Reid

BOOK: Langdown Manor
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D
OWNSTAIRS

‘What's happened to you?' I said to Sarah, as I bumped into her on the stairs. Under her cap her hair looked damp, and there was a red mark on one cheek.

‘Miss Penelope, that's what,' said Sarah. ‘She threw a snowball and it caught me in the face.'

‘She did what?' I exclaimed.

‘She said she was sorry, but she should take more care,' Sarah sniffed.

‘I'm sure she didn't mean it.' I'd meant to console, but Sarah rounded on me.

‘Is that all you can say?'

I felt myself flinch at the anger I saw in her eyes. It wasn't my fault, was it?

‘Sarah, I'm sorry, but she wouldn't have deliberately thrown a snowball at you. Why would she want to do that?'

‘Search me. They don't care, do they? Posh girls like her. They do just what they like.'

Sarah was working herself up into a rage. This wasn't just about a badly thrown snowball.

‘What is the matter, Sarah? You can tell me.'

‘I was all right before she came here,' she said more to herself than to me. ‘She's spoilt it all.' Her face creased and I knew she was trying not to cry.

Hurriedly I put down the carpet sweeper I'd been carrying, and put my arms around her. ‘Don't be upset, Sarah. There's nothing to be upset about.'

‘There is,' she wept. ‘He's changed. He's not the same towards me.' She rubbed a hand across her eyes. ‘It's ever since she came.'

‘Has he said anything? He's not called it off?'

She shook her head. ‘No, but there's something different about him. I know him so well, I can tell, Jess. I'm sure he's trying to avoid me. He's always making excuses why he can't spend time with me. He's too busy, he's got to look after a horse. He never was like that before. Never ever. He always found time somehow.'

I tried to think of something that would comfort her. ‘I'm sure you're wrong, but Miss Penelope, she'll be coming out soon. Even if he does like her, she'll be busy going to parties and dances, and in a year or two she'll be married to some rich young man. You and he go way back, Sarah. Anyway, they'd never let her marry him. Can you imagine!' I laughed. The idea was preposterous. Surely Sarah could see that?

‘She'll be going to London soon for the season. You'll have Fred to yourself,' I added. ‘He won't be so busy then, once the family are away.'

I earned myself a watery smile. I gave her a quick hug before picking up the carpet sweeper and lugging it upstairs. I was behind with my chores, and still had the drawing room floor to sweep. I planned to nip in while it was empty. We had a lot of extra work to do now. Mr Barrett had told us after morning prayers that we'd be a full house soon. Mr George had invited some friends to stay for the Langdown Meet, and there'd be all the bedrooms to prepare for the guests and staff, on top of all the other cleaning. Then there was Miss P. As I pushed the carpet sweeper back and forth across the drawing room floor, I tried to forget what Sarah had said. Miss P hadn't been riding for days. Her shoulder still troubled her. I had never been on a horse and never wanted to. Great big brutes; one had nearly stepped on Sarah's toe once.

I was nearly done when I heard voices outside – Mr George's and Miss P's. I could hear some of what they were saying – they were talking about the dance. It was only an informal one, but Miss P sounded ever so enthusiastic. Well, I thought, who wouldn't be? Who wouldn't want to wear a beautiful gown and twirl round the room in the arms of a handsome young man? I'd tell Sarah that she had nothing to worry about. Even if Fred had developed a fancy for her, he'd soon get over it, once he grew up enough to realize that it was just a silly dream.

We servants were soon to have our own ball, too. I looked forward to it every year. This year maybe I'd meet the man of my dreams. I shut my eyes and tried to imagine myself in satin and diamonds. I'd have my hair done up differently, maybe a little rouge on my lips… I grasped the handle of the carpet sweeper, pretending it was my partner, and tried a few steps. I only knew a couple of dances, but Ivy was going to teach me some new ones. I was so caught up in my silly dream that I didn't hear the door open. And when at last I looked up again there was Mr George and Miss P standing there, staring at me. I stopped, the carpet sweeper still hugged in my arms. I could feel myself blush to my roots. I edged out of the room, muttering apologies, pulling the sweeper along behind me. Mr George was smiling. I saw Miss P smile, too, but there was a sadness deep in her eyes that I didn't expect.

I still had her room to finish, before beginning on the guest rooms. It should have been done while Miss P was at breakfast, but she'd burst in before I'd finished for gloves and hat before running out into the snow. It wasn't easy to find the right time to clean Miss P's room. She appeared and disappeared when you weren't expecting it. I opened the door. I could see her imprint on the bed I'd made earlier. It looked as if she had been sitting there for a long time. Smoothing it down again, I felt a moment's pity for her. It couldn't have been easy coming to live halfway across the world with relatives she didn't know. Fine gowns and a life of leisure seemed too high a price to pay.

I began on the dusting. There was a photograph of her dead mother on the dressing table. I could see the resemblance to Miss P, even though it must have been taken when her mother was a lot older. But I'd dusted the photographs in the drawing room often enough to recognize that Miss P was the spitting image of her mother when she was the same age. I wondered how her ladyship felt about that – it must have felt like welcoming home a ghost.

I was on my way back to the basement when I saw that someone was creeping along the passage that led to the hall. Ivy! She looked shocked when she saw me – as she should.

‘Ivy!' I demanded. ‘What are you doing up here? You know it's forbidden.'

She looked sullen. ‘I had to get out of that scullery. I can't stand it, Jess. Maddie gives me no peace.'

I gave her a sceptical look.

‘You didn't have to come up here though, did you? You could have gone outside, or to your room. Hurry now – get back downstairs before anyone else sees you.' I took her by the shoulders and gave her a push. ‘Come on, Ivy, don't dawdle, I haven't got all day.'

We reached the door that separated the upstairs world from the downstairs. ‘Hurry up,' I said, throwing a nervous glance back into the hall.

‘Even the door's different on our side.' Ivy touched the green baize that covered the door on the downstairs side. ‘What's this for?' she asked.

‘It's to help muffle the sound, so the family won't hear us.'

She snorted. ‘They want to pretend we don't exist, don't they? What would they do without us, I wonder? One day they'll 'ave to. I wish I could see it. Them sweating over the range, washing up their own plates and cups, making their own beds—'

I didn't like that sort of talk. ‘Enough of that,' I said. ‘I'm not listening.' I put my hands over my ears.

‘Well, I look forward to the day when they won't wipe their shoes on my back,' said Ivy. ‘It's coming, Jess, whether you like it or not.'

‘Until then you've got three meals a day – a lot better too than you got at home I don't doubt – and a roof over your head,' I said. ‘But when this wonderful new world of yours comes, who knows? You might be on the streets – no job, no money, no home…'

Ivy snapped her fingers. ‘I'm not afraid.'

But I was.

The future Ivy described didn't excite me; it frightened me. It was all very well, but what would we do – girls like me who'd only ever worked in service?

I put the carpet sweeper back where it should have been, in the store cupboard, then together we clattered down the stairs.

At the bottom I marched her into the scullery. I could see a heap of still unwashed pans sitting by the sink. A dirty rim ran round the sides. ‘Ivy, get going with that lot before you get in more trouble and we'll talk.' As I perched up on the side again, I remembered the last time I'd sat there when Maddie had stormed in. I cast a glance into the kitchen. Maddie and Maisie were bent over the table, chopping up vegetables and I could hear Cook firing off orders. It was a busy time of day for the kitchen staff.

‘So,' I began, ‘what's up with you and Maddie this time, Ivy?'

‘The usual. She makes my life really hard. She'd like to see me sacked, I'm sure. I'll sack myself when I'm ready.'

‘You'll get yourself sacked if you're seen upstairs again. What made you go upstairs, Ivy? The truth, now.'

Ivy was scouring the scum out of the sink. ‘I just wanted to see what it was like.'

‘You see it at morning prayers.'

‘I only see the hall,' she muttered.

‘So you went exploring, did you?' She gave a giggle. ‘Ivy,' I said, ‘it's not funny. If anyone else had seen you you'd have been in real trouble.'

She turned round to me. ‘You should see your face, Jess! But you needn't worry. No one saw me. I'd only got as far as the hall, before you came along.'

‘Good thing I did,' I said. ‘You might have come across the family.' I felt my cheeks go pink remembering how Mr George and Miss P had caught me dancing round the room with the carpet sweeper clasped to my chest.

‘Don't ever go up there again,' I said. ‘You might not be so lucky next time.'

‘You'll not tell, will you, Jess?'

I felt annoyed. ‘'Course not. I don't split.'

‘I'll return the favour one day. I'll…' She turned back to me and studied my face. I felt my cheeks grow hot as her eyes wandered over it from cap to chin. ‘Tell you what; I'll help you get ready for the ball. You won't recognize yourself, Jess.'

She plunged her hands back into the water. ‘Funny to think we'll 'ave our own ball,' she mused. She pulled a face. ‘Only I'll 'ave to avoid young Robert, or Maddie will get the hump. That young stable hand's nice, but he's spoken for, isn't he?'

‘Fred? Yes, he is. You keep your hands off him!' Goodness – what would our lives be like if Ivy took a fancy to Fred, too!

U
PSTAIRS

My partner's hand tightened on my waist. He was old – and nearly bald. I yearned to pull away, but I didn't dare. Aunt's eyes were on me. She gave me an approving smile. At least I was dancing… Arabella was standing by the wall, one of a gaggle of girls swooning over David Moore. Nearly all the girls had their eye on him – he was the handsomest man in the room. I'd no desire to join them. I'd caught him glancing over at me once or twice. I could see from his expression that he was used to attention and couldn't understand why I alone hadn't fallen at his feet. But I wasn't going to be another scalp on his belt.

I had my hair up. I'd asked Baxter to do it for me. I'd never had it up before. I wasn't sure what Aunt would think but she seemed pleased that I was showing some interest in my appearance. When Baxter held up a mirror for me I didn't recognize myself. I felt I was looking into the face of a stranger. Good. I wanted to be a stranger to myself. I didn't want anything to do with the girl who cried into her pillow at night. I'd kept away from the stables since the day I'd helped Clemmie build the snowman. I hadn't needed to find an excuse as the snow had made it impossible to ride. It still lay on the ground, like a dirty blanket, stubbornly refusing to melt, and the Meet had had to be cancelled. Each morning when I woke pain settled on my chest like a weight that I had to carry around with me. It was at its heaviest when the household staff joined us for morning prayers – I could not stop my eyes being drawn to Sarah's bowed head. I never saw her look at me, but just a glimpse of her fair head immediately brought Fred to my mind, and the wound I was trying to heal ached as badly as it had the day I'd learned about her and Fred.

Though the Meet had been cancelled there was still a houseful of guests at Langdown. George's friends had arrived yesterday. Some of the guests had been collected from the station, others had made their own way by motor, gleaming handsome vehicles that were now parked on the forecourt. When I'd heard cars drive up and horns toot I'd wanted to run away and hide. I didn't want to see them, I felt unfit for human company.

The dance came to an end and my partner deposited me among a group of girls – all friends of Arabella's. I stood with them, but they ignored me, so I wandered away and sat in an empty chair. I felt misery tug at me. The room was full of people, yet I had never felt more alone.

‘Can I get you a drink?' I looked up to see that David Moore was standing before me. Was it the lack of interest I'd shown in him that had drawn him to me? I shook my head. ‘Then may I sit down?' he asked. I nodded, not caring if he joined me or not. He pulled out a chair and sat down next to me. ‘I feel that we've barely been introduced,' he said. ‘How are you enjoying yourself?'

‘All this – dancing…' I waved my hand. I tried to smile.

‘You'd sooner be on horseback? Ah, the freedom it gives. George told me that you're a good rider,' he explained.

‘George has never even seen me ride,' I said. He must have heard the abruptness in my voice, but he ignored it.

‘Word has got around then. But wait till you come up in the plane. Did George tell you about that? I think you'll enjoy that just as much.' I turned my eyes to the window. The curtains had been drawn, so I couldn't see outside. It was dark now anyway. Fred would be up in his room, or talking to Sarah… I tried to push away the image of Fred's face that swam before me. It seemed to grow more vivid the more I wished it would fade. I tried to force it away by imagining what it would be like to sit in a plane, how I'd feel as it climbed higher and higher, into the clouds. But Fred's face remained obstinately before me.

‘George told me you had a plane,' I said, in desperation turning back to David. ‘But I'd thought he was joking.' Only a few brave men flew planes. I couldn't imagine even a rich young man owning one.

‘I do indeed, I share it with some friends,' he said. ‘Would you like a ride in it?'

‘If you let me take the controls!' I said, simply for something to say.

‘Ah! What spirit! We might be able to arrange it,' he said. He leaned forward. ‘George told me that you lived all your life in India until a few months ago.'

‘I did. I came here when Mother died. Aunt is trying to turn me into a lady,' I said, without thinking what I was saying. ‘I don't think she'll succeed.' I shouldn't have said that either, but I was too miserable to care what I said. I'll have shocked him, I thought. But perhaps he'd see that he was wasting his time. Get up and leave me alone. And surely he could sense the aura of misery I carried around with me. But to my surprise I saw that he was listening attentively, a sympathetic expression on his face. I felt myself begin to relax. ‘Dancing and parties, it's all very well,' I said, ‘but…' I shrugged.

‘It's not enough, is it? But things are changing, you know – even for women. One day women will get the vote, and then we men had better watch out.'

‘The vote?' I said. In spite of myself I felt a flicker of life inside me.

David leaned back in his chair and studied me. ‘You didn't know about the suffragettes?'

I shook my head, ashamed to be so ignorant. ‘Who are they?' I asked.

He smiled. ‘Well, of course,' he said, ‘you have been in India and missed the fun. Suffragettes are women who are fighting for the right to vote. They are a wild lot. They march on Parliament and do all sorts of unspeakable things for their cause like set fire to postboxes, and chain themselves to railings. But it's hard not to admire their spirit.'

In a few weeks' time I'd be presented at Court. I'd wear my hair up every day, not just on special occasions like this. But if things were really beginning to change for women then maybe my future wasn't as bleak as it seemed to me right now. I felt the weight on my chest shift a little. David was easy to talk to. And unlike most of my partners he had a view of the world that more nearly matched mine. But it was what he talked about, rather than the man himself, that interested me. A world in which anything was possible, even for young ladies like me. In which men took to the air and women marched on Parliament demanding their rights. I'd had a dream and it had been torn away from me; I'd felt as if my life was over even before it had begun. I'd almost let my feelings for Fred overwhelm everything else. But perhaps my life wasn't over, even if Fred wasn't part of it any more?

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