Old Sins Long Shadows (23 page)

Janey looked at the unfa
miliar writing. ‘I don’t know, maybe,’ she said turning it over. It was the third she had received, she had a feeling this one would contain the same as the others.

‘
I’d better be going. Mr Tallock thinks Miss Petherbridge will be returning at the beginning of next week but he’s adamant that she will not be allowed to change anything until the fever is gone from the house. I’m quite looking forward to seeing her face when he tells her. It will put her nose out of joint, I can tell you.  She’ll be some mazed!’

Janey listened to
Charlotte’s footsteps receding down the corridor as she left and took the envelope over to the window. After a cursory glance to see if Mary was otherwise occupied, she slipped her thumb beneath the seal and pulled out the quality paper. It was as she feared, another rejection to a job application. She was considered too young and inexperienced for a lady’s maid post and too experienced for a kitchen staff’s post. She would have to consider another position but few came with lodgings. Time, however, had not been on her side. James would be returning early and her self imposed isolation kept her captive to applying elsewhere. She felt like a fearful cornered animal while a predator approached.

‘One drachm of chlorate of potash, simple syrup and four ounces of water. Mix one table-spoonful every four hours in as much water.’ Mary placed the bottle she had been reading on the table beside her and sat down opposite Janey. ‘What’s a drachm?’

‘
It’s a measurement of weight,’ replied Janey, ‘Dr Barker recommended filling the mixture to the line on the glass. You are very good at reading, Mary.’ Mary smiled back, pleased with the compliment.

‘
I know that you may not believe me but I actually liked school.’  She joined Janey in a well deserved cup of tea while their charges slept peacefully. In contented silence they sipped at their steaming drinks. ‘Lizzy’s rash is drying. Her skin is covered in scales.’

‘
We must start to rub oil onto her skin,’ replied Janey watching Mary over the rim of her cup. ‘Mary, do you have plans when things return to normal?’

‘
Plans?  What do you mean?’ asked Mary.

Janey
placed her cup back on the tray, ‘I hope you don’t think I’m about to speak out of turn but I just think your skills are wasted as a servant.’  Mary looked at her puzzled. ‘You would make an excellent nurse,’ Janey continued, ‘You
have
made an excellent nurse. Have you ever thought of training to be one?’

Mary laughed but her laughter soon died when she realised Janey was quite serious.

‘Are you making fun of me?’ she asked, narrowing her eyes. Janey shook her head. Mary snorted, ‘People like me don’t become nurses’

‘
Why not?’

‘
Because….’  Mary shrugged, ‘I don’t know. I don’t know anyone who is a nurse. I don’t know if I could.’

‘
Would you like to be a nurse?’

‘
I would love to be a nurse…but me?  I wouldn’t know how to go about it.’

‘
The City Hospital in Truro undertakes nurse training.’

‘
Move away from St. Wenna?’

‘I used to live in Truro. There is a nurses’ home on the hospital grounds. I often saw the nurses walking to their morning shifts wearing their starched aprons and hats. It is not something I aspire to but I see you have a natural gift for it.’

Mary had a light in her eyes,
‘Would you help me write a letter, Janey?’

‘
Of course,’ said Janey smiling. They sat in companionable silence once more and finished their tea, Mary smiling at the thought of becoming a qualified nurse. Eventually she spoke.

‘
I’m sorry for what I did at the harvest dance. I’ve never apologised properly and I should have.’

‘
It is forgotten.’

‘
It was wrong of me. I was jealous of Daniel singling you out.’  The sound of his name brought a lump to Janey’s throat, for a moment she could not speak. ‘I’ve always had a liking for Daniel but he has always looked at me as his friend’s younger sister. When I saw him watching you I knew he had a fancy for you.’

‘
It is in the past, think no more of it.’  Janey didn’t want to talk about him. His rejection by the church still hurt, although why it should she could not understand. Mary, however, continued her chatter, unaware of the feelings that stirred in Janey’s stomach.

‘
I’ve never seen Daniel look at a woman like he did at you that night. Matt told me weeks later that it was Daniel who got you into the manor that night. I had wondered how you were there in the morning.’ Janey gave a weak smile and made a show of gathering the cups. ‘Are you walking out together?’

‘
No. You will be pleased to know that Daniel’s interest in me is no more.’  Mary looked genuinely saddened.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. It’s not like Daniel to change his mind so easily. When he sets his mind on something he usually means it.’

‘
Well he has realised his folly and I gave him no encouragement. Let’s not dwell on Daniel Kellow. We have work to do.’

‘
I’m sorry if I ruined things, Janey. You would make a handsome couple.’

‘
You did not ruin anything, Mary. There was nothing to ruin.’ Mary touched her arm, compassion showing on her face.

‘
Yes there was Janey,’ she smiled encouragingly, ‘I saw it, even if you didn’t.’

Lizzy made a full recovery. Lord Brockenshaw did not. Two weeks later his body, swollen from fluid his failed heart could no longer pump away, was prepared for the photographer. Despite her blindness Lady Brockenshaw insisted on arranging for a memento mori, a post mortem photograph that had gained popularity in recent years. She wanted a keepsake of her husband that could be passed down through the generations and she therefore insisted he was dressed in his best suit for the photograph. She did, however, stop short of having his body propped up in a chair and his eyes painted open as preferred by some. She wanted an image of him in his natural state as Dr Barker had informed her he looked at peace. The organisation of this took her focus and energy for a time and kept her grief at bay for just a little longer. A lock of his hair was taken for her to wear in her locket for the remainder of her life and the process of mourning began in earnest.

The whole household, including the servants, adopted deep mourning. Black armbands were worn by the male servants, black ribbons by the female staff and a sombre mood descended upon the house. Curtains were drawn and all the clocks in the house were stopped in respect for the
ir dead master. Each mirror was covered by a single black drape to prevent his spirit becoming trapped on earth and John, Lord Brockenshaw’s valet, sat by his body to watch over him until burial. Janey, now out of isolation, was once more by her mistress’ side and, as custom required, dressed her ladyship in dresses of black crepe, the accepted mourning clothes of the upper classes. Gone were the fashionable colourful clothes of the past, packed away in tissue until the mourning period was complete in two years time. There was no laughter in the house during those initial weeks but sadness for the loss of a respected master, compassion for the widow left behind and uncertainty at the changes ahead. Bosvenna Manor and Estate now had a new master, a master who had yet to learn of the death of his father or return home to claim his inheritance.

Daniel had not ventured into the village for the past month. Spring was always busy on the farm and the grip of scarlet fever did not encourage anyone to mix if there was no need. Thankfully, the fever had finally slipped away, worn out by its own ferocity and leaving a Lord, two women and five children buried in the churchyard nearby. The villagers attentively emerged from their homes and attempted to return to their normal day to day lives. The school had reopened and gradually children’s laughter could be heard in the playground once more, giving hope to everyone who heard them that normality was possible and the future was still bright. The warm spring day and the emerging flower bulbs also cast their spell of optimism and Daniel emerged from Digory’s Ale House feeling relaxed and at peace. He had spent an enjoyable afternoon supping ale with Matt, who, much against Daniel’s better judgment, had dragged him to the village for a drink to celebrate finishing the ploughing early. A combination of dry weather, soft ground, a plough that for once hadn’t broken, together with Matt offering to help, had resulted in the field being ploughed and seed sown in good time. He had no excuse when Matt suggested a drink and he didn’t want to dampen his young friend’s enthusiasm, so together they had set off for the village and over a couple of tankards put the world to rights.

Finally Matt had turned the conversation to his sister and Bosvenna Estate
. Daniel sat quietly, his expression impassive, while he listened to his friend’s idle chatter. Occasionally he would throw in, what he hoped appeared to be, a casual question to let his friend know he was indeed still listening. If only his friend realized that below the bored façade Daniel drank in the news of Bosvenna Estate like a thirsty man in a desert drinking the spilled water drops from another man’s cup. It wasn’t the estate he was interested in, or Mary come to that. It was the news of one particular servant girl who, if Mary could be believed, had directed operations during the fever like a colonel in command of an army. He suspected there was some artistic licence to the description but Matt insisted that Mary was genuinely impressed and had a new respect for Janey, as well as a growing mutual friendship.

The two men parted ways just as Daniel heard a woman’s voice call out to him
. He recognised it immediately and turned to see Sally approaching, a smile on her lips and a swing in her hips. He sat on the granite stone wall, stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossed them casually at the ankle and waited for her to reach him. He gave her a lazy smile.

‘
Long time no see,’ she said smiling whilst parting his legs and stepping between them with all the familiarity as if they had shared a bed the night before. ‘Where have you been hiding yourself?’

He ignored her qu
estion and asked one of his own.

‘
How are you, Sally?’

She pouted her lips like a petulant child,
‘Missing you. Not seen you since the autumn. Thought you were hankering after the married life?’

‘
It was just a passing phase.’  He looked her over and although she was a few years older than him she remained very pleasing to the eye. Her black curls bounced in the sunlight and she moved provocatively between his legs knowing her outer thighs would rub against the inside of his. ‘You are a tease, Sally,’ he said.

‘
No more than you. When are you going to visit me again?’

‘
I’m not a man to plan ahead.’

‘
Drop in tonight. That’s not too far ahead.’ She took his hand and placed it behind her waist, ‘You know I miss you. Other men don’t have a patch on you.’  She slid his hand down until it cupped her buttock. ‘I’ll make you something nice to eat.’

‘
Like what?’

‘
You name it and I’ll do it.’ Daniel knew what she was suggesting and it had nothing to do with food. He was tempted. He wasn’t used to going without but Janey had made him fussy and what would have tempted him in the past was different now. Sally was inviting him to a feast and not for the first time in resent weeks he realised how starved he was. Unfortunately his attraction to Janey resulted in every morsel which was ripe for the picking was to be found wanting. He wondered, as he openly admired Sally’s curves, if it was all in his head. If Janey was standing here right now and he could directly compare the two, would Janey really be so much more attractive to him. A movement caught his eye and he glanced over Sally’s shoulder. As if by some twist of fate, Janey was by the apothecary door watching him.

Janey turned her head away sharply and in her haste almost fell through the door of the shop. She was furious with herself for being caught watching him and inexplicably she was furious with him for catching her. What made matters worse was she was still representing her mistress’ mourning. She wore her lady’s maid uniform, the only dress she had which was black and her ladyship had insisted she wore her own black cape. The cape was old fashioned, black and embellished with black beading more fitting for an elderly lady than a woman of twenty years. She felt awful in it and knew it did not suit her, making her look washed out and pale. To top it all, the cape rubbed her causing red wheals on the side of her neck, yet Janey had complied, as she always did with her ladyship’s wishes. After all, wasn’t that what a good lady’s maid did?

However
, it was one thing representing her ladyship in mourning and quite another to be caught staring at Daniel while he fondled another woman in public. She felt like a peeping tom. She watched him out of the apothecary window, pretending to examine the blocks of soap displayed in big wicker baskets on the floor. She picked up a block and weighed it in her hand, smelling its perfume and dropping it into the basket before moving on to the next one. All the time she kept her eyes on the couple knowing he would not be able to see her quite so clearly through the glass of the window. The woman left him with a parting kiss on his cheek and a wave. Janey watched angrily as Daniel’s eyes lingered on the other woman’s hips as she walked away. She blindly reached down for the next block of soap and inhaled its perfume, the familiarly of the scent sweeping up her nostrils to invade her lungs.