The Chainmakers (4 page)

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Authors: Helen Spring

BOOK: The Chainmakers
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'You'm a gem our Will,' she said.

Will cleared his throat, taken aback by this unexpected show of sisterly affection. 'Arr, I know,' he growled. 'It's a wonder I ay bin knighted...' And he set off down the ginnel, back to his bed.

HIGH CEDARS

Anna stared fixedly at the picture in front of her, which Robert had propped up on a low side table so that she could see it easily without lifting her head. 'There,' he had said, 'You can sit and look at "The Chainmaker's Child", it will help you keep still.'

The picture was a painting of herself at ten years old, bouncing on the bellows at the chainshop where her Dad worked, but Anna found it hard to identify with the rosy cheeked image. Had she ever really looked like that? Had she been so pretty? She remembered bouncing on the bellows day after day, but the child in the picture seemed to be enjoying it. Anna recalled the heat, and the tiredness, and the way the big grey headed man in the corner used to snarl at her if the blast to the furnace wasn't enough, and then she had to jump on the bellows harder and harder and faster and faster...

And that pinafore. In the picture it looked a soft floating material, but Anna recalled it was made of thick crash, rough enough to take your skin off before it had been washed a few times. She had worn the pinafore for years, letting down the big hem every year or so.

And the hair too. As a child she had often been complimented on her hair, which was a reddish gold colour and very thick and curly, but had it really had those lights in it? She studied the picture intently. The child's hair was streaming out, and through it you could see the sparks flying from the shadowy figures of the chainmakers in the background. If her hair had ever been that colour, she thought, it certainly wasn't now. As she had grown, the redgold tints had faded to a tawny bronze, like the colour of the big lion in the picture book of animals at school. Her hair still had a natural kink however, and Anna was grateful that she never had to spend time putting her hair in rags like so many of her friends, in order to have a few curls for Sunday chapel. She eased herself slightly in her seat, her bottom was stiff. She glanced across at Robert, and as if sensing her discomfort he murmured 'Not long now... another ten minutes or so and we'll stop.'

We'll stop. Another ten minutes and it would be over, her first weekend at High Cedars. Then she would be on her way home, which would be another adventure in itself, for Robert had said the groom would take her in the trap to catch the three o'clock canal barge. Anna had been in a trap only once in her life, and never on a canal boat, and at the thought of it excitement gripped her stomach again so that for the tenth time that weekend she felt slightly sick. She swallowed and tried to calm herself. The boat would drop her only a mile or so from Sandley Heath, and she should be home by six o'clock. Although it would be getting dark she would enjoy the walk after all this sitting about. She had so much to tell her Mom, and Will and Clancy. How the girls would lap it up tomorrow when she described the great house, and Robert's kindness, and his statuesque and perfectly groomed mother who had said Anna was not to call her ma'am but Florence, because 'you are not a servant my dear, and you must dine with us.'

Anna's stomach clenched again as she recalled her horror at being confronted by the gleaming white tablecloth, set with beautiful silver, crystal glasses and spotless napkins. Robert had sensed her unease, and had asked quietly whether she would prefer to eat with the servants in the kitchen, and Anna had been happy to agree until Florence intervened.

'No Robert. I know Anna ate in the kitchen when she arrived, but that was because I was not aware she was here.' She turned to Anna. 'I realise you may not be accustomed to the cutlery my dear, but I will show you which to use, it's very easy, and how will you learn if you don't try?' She motioned Anna to a seat. 'Just relax Anna, we have no guests this evening, Robert and I were dining alone. I want to get to know you better.'

After a short time Anna began to enjoy herself, especially the delicious food, which was brought to the table in large dishes from which they helped themselves. 'We are very informal tonight,' Florence smiled at her, and although Anna had no idea what was meant by this, she gathered that if guests were present it would be even more grand. The courses followed one after the other, and Anna, clearing her plate each time, began to feel very full. When the pudding came, a delicious spongy confection filled with apples, Anna blurted out, 'It's lovely, but I'm as full as a gun!'

She blushed, as Robert laughed out loud and told her she was wonderful, a breath of fresh air. Florence too was laughing, and then said kindly,

'Don't worry Anna, we are not laughing at you, but with you. Robert is quite right, it has been a tonic to have you here this weekend, and I'm so glad you will be coming regularly. Now let me give you a little advice for when we have guests, because then there will be more courses than we have had tonight.'

'More?' Anna was astounded.

'Yes, six at least and sometimes more. But my dear...' she leaned forward confidentially, 'It is not strictly necessary to eat every last scrap!'

'Oh!' Anna blushed. 'I see.' She did indeed. She had noticed Florence Nicholson leave half her food on her plate and had thought it a criminal waste, but deduced she was perhaps not feeling too well.

'Just eat a little of everything to be polite, and a little more of anything you particularly like,' Florence explained. 'Then you won't be too full.'

'And when I come here, I'll eat with you and your guests on Saturdays?' Anna asked nervously.

'Of course.'

'But I'm not sure... I don't know...'

'My dear...' Florence put a hand over Anna's and smiled at her. 'Your manners are a credit to you and your mother, you have nothing to be nervous about. I shall always seat you where you can watch me. Your behaviour is far superior to that of some of the young ladies Robert sees fit to invite.' She said this in a tone of admonition, but Robert only laughed again and said Anna would be a tonic in any company.

Anna wriggled slightly in her seat as she remembered the meal. Perhaps she shouldn't tell the girls too much about it, they might think she was showing off, especially if she told them about being put in what Florence called the second guest room, instead of the servants quarters. If that was the second guest room, Anna mused, heaven alone knows what the first must be like. So big, and a lovely fire lit, and a thick rug and an easy chair and pretty curtains, which the maid had come in to draw as Anna was getting ready for dinner. That had simply entailed putting on her Sunday chapel skirt and blouse, which was all she possessed apart from the black alpaca she wore to work, covered by a big "baggin" apron made from boiled sugar bags. Anna smiled gently to herself as she remembered how the maid had brought hot water for her to wash in the big blue and white china bowl on the washstand, and the piece of soap that smelled of violets. And then, after that wonderful meal, when she had snuggled down into the crisp white lavender scented sheets, she had given her body over to the luxurious softness of the big bed, a softness she had never realised existed, accustomed as she was to the hard straw palliase which had been handed down to her when Will left home.

The only thing that hadn't been right was her clothes. She had arrived in her black alpaca intending to change into her best skirt and blouse for the first sitting, but Robert would have none of it, and was most annoyed when he found she had not brought her "baggin" apron.

'Don't you understand Anna?' he had said crossly, pacing the big studio which ran across the back of the house. 'I want to paint you as you are, as a chainmaker... that's the whole point of the exercise, and I need you in your working clothes. You've changed your hair too,' he added accusingly.

'I just washed and curled it last night, so it would look nice for the sitting...' Anna explained, unable to understand his attitude. 'I just thought...'

'Well don't think!' Robert said firmly. 'Remember I want to paint you as a chainmaker and I want your hair just as usual, done up but some bits straggling down... how it was when I saw you at the chainshop. Although,' he added, his good humour quickly returning,'I don't object to your washing your face, or your hair either for that matter.' He reached across and took a thick lock of her hair in his hand, 'Yes,' he murmured to himself, 'Washing it will help the light... it's a lovely colour.'

He smiled, and Anna trembled slightly as she tried to recover from the shock of his hand on her hair. No man had ever touched her hair like that, stroked it and caressed it, not even Clancy Sullivan, and they had been walking out these eight months. Robert seemed oblivious to her unease, and after saying he supposed he could do the domestic picture first, went out of the room. When he returned he sat her down on a chair, gave her a traycloth and a needle and thread and told her she was supposed to be sewing.

Now Anna gazed doubtfully at the traycloth, wondering if Robert would mind if she brought some real sewing with her. It seemed such a waste of time to sit doing nothing even though she was being paid for it, and she could have turned a couple of her Dad's collars in the time she'd been sitting here...

The door opened and Florence came in, saying 'Sorry to interrupt but I wanted a word with Anna before she goes...'

'I'm finished,' said Robert, laying down his brush, 'At least for today.'

'Can I see?' Anna hopped down from the chair and hurried over to the easel. 'Oh!'

Her face mirrored the disappointment in her voice. There seemed little change from the rough composition of lines and shapes from the day before, and certainly nothing which even began to resemble herself.

'It's ...er...' She stopped, nonplussed, and Robert laughed out loud.

'It's a very good start Anna' he said, still laughing. 'I'm really pleased.'

'Yes,' Florence agreed, 'I can see the perspective is going to be right... you see Anna, it won't begin to be a real likeness for some while yet.'

'Oh I see,' Anna said, privately thinking it seemed an awful amount of time and expense just to have a picture on the wall. With all their money they could easily have gone into Dudley and bought one.

'Anyway,' Florence said firmly, 'Anna needs a cup of tea before she leaves, come along now my dear...'

She hurried out of the room, and Anna followed, but as she reached the door Robert said 'Just a second.'

He fished in his pocket and found four half crowns. 'Ten shillings, as arranged, and here's another shilling for your boat fare. I'll see you again next Saturday.'

Anna beamed. 'Thank you. Yes, I'll be here. Goodbye Mr. Nicholson... er... Robert.'

She followed Florence down the wide staircase with a feeling of real excitement, the four half crowns and the shilling almost burning her hand. It had not seemed quite real until now, but already she was planning how she would spend the money.

Florence led her to the elegant drawing room, where the maid had already brought in tea, and motioned Anna to a seat.

'My dear, I hope you will not be offended at what I am going to suggest,' she said carefully.

'Well... I don't know until I hear it.'

Florence laughed. 'Oh Anna, you are such a treat, don't ever change, will you?'

'I... I don't really know what you mean...'

'Lots of young women these days are so false, so... so devious and artful. You say just what you think, and I find that very refreshing. Anyway,' Florence continued as she handed Anna her tea, 'I wanted to tell you about next week. We are having a dinner party on Saturday evening, not many, ten or twelve at most, but I thought you might be more comfortable, er... feel more at ease, if you had something nice to wear.'

'Oh. I have my Sunday skirt and blouse... you saw them last night.'

'Yes, and they are very nice, but for a dinner party you need something a little more dressy. Nothing too frivolous, but...'

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