The Sunday Girls (31 page)

A piercing blast swept straight from the sea and whipped around my legs. My thin trenchcoat wasn’t warm enough against this onslaught and I mentally counted the hours till I could redeem my lovely coat.

With Mrs Barrie now feeling much better, I hoped I would get the chance to speak to her and get my wages. Miss Hood was in the kitchen when I arrived back and, although she still looked dreadful, her tongue was as sharp as ever. She made no sign that she was going to help and it was left to Jean and me to manhandle the heavy objects.

‘For goodness’ sake, Ann,’ Jean wailed, ‘it’s a wonder you’re not bowly-legged carrying this. What a weight!’

‘Well, that’s what she’s here for,’ snapped the housekeeper, glaring at me. ‘She’s here to do all the hard work and leave me to do my job. The one I came for – the job as a companion.’

Her glare was now replaced by a speculative glance at my old coat and I was suddenly grateful I wasn’t wearing my good one. In spite of Jean’s protestations I just knew Miss Hood would never believe I had bought it from McGill’s – or any other department store, for that matter.

As the week wore on, all my earlier optimism evaporated as I realised the housekeeper was still dealing with all of Mrs Barrie’s needs. Even when I carried the food tray upstairs, the housekeeper would suddenly materialise from the shadows on the top landing and snatch it from my hands – sometimes with a grunt but mostly in silence. I found this treatment unnerving and I began to be afraid to climb the stairs as I knew a quick, quiet shove from her would send me toppling backwards. Still, I had no option as this job was just one of many for me.

On the Thursday afternoon, she appeared as usual and grabbed the tray from my hands. Perhaps it was the rough way she grabbed it or maybe Jean had overfilled the hot water jug but some hot water splashed on to her wrist. A string of oaths came from her refined mouth and I was shocked. I was used to hearing people cursing and swearing on the streets of Dundee but to hear them being uttered by this genteel spinster took me aback.

I told Jean about the incident and she shook her head. ‘I’ve always known she was no lady – just somebody who managed to work themselves up in the theatre but, with her airs and graces, she thinks she’s nobility. Now Mrs Barrie is a lady. She comes from titled stock. Her mother married a lord and Mrs Barrie herself married into money but she as nice as nine pence and there’s nothing stuck up about her. No siree.’

I remembered something. ‘She never swore like that yon time when she splashed herself making the blackcurrant drink. Do you mind?’

‘Aye, I do but maybe she got a bigger splash of hot water this time or maybe she was distracted by Mrs Barrie’s illness last time. We’ll never know.’

I nodded gloomily. ‘Do you think she’ll take her time off this weekend?’

Jean said, ‘No, I don’t think she will – at least not the way she’s speaking at the moment. “I’ll be here as long as the mistress needs me,”’ said the cook, putting on a posh accent. ‘When it comes to speaking in a panloafy voice, well, our Lottie is a past master.’ Jean grinned. ‘Except when she’s cursing like a shipwrecked sailor.’

Although I laughed along with Jean, I was also worried. I knew Granny couldn’t possibly cope another week without my wages so I watched Miss Hood’s movements like a demented hawk. I thought she might go off to the shops but she didn’t budge an inch. Then, at breakfast time on Friday morning, a small miracle happened. Miss Hood wasn’t on the landing when I climbed the stairs so I tapped gently on Mrs Barrie’s door.

Her voice sounded much stronger. ‘Come in, Lottie, I’m awake.’

I couldn’t believe my luck as I entered and Mrs Barrie’s face broke into a big smile. ‘How lovely to see you, Ann. I’m afraid the only people I’ve seen over these last few weeks are Lottie and Doctor Little. What a pleasure to see a young face at last!’

Suddenly Miss Hood burst in. This barging in was a trait which I was beginning to notice was normal for her. She tumbled in with all the grace of Mr Bell’s pony and even that comparison was a huge slur on the pony.

I placed the tray in front of the patient and although the illness had taken its toll on her weight, her eyes were alert and bright with amusement. After all, she could hardly have failed to notice that, as the housekeeper ground to a halt, she almost toppled into the bed beside her.

‘I was saying to Ann what a lovely change to see a young face …’ She suddenly stopped as she realised her faux pas. ‘Not that I don’t enjoy looking at you, Lottie, because you’ve got me through this illness and I don’t think anyone else could have done that. Thank you …’ Her voice trailed away and she busied herself with the teapot.

Meanwhile, Lottie didn’t know where to look. On the one hand, she was full of pride at Mrs Barrie’s words of gratitude but, on the other hand, she was wild at me for breaching the cordon. I could only assume she had overslept because her hair was uncombed and her long, sagging knitted cardigan was outside in.

Mrs Barrie was still fiddling with her tray. She didn’t lift her eyes as she spoke. ‘Now, Lottie, I know you haven’t taken your time off during my illness and I’m very grateful for all your kindness in looking after me so I insist you take your time off this week.’

Miss Hood’s face drained of the little colour it had. ‘No, no, Eva, I enjoy looking after you. I’m your companion after all.’

Mrs Barrie then looked at her with a steady gaze and held up her hand. ‘No, Lottie, I insist. You look worn out and I don’t want you to fall ill as well, now, do I? What would I do if you caught this awful flu? No, my dear, go and have a restful few days off and I’ll see you on Sunday.’

‘But this is just Friday, Eva. I’ll go tomorrow as usual.’ Her voice sounded ragged, no doubt with suppressed rage.

‘No,’ said Mrs Barrie, ‘take an extra day off with my blessing and have a rest. You deserve it.’

Faced with this dismissal, she had no option but to retreat to her room and pack her small overnight case. I took advantage of this lull and made my way quickly downstairs. I knew at that moment she would be like an enraged dragon, breathing and spitting fire – the more so because I had been a witness to the exchange of dialogue.

My weekly letter from Maddie was waiting for me in the kitchen. ‘Here’s the letter from your pal,’ said Jean.

I quickly told her about the conversation upstairs and her mouth opened in surprise but, before she could utter a word, Miss Hood swept through. She was dressed in her bile-green costume and a tight-fitting cloche hat in the same nauseating colour. She looked like an alien from the planet Mars, an effect further heightened by the quickness of her step. She marched out the door at the speed of light and we watched as her retreating figure stomped across the courtyard, scattering a clutch of blackbirds that rose in a noisy, black cloud as she walked past them. The moment her stamping feet and her fury had departed, they flew back to peck once more at the kitchen crumbs.

Jean chuckled. ‘Well, well, imagine that – the mistress has sent her packing.’ She craned her neck as the housekeeper disappeared down the drive. ‘Still I don’t think she’s too upset about it. She didn’t kick the cat from along the road and it almost ran in front of her.’

‘Maybe she didn’t see it,’ I replied. ‘After all, she always walks with her nose in the air.’ What a calamity that would have been, I thought. This was certainly not her day and tripping over a roaming feline would have ended it on a high note. As usual Maddie’s letter was long and gossipy.

What a disaster to see Danny and Miss Muffet together. Still, not to worry as I’ve decided to give up on men and love and concentrate on my career. I finish my exams soon and I can apply for a nursing course. At the moment I’m helping out in Dad’s office, making the tea and posting the letters.

I laughed and Jean looked over my shoulder. ‘Good news is it?

‘No it’s just Maddie – she’s always so cheerful,’ I said, turning the page over. Maddie had added a postscript.

Good news on the job front. I’ve just heard that Willie will be leaving this summer and the job will be offered to your dad.

‘Oh, it is good news, Jean,’ I said, telling her about the job.

‘Aye, your star is ascending, Ann,’ she replied.

I looked puzzled but she explained. ‘It just means that things are beginning to look up for you and your family – you mark my words.’

As I set off upstairs to do my chores, I sincerely hoped so. Mrs Barrie had finished most of her breakfast. ‘Oh dear,’ she said, her thin shoulders drooping, ‘I think I’ve upset Lottie. She barely said goodbye. But never mind.’ She suddenly brightened up. Holding a book in her hand, she announced, ‘I’ve got the latest Agatha Christie novel so maybe you can read to me this afternoon, Ann?’

‘I’m really glad you’re looking much better Mrs Barrie. Mrs Peters and I were worried about you.’ I added hastily, ‘Miss Hood was as well.’

I had made up my mind not to mention my wages to her. I didn’t want to worry her as she still looked so frail but, at the same time, I was secretly hoping she might mention it herself.

Later that afternoon, after I had read a couple of chapters of her new novel, she lay back on her pillows, ‘Can we stop there, Ann? Maybe you can read to me again this evening. I seem to be still so weary.’

I smiled at her as I closed the book. I was on the verge of going through the door when she called me back. ‘Ann, please forgive me, I meant to ask you something but my brain seems to be suffering from the same weariness as my body. Did Miss Hood give you your wages last week? I was so worried about your grandmother that I mentioned our little secret arrangement – against my will, I have to say, but there was no other way of doing it.’

‘No, Mrs Barrie, she never mentioned it.’ A surge of anger swept over me at the thought of the horrid old woman and the memory of Granny’s hardship. The thought of the almost-empty coal bunker and the poor paltry fire made my blood boil. I might have seen the point if the money belonged to Miss Hood but it didn’t. Why she had to be so penny-pinching with me was a mystery.

‘Oh dear, she must have forgotten,’ said Mrs Barrie diplomatically. ‘Here is two weeks’ wages and you must make sure you come to see me every week without fail. Your poor family can’t exist on air.’

I was so grateful to her. With her kind, weary eyes on mine, I almost blurted out the story of the pawned coat but I knew Granny would be mortified by such an admission. I could well imagine her face. ‘You didn’t tell her that, did you? Speak about being black affronted – and her so good to us. I just hope she doesn’t think we’re a family of scroungers.’ So I stayed silent but hugged the money tightly as I ran to my room. Granny would now have enough for the coal and the food for the week. I would also be able to redeem my coat. Also the good news about Dad’s job filled me with delight and it seemed as if things were at last looking up for us.

That weekend passed in a pleasant blur. I did all my jobs happily without Miss Hood lurking over my shoulder and I read every day to Mrs Barrie. Even Jean seemed to be affected by the happier atmosphere and she laughed a lot as she cooked and baked. It all changed when the housekeeper returned. As soon as we saw her scowling face, our spirits sank but not for long because we were getting ready to leave ourselves for our time off.

I wondered if she would maybe mention my wages as instructed by Mrs Barrie but, once again, nothing was said. The old devil, I thought. As Jean and I left the kitchen, I felt sorry for leaving Mrs Barrie to the housekeeper’s tender mercies but I was also eager to return to the Overgate with the much-needed cash.

Dad and Hattie were in the house when I arrived and I thought Granny looked really tired as she stood at the cooker, stirring her large pot of soup. Dad was over the moon at the news of his job. ‘I start at the beginning of August,’ he said, ‘but I feel so sorry for our old neighbours on the Hilltown. I was speaking to Joe and he was saying that they have nothing to look forward to – no jobs and no money. It’s a bloody disgrace.’

Hattie piped up, ‘Well, your good fortune is down to me. I’m a good worker and the Pringle family appreciate it.Your good luck is thanks to that – Ann’s too. You’ve both got your jobs because of my good reputation.’ If she wasn’t blowing her own trumpet, well, she was just a hair’s breadth away from it.

Dad said as much: ‘Thank you, Hattie, for reminding us jobless and lower classes to mind our manners and doff our caps.’

I wasn’t really listening to them because, according to Granny, they had always fought with each other, right from when they were young children. The reason for my abstraction was the bruise on the side of Dad’s face. It had started life as a black eye but it was now at the purple, yellow and maroon stage. He saw me staring at it and he put a hand over it as if to cover it.

Hattie spotted this movement and crowed. ‘Got a black eye from Marlene, didn’t you know?’ She scowled at him.

He retaliated bitterly, ‘No, I did not get a black eye from Marlene – at least not intentionally. She threw a vase at me, hoping it would miss but I got a glancing blow from it.’

Hattie screeched. ‘A glancing blow my foot.You don’t get a bruise like that with a near miss. No, my lad, she meant to hit you and she did.’

Granny turned her attention away from the soup pot. ‘I take it that the romance is over?’

Dad laughed. ‘Och, there was never any romance. I was just her lodger and her pal in the pub.’ He rubbed his face ruefully. ‘She was the one that was always yapping on and on about getting married.Well, as soon as I put her right on that question, she tossed me out.’ He turned to Hattie. ‘I was hoping you could put me up for a week or two – just till I find somewhere else.’

Hattie looked doubtful.

‘I promise it’ll just be for a couple of weeks.You know Granny doesn’t have room for me as well as looking after Ann and Lily,’ said Dad, with a beseeching look. ‘Then, when I get my job we’ll be able to make a few plans, Ann and I. Please Hattie.’

Before she could answer, Granny butted in, ‘Or until you find another woman daft enough to put up with you in return for a bit of charm.’