Trapped In She Town : A Romantic Novella (The Jute Mills Series) (2 page)

Mary was to leave the
next day with the ticket having already been bought and paid for by the rich
family in Dundee. She did not get a chance to say good bye to George. She
begged her mother to let her go and speak directly with him. But she was told
there was not time as she needed to pack and prepare to leave first thing in
the morning. Her mother did agree though that she could use the last of the
candle to light her room later. There she could write a quick note to George to
tell him the unexpected and devastating news. She thought of his large capable
hands holding the little note. How would he feel? Would he feel she was running
out on him? She wrote begging him to please understand that she had no choice
in the matter, and that she still loved him dearly.

~~~

The next morning she
was washed and dressed again in her shapeless green dress. She pulled on her
thick stockings over her shapely, long legs and slid her feet into the elastic
sided boots which had been her mothers and were slightly too big. Once she had
buttoned up her old, worn, brown coat she was ready to leave. Her father had
borrowed the horse and cart from the farmer as he, Mr Brown, needed some goods
delivered to the market in Aberdeen that day. He had agreed that Mary’s father
could take the goods by cart, and also drop Mary at the station, where she
would board a train for Dundee.

She had not had any
time to get used to the idea of leaving her family, and so Mary was in shock as
she said goodbye to all her brothers and sisters, then she clung to her mother
sobbing. “There, there Mary” her mother chided.”You need to be strong. I know
you have the strength inside you to deal with this. Always remember - you will
be helping to support all of your brothers and sisters, and of course I’m sure
you will be able to come home and visit us at Christmas. Come along, let’s get
you up and on the cart” Mary climbed up onto the seat of the cart beside her
father. Her small battered case was in the back of the cart along with the
goods to be delivered to market in Aberdeen. She looked down fondly at her
family and the little cottage where she had lived and loved her whole life up
to that point.

“Gee Up!” her father
called to the horse, and they were on their way.

When they reached the
outskirts of Aberdeen, Mary looked around in wonder at the houses which were
made from the locally quarried grey, granite stone. Mary knew that Aberdeen was
nicknamed the “Granite City” but today all the houses seemed to be glittering
silver in the bright sunlight. The sunshine seemed to lift Mary’s mood slightly
and she thought to herself “This will just be for 12 months. Just until Da gets
back on his feet properly. I’ll be back in no time to marry George.”

At the station, Mary’s
father stopped the cart and helped Mary down with her case. He quickly grabbed
her to him in a big bear hug. “Mary, my own wee petal, take care. I’m sorry you
have to travel so far but the wages from this job are needed so badly at home
with all the wee uns. Look after yourself”. And he just as quickly hopped back onto
the cart and called over his shoulder, “Just follow the instructions on the
note when you get to the station at Broughty Ferry.”

Then he was away in
the direction of the market and Mary realized, all of a sudden, that she was on
her own. She felt sick to the pit of her stomach and panicked when she felt she
couldn’t breathe.

“You alright m’love” asked
an older woman who was clutching a small boy’s hand.

Mary gulped trying to
get her breathing under control. “You need to sit down.” the lady said
worriedly, as Mary kept gulping trying calm herself. “Look there’s a bench over
there. Let me help you”.
The lady helped her over to
the bench.

“Whaur’r ye aff tae love?” she enquired.

“I’ve got to get the train” replied Mary and the lady laughed.

“Yer in the right place then pet” she joked. “Whaur ‘r ye gettin the
train tae?”

“Broughty Ferry, the station before Dundee” Mary managed to get out.

“Weel, ye need to go doon them stairs there, and ask the mannie at
the bottom, which platform fir the train tae Dundee. Ye got yer ticket?”

Mary was clutching her ticket in one hand and her instructions in
the other. She nodded and gulped back the tears before they came flooding out.

“I need te be on ma way noo” the woman said. “Doon them stairs,
alright love.” Mary nodded dumbly as she couldn’t trust herself to open her
mouth to speak without crying.

The family in Dundee had paid for Mary to travel in the second class
carriage. When she saw the third class carriages she nearly wept with relief.
The passengers were standing in what looked like cattle trucks. Soon Mary was
settled on the train and when it left a few minutes later with a screech of the
whistle and a great belch of smoke she was shunted forwards in her seat and
held on to the arm rest tightly with a look of fright on her face.

Then as the trains wheels moved rhythmically beneath her, Mary cried
softly, watching the rolling, grey North Sea through a mist of tears.

After almost 3 hours on the train, Mary eventually arrived at
Broughty Ferry train station. She placed her bonnet on top of her curls and
then grabbed her gloves and her small battered case, and alighted from the
train. It was a small station slightly below street level and Mary walked along
the platform towards a painted sign that said “EXIT”. Once she had shown her
ticket to the station master, she climbed the flight of stairs that led to
street level. She felt in her pocket for the piece of paper where the instructions
to the Muir’s House were written, in an unfamiliar hand.

Mary looked at the crumpled piece of paper that she had held tightly
in her hand for the whole journey.

Directions to Tay
View House from Broughty Ferry Station

Take the stairs
from the platform

Left
at the top

Walk
200 yards until you reach the Dundee Road……..

Once she reached the main thoroughfare leading to Dundee she was to
turn left again, and follow this road for about a mile, before turning up the
hill and left into Stathern Road

Broughty Ferry was a small seaside village on the outskirts of
Dundee. In this eastern boundary of the city, around the Strathern Road, was to
be found one of the richest square miles on the planet at this time. This was
where many of the rich, jute barons, who owned the mills in Dundee, built their
own palatial mansions, away from the grime and smell of industrial Dundee. It
was here that Mr Muir, her new employer, had built his grand home, far removed
from his ugly jute mill with its tall chimneys belching out dirty, black smoke
and the filthy living quarters of his hundreds of workers.

As Mary headed along Strathern Road she passed with wonder the many
stunning mansions, all protected behind large gates and high walls. It was like
another world to Mary. She had never seen anything like them before, and even
in the stories she had read, these were beyond anything she had ever imagined.

Mary at last came
across the imposing gates of Tay View House. The double, ironwork gates towered
above her and to the side was a single gate for pedestrians to pass through.
Inside the gates she saw a large, sweeping, circular driveway leading up to the
magnificent front entrance. At first sight Mary was stunned – would she really
be living in this house?

The house itself had been built six years previously in 1865
for Mr Muir, the jute mill owner by the architects James MacLaren and George
Shaw Aitken. It was an asymmetrical French chateau style house with extensive
accommodation over two floors, along with a basement and plenty of attic space
for the servant’s quarters. It had a slate roof with many pointed stacks. The
inside boasted 14 bedrooms and five reception rooms with extensive manicured
gardens and stables where the horses and carriages were kept. Each room had
beautiful decorative cornices and fireplaces, and all the main rooms had large
bay windows. The large wood-panelled reception hall, as you entered the main
front door, had a beautifully tiled floor and there was an impressive central
staircase which led from the hall to the upper floor. There were wonderful
views from the house over Broughty Ferry and across the River Tay to Fife.

The extensive gardens ran all around the house, and to the
front there was a large level lawn extending 20 yards until it reached a steeply
sloping wooded bank that ran down the hill, until it met the road and the 3
pier gate.

Mary pulled herself
together and carried on past the main gate as instructed, where about 200 yards
further along, she found a narrow green door in the high wall that surrounded
the boundary of the house. She pushed the door open and stepped into the
grounds. Here, she followed a narrow path which led up the incline, through
some trees around to the side of the huge house where eventually she came to a
black door with a large, brass knocker.

She hesitated,
suddenly feeling very small and alone. She was frightened of what might be on
the other side of the door. She had never been in a house of this size before.
What sort of people would be living on the other side?

Eventually, Mary
lifted her arm, which felt like it was made of lead, grabbed the knocker and
rapped twice. The door was opened immediately as if the person had been
standing behind the door waiting for her to knock.

She was
unceremoniously pulled inside by an older woman in a blue gingham dress and
apron.

“Yer here at last. Come awa in noo. The mistress has been askin and
askin where you’ve been” the woman said.

“But... but the train just arrived and I came straight here as
quickly as I could” started Mary.

“No buts, missy, come along. Here ye are. Here’s a quick cuppa tea.
I’ll get Bessie for you” and she was ushered into a small room off the hallway.

“
B E S S I E!”
the woman bellowed.

Mary could see some young men and women, dressed in the uniform of
the house, in the kitchen at the end of the corridor. They were peering through
the doorway at her and covering their mouths with their hands and laughing. She
felt very self conscious – was it her old tattered dress and worn coat? She
felt the tears welling again, which made them laugh even louder.

“Shuddup you lot” shouted a young, thin, fair-haired girl, dressed
in a grey dress with a dazzling white apron and bonnet on. “Don’t mind them.
You must be Mary, Miss Lucy’s new maid. I’m Bessie, lady’s maid to Mrs Muir.
I’m going to show you the ropes and give you a hand for the first few days,
until you get used to the routine”.

Mary was so grateful to see a smiling, friendly face and she gave a
watery smile back as best she could.

“Look at the state of you though. There’s no time to be wasted.
Let’s get you upstairs and ready.”

Mary was bustled up a wooden spiralling staircase - up and up until
they came to the attic rooms in the eaves of the house.

Bessie showed Mary where to dump her bag, in a little room with 2 single
beds squeezed in.

“You’ll be sharing this room with me” Bessie informed her.

All Mary wanted to do was to lie down on the bed and shut out
everything. Things were moving too fast, there were too many new things to take
in.

“Come Mary” Bessie said. “You need to get ready to meet the mistress
and her daughter Lucy. I’ve been looking after both the mistress and Miss Lucy
since Edie left so suddenly. But Miss Lucy is so keen that you start straight
away. You were highly recommended you know. Miss Lucy likes her maid to be able
to read to her fluently and she does love to discuss her novels, does our Miss
Lucy. Goes right over the top of my head, so it does. She wouldn’t have any of
the girls here to help. You’ll be expected to read aloud to her in the evenings.
She has been getting quite frustrated at my attempts, so I am very glad that
you are here Mary”.

Bessie showed Mary into another tiny room, two doors down from their
bedroom. Mary was amazed; there was a toilet bowl and sink inside the house, as
well as a bath tub.

“That will be hard work lugging the water up all these narrow stairs
for a bath” thought Mary to herself.

“Right, I’ll leave you to get washed Mary, then I’ll check your hair
for nits. Usually we are allowed one bath a week on our day off, however Mrs
Smythe has said you are to be allowed a bath today to wash off the grime of
your journey.”

“Thank you for being so kind Bessie, but I would just like to lie
down for now if that is fine with you” Mary managed to stutter.

“Sorry Mary, but there is no time. The mistress is expecting you and
it is best not to keep her waiting. You’ll find that out soon enough” Bessie
replied ominously.

Mary sighed and resignedly asked Bessie “All right then, but where
do I get the water from. I don’t know if I will have the strength to carry it
up all these stairs”.