This time she had crossed the line. She presumed too much. She let her in-between status lead her to believe we were true friends—sisters, even. She’d let it lead her to believe she could speak that way to me about my mother. I didn’t have to say another word. She saw the look on my face, and we both knew there was no mending this. I could never look at her the same way again. I could never trust her. She had to go.
The in-between tried to mutter more apologies, but I cut her off before she could say another word. I hastily stuffed some banknotes I got from the desk in an envelope and put it in her hand.
“Here is your severance, Miss Pricket.”
“You’re dismissing me?” Her mouth hung open. Though I couldn’t fathom her thinking I would keep her on after everything she had said.
“Of course I am. Don’t be foolish. I couldn’t possibly keep you on.”
It was such a strange yet liberating feeling taking charge in this way. I realized in that moment I was on the precipice of a new chapter in my life. I was becoming a lady, and with that came enormous responsibility. I felt very sure my mama would be proud of me for taking charge in this way. Not only for taking control over my own life but for defending her. Miss Pricket had, until that moment, been a very important part of my life, but I couldn’t have her or anyone else creating a wedge between me and my mama. She had overstepped the mark, that invisible line that divides us from our servants. And it was a very important lesson—I would not let myself become emotionally involved with anyone from my staff again.
“But I have nowhere to go.” Her eyes filled with tears, but my heart had closed off to her. Her tears didn’t sway me.
“That is of no consequence to me. You may stay the night in your quarters. But I don’t wish to see you here tomorrow morning.”
She said nothing. She just stood there in dis-belief, tears rolling down her face. She looked utterly heartbroken. “Off you go then. Goodbye, Miss Pricket.” As she turned her back to leave, I could see she was sobbing even harder, but silently. She turned the knob slowly, shaking as she opened the door. “Enjoy your new life, Miss Pricket. Oh, and when you leave tomorrow, be sure to leave by the servants’ entrance.” She looked back at me, tears streaming down her face.
“I loved you so well, Cruella. And I hope with all my heart you don’t become a cruel, sad, and lonely woman, like your mother.”
I slammed the door behind her, closing that chapter of my life once and for all.
In my household the servants had their holiday celebration on Christmas Eve. It had been that way since I was a girl, and I didn’t see any reason to change it. When my grandparents were alive my parents and I would dine with them at their estate, leaving the house to the servants so they could have a celebration of their own without having to fuss over us. Later, after my grandparents passed, we would dine with friends of my father or mother. This year, with my mama away and Papa gone, and with no invitations to speak of, Anita and I found ourselves home on Christmas Eve.
We couldn’t very well go out for dinner without a proper escort now that Miss Pricket had been dismissed. So we were forced to stay home. I spoke to Jackson about it, assuring him Anita and I would be fine if Mrs. Baddeley prepared us something and sent it up on a tray. I didn’t want to ruin their celebration. And I especially wanted to extend some holiday cheer since they were all likely curious what happened with Miss Pricket. The last thing I needed was Mama coming home to an empty house with no servants. I counted on Jackson to spread the word about Miss Pricket and dispel any fears they may have about the De Vil household cutting back on servants like many of the larger households had been doing as of late.
“She spoke unkindly to me about Lady De Vil,” was all I had to say. Jackson understood. And I could tell he thought I had done the right thing.
As I was talking to Jackson, the Spider came skittering into the room like a walking nightmare on two legs. “Miss Cruella, I have advised downstairs that you and Miss Anita will be home this evening. Please ring if you need anything at all. Dinner will be served in the dining room at eight.” I blinked at her, trying to decide if she was as frightful as my mind had originally conjured.
She was. Frightful and odious.
“As I was just telling Jackson, something on a tray for dinner will be fine, Mrs. Web. I don’t want to interrupt your festivities this evening. Anita and I will be quite happy to spend a quiet evening together. We will have our Christmas dinner tomorrow as we always have.”
“But Lady De Vil gave other instructions, Miss Cruella, and Mrs. Baddeley has been downstairs cooking all day. She’s created a feast. I wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”
“So this is something you and Lady De Vil discussed, but you didn’t see fit to share it with me until now?” I had broken protocol. I had admitted I didn’t know something. I’d admitted my mother didn’t share her plans with me. But I continued without missing a beat.
“But what about your celebration? I had intended to present you with your gifts this evening before your Christmas meal. If you’re all busy preparing a feast and cleaning up afterwards, when will you have time for your celebration?”
“During breakfast tomorrow, as your mother instructed.”
“During breakfast? Oh, that won’t do, Mrs. Web. Does that sound fair to you, Anita?” Anita shook her head, but she didn’t say anything. Sweet Anita hated conflict. “I’d hate to break with tradition, Mrs. Web,” I continued. “And I don’t want to deprive the staff of their festivities. They work so hard all year, and this is their treat for being so devoted and loyal.”
I waited for Mrs. Web to challenge me, but she just pursed her lips and stayed silent.
“Then it’s decided. We will proceed as usual, as we have for many years before you joined our household.” I wanted things to be as they were in the years before Papa passed and before Mama went away. Everything had gone so terribly wrong after Papa’s death, and I thought that maybe if I could recapture our Christmas celebrations of the past, and not let this vile woman change everything, Mama would come around to me. Of course, I couldn’t have been more wrong. I was flying in the face of my mother’s instructions. But the young don’t always make the wisest decisions, no matter how well intended they may be.
The Spider just looked at me, unblinking. I assumed she didn’t want to contradict me or my mother. So she stood silently until Jackson broke the uncomfortable silence.
“Miss Cruella, I know Mrs. Baddeley would be terribly upset if her holiday feast went to waste. She’s been hard at work all day.”
“I have an idea!” Anita said. Sweet Anita. Caring Anita. Always looking out for the underdog. Always wanting to do good. She would do anything to make people happy, especially people she was fond of. Funny how, in the end, she couldn’t do the same for me.
But I’m jumping ahead. That part of the story doesn’t come until later.
“I saw how much food Mrs. Baddeley was preparing downstairs,” Anita said. “It’s far too much for just the two of us. There’s more than enough for everyone. What if we invite the staff to join us for Christmas dinner? And afterwards they can continue the celebration downstairs as they like.”
“That’s very kind of you, Miss Anita, but rather unorthodox,” said the odious Spider. “Lady De Vil would be angry to learn the servants dined upstairs.”
The last thing I wanted to do was agree with that woman, even though she was right. My mother would be livid. But the look on Anita’s face was so sincere, and I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to do something nice for her after everything she’d done for me since my father had passed away. So I suggested an alternative.
“Well, if the staff wouldn’t object, perhaps Anita and I could join you downstairs and we can share the meal together.” I looked to Jackson because I valued his opinion more. Unlike Mrs. Web, he had been with our family for many years, even before I was born. The only other person who had known me that long was Miss Pricket. Perhaps if things hadn’t gone the way
they did, I would be asking her about Christmas dinner now.
“We wouldn’t stay downstairs with you all evening, mind you. Just for dinner, and then we would leave you to continue your celebration after we’ve gone upstairs. We wouldn’t need you for the rest of the evening, I promise, as long as Jackson sets out the grog tray, and perhaps a little tray of sandwiches in the event we get peckish before bed,” I said, looking at Jackson and hoping he would agree.
I thought that was the most suitable way out of our dilemma. “And before dinner I can give you our gifts. I am sure Lady De Vil wishes she could be here to present them to you herself, but I will have to do.”
“Miss Cruella.” The Spider’s face was pinched tight. “This is very out of the ordinary, and I’m not sure your mother would approve.” I smiled my sweetest smile at the woman. Looking back on all of this now, I have to wonder if I wasn’t just happy to be in opposition to Mrs. Web. I wasn’t even thinking about how all of this would make Mama feel. I had convinced myself she would be happy I took charge and made sure to uphold our family traditions. But I’m not sure that was my strongest motivation.
“I’d like to hear what Jackson thinks. He’s been taking care of this family since before I was born, and I think he is the best judge. Jackson, do you agree with Mrs. Web? Do you think my mother would object if we combined Christmas celebrations this evening?”
Jackson narrowed his eyes at the Spider. “I do believe she would, Miss Cruella.”
“But Jackson, I was so looking forward to presenting you with your gifts, and I don’t want to deprive the staff of their celebration. I will be terribly disappointed if we can’t find a way around this.”
Jackson smiled. He could never deny me anything. Not since I was a child, and I really wanted to win this battle with Mrs. Web.
“Well, Miss Cruella, the last thing I want to do is disappoint you.”
I had always liked Jackson. Out of all our staff he was most like a member of the family. Always there. Always loyal. Always on my side. And after my father passed, always looking out for me. It’s true, I had resented his attentions and the somber looks he gave when my mama set off on her trip, but he never spoke ill of her. In that moment, as his usually somber face broke into an indulgent smile just for me, he reminded me so much of my papa, who I was missing terribly. I didn’t understand why it had taken me so long to see Jackson in this way. Really see him. The way I had seen him when I was young. I’d adored him when I was small. He always took a special interest in me. And he was doing so again.
Perhaps it was the magic of Christmas, or perhaps I was just happy to have someone to side with me against the Spider, but I saw Jackson clearly that day. And we had won the battle together, Jackson and I. We were allies in combat against the wretched Spider.
“Then it’s all set! We will all have Christmas dinner together downstairs. It will be a scream!”
Before dinner, Anita and I changed. I remember feeling liberated by not having to dress up for dinner. If we had been eating upstairs in the dining room with Mama we would have had to dress like we were having the Queen for dinner. As it was, we both wore something simple and comfortable. I didn’t even wear the earrings Papa gave me.
The servants’ hall was decorated with a colorful garland made of paper rings that were chain-linked together, alternating red and green. There were festive bits of holly and sprigs of pine tied with red ribbons that hung in the doorways. In the corner near the fireplace was a small tree, decorated with strings of popcorn and cranberries, and faded gold beads that glistened in the firelight.
It was much more cheerful downstairs than I remembered. I hadn’t spent much time in the servants’ hall; most of my visits were to the kitchen. Anita and I said hello to Mrs. Baddeley as we came down the stairs, but we were shooed away and told to close our eyes. “I’m making something special for you, dears! No peeking!”
Anita and I laughed. It felt like the old days.
The kitchen was separated from the servants’ hall by a large hutch that was built into the wall. There was a hinged, shuttered window in the middle of the hutch that could be opened so those inside the servants’ hall and the kitchen could pass things back and forth and speak to each other without having to go around to the other entrance.
The hall had a long dining table that was already set with old-fashioned Churchill Blue Willow patterned dishes. On the other side of the room was a large fireplace and mantel, with two chairs facing the fire, which I assumed were Jackson’s and Mrs. Baddeley’s. Between the chairs was a small wooden round table, and there were a number of small pillows on an old rug I remembered having in the morning room when I was a child. I supposed that is where the other servants sat when they weren’t at the dining table, perhaps to warm themselves by the fire while drinking their cocoa before bedtime. It was a cozy place.
“I’m so happy you decided to have Christmas dinner down here with the staff, Cruella,” said Anita, beaming. “It would have been lonely upstairs just the two of us. I always felt Christmas was a time to spend with your family.” Anita saw me flinch at the word family, but I wasn’t angry with her. I understood what she meant. It was a time for family, and I was missing my papa and mama more than ever.
“I understand. You think of Mrs. Baddeley and Jackson as family.”
“I thought of Miss Pricket as family as well.” Her voice was sad, but there was something else in there, too.
“I know you’re disappointed, Anita, but I don’t wish to talk about Miss Pricket. Not now, anyway. Not in front of the other servants.”
“But you do think of them as family, don’t you?” she asked.
I thought about it. “Perhaps not in the same way you do, Anita. But I love that they treat you like a member of the family. Because to me you are a dear sister.”
“And you are mine, Cruella. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
Oh, how it breaks my heart to think Anita and I are no longer close. That she no longer loves me as she once did. But I shouldn’t digress. Those were happy days. At least I thought they were. The days before Anita betrayed me, when she was practically my world.
But back to Christmas Eve. Anita and I were in the servants’ hall taking a look around when Mrs. Baddeley abruptly opened the shutters, her red, happy face peering through the hutch window.
“Miss Cruella, hello, my dear. I’m sorry I shooed you away.”
I smiled at the woman. “I understand you’re up to your old tricks again, whipping up some sort of surprise! I bet I can guess what it might be!” I imagined raspberry jellies as far as the eye could see, and laughed to myself.
“Never you mind about that, Cruella! You will just have to wait!” She closed the shutter doors again with a dramatic and playful snap. Anita smiled at me.
“See, she isn’t so bad. I know she annoys you, but she’s actually a very sweet woman, and she loves you very much.”
It had never occurred to me that Mrs. Baddeley loved me. Not until Anita said so. And it made me wonder—had I had it all wrong? Maybe she had always loved me, the way Jackson had, since I was a little girl. Why had it taken me so long to understand that? I suddenly felt so ashamed for sending Miss Pricket away. It was almost like the woman I had been in that moment was an entirely different person than the woman I was now. And she had come out without my knowledge or permission. I didn’t like that person inside me who said and did mean, awful things. But sometimes it felt as if I had no control over her.
I desperately wanted to talk to Anita about it, but not then. It would have to wait until after dinner. The thoughts swirling through my head were too strange to say out loud in this cheerful room. Something within me was changing, something I couldn’t explain.
But there wasn’t time to slip away and talk. Everyone was making their way to the servants’ hall and taking their places around the table.
I was offered Jackson’s seat at the head of the table, but I declined, choosing to sit by Anita with our backs
to the hutch so we would be facing the fireplace and the little tree. “No, Jackson, that place of honor is for you. I won’t take it. I’m your guest this evening,” I said. Mrs. Baddeley seemed touched by my saying that, and I wondered if there wasn’t something between them. I’d often heard stories of butlers and cooks finding love in their older age. Sometimes it was the butler and the head housekeeper. But something about the way Mrs. Baddeley looked at Jackson made me wonder if there was some spark there, and I wondered if it was mutual. Jackson, of course, was too stoic to let on even if he did have feelings for the woman.
As I looked around the table, I noticed someone was missing. “Where is Mrs. Web?” I asked.
“Oh, she takes her meals in her sitting room,” said Mrs. Baddeley, rolling her eyes and making a funny gesture with her hands as if she were the fanciest woman alive.
“Oh, does she? So Miss High-and-Mighty is too grand to eat with the other servants?” I asked, making everyone laugh and breaking the ice. It was so lovely to see all of them at the table, smiling and enjoying themselves. All of the housemaids were talking and giggling when Mrs. Baddeley interrupted their reverie.
“Mr. Jackson, could we perhaps have Jean turn on the wireless? I think there is a Christmas concert tonight.”
Jackson’s face brightened.
“That’s a wonderful idea, Mrs. Baddeley, and while we’re at it, I don’t see the harm in getting a bottle from the cellar. It is Christmas, after all,” he said with a wink.
It was such a grand evening of eating, drinking, and listening to Christmas music on the wireless. Anita had thought to bring down some Christmas crackers, so everyone was wearing festive paper hats while we dined on Mrs. Baddeley’s magnificent feast.
“I would like to propose a toast,” I said, standing up. “To Mrs. Baddeley, for this delicious meal!”
“To Mrs. Baddeley!” everyone cheered. Even Jackson looked festive, wearing his paper crown merrily, even though we’d had to talk him into wearing it at first. It was a happy night, full of laughter, food, and, yes, family.
Evil Thing Page 8
