Spitfire Girl

by Lily Baxter

  ‘I could make the soup,’ Susan said eagerly. ‘I’d be glad to do something to help.’

  Roz brightened visibly. ‘You can cook? How marvellous. I can, after a fashion, but it’s not something I like doing.’ She drained her cup, and stood up. ‘I’d best get dressed. Mrs Delaney will be here soon. She’s our charlady and she’s a real treasure. I don’t know what we’d do without her.’ She was halfway out of the room when someone knocked on the back door. She hesitated, wrapping her dressing gown more tightly around her slim figure. ‘Answer that for me, Susan, there’s a dear. It might be Mrs D.’

  Susan went to open the door with Charlie on her heels. He bounded outside and jumped up at a small boy wearing school uniform, almost knocking him over in his excitement. ‘I’m so sorry,’ Susan said, grabbing Charlie by the collar. ‘Are you all right?’

  The boy squared his shoulders. ‘I’m fine. Who are you?’

  ‘Is that you, Terry?’ Roz called from the kitchen. ‘Is anything wrong?’

  He craned his neck in an attempt to see her. ‘It’s me mum, miss. She took a tumble on the icy pavement last night and broke her ankle. She had to go to hospital in an ambulance and they put her leg in a plaster. She says she’s very sorry but she can’t come to work today.’

  Roz came to the door. In the early morning light and without the benefit of makeup, she looked pale and vulnerable. Her eyes widened with concern. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Terry. But she mustn’t even try to come back until the doctor says it’s all right. Tell her we’ll manage somehow and I’ll pop in and see her when I’ve got a moment.’

  He tipped his cap. ‘I will, miss. Got to go or I’ll be late for school.’ He bounded off through the back yard and disappeared into the garden with Charlie hot on his heels.

  ‘Come back, you bad dog.’ Susan made to follow them but Roz caught her by the sleeve.

  ‘Don’t worry. Terry’s a smart kid. He won’t let Charlie out of the garden.’ Shivering, she retreated into the comparative warmth of the kitchen. ‘God alone knows how we’ll manage without Mrs D. I can’t do the cleaning as well as the cooking and serving in the bar.’ She paused, turning to Susan with a sudden smile. ‘It’s a sign. It was meant to be.’

  Susan frowned. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Don’t you see? Poor Mrs D’s accident is terrible for her, but you know what they say about an ill wind. Well, it blew you here and there’s a job vacancy, if you’re willing to take over the cleaning until she’s back on both feet. You say you can cook too.’ Roz threw up her hands. ‘Alleluia! Problem solved. You can stay here rent free and I’ll pay you a wage. It’s perfect.’ She hesitated, staring anxiously at Susan. ‘You will do it, won’t you? I mean I wouldn’t stop you looking for other more suitable employment, but it would help both of us in the short term.’

  Susan’s head was spinning. It seemed too good to be true. She was sorry for Mrs Delaney, but thanks to the poor woman’s misfortune her most pressing worries had been relieved, if only temporarily. ‘I’d be glad to help out,’ she said, smiling. ‘Where shall I start? With the soup or with a mop and bucket?’

  Roz pointed to the larder. ‘There’s a pile of veggies in the rack and a couple of beef bones in the meat safe outside the back door. I’ll leave the rest to you. And the bar opens at ten thirty, so it will have to be cleaned and ready. Do you think you can manage?’

  Thinking back to the long hours she had spent working to Mrs Kemp’s exacting standards, Susan smiled and nodded. ‘Don’t worry. Leave it all to me.’

  ‘How often I’ve longed to hear those words.’ Roz blew her a kiss. ‘Now I’m going to take my five inches of water and wallow in it, if that’s possible.’ She danced out of the kitchen, leaving Susan to face what seemed to be an uphill task, but she was ready for anything. The relief of having a roof over her head for the foreseeable future gave her all the encouragement she needed to roll up her sleeves and start work.

  After a quick exploration of the kitchen cupboards and the meat safe hanging on the outside wall, she found everything she needed to begin preparing the soup. With the bones simmering on the stove, she set about cleaning, peeling and chopping the vegetables. Suddenly she felt at home. It was good to be needed, and to find a way of repaying Roz and her father for their kindness. She worked with a will, and when she had tidied the kitchen she set out to clean and tidy the bar. There were glasses left from the night before and ashtrays spilling over on the tables, but she went about her task with enthusiasm.

  Bob put in an appearance just before opening time and was suitably impressed. ‘Roz has just told me that you’re willing to help out,’ he said, looking round with an approving nod. ‘I really appreciate this, Susan. I always feel slightly guilty for putting so much on her. She never complains, but sometimes I think this is not the best environment for a young woman.’

  Susan picked up the tin of polish and tucked the dusters in her apron pocket. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t think that.’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I hope not, but she doesn’t meet the right sort of bloke. I’m beginning to think that it might be a good thing if you girls have to do war work or join the forces. It would get you out of the village and let you see a bit of the world before you settle down.’ He glanced at the clock as someone rattled the door. ‘Opening time. Thanks for stepping up, Susan. I’m truly grateful.’ He crossed the floor, moving swiftly for a large man, and opened the door.

  Susan picked up the mop and bucket and was about to retreat to the kitchen when she heard the now familiar cut-glass tones of Elspeth Peterson.

  ‘It’s too annoying, Bob,’ she said, stepping over the threshold. ‘I’ve lost an earring. I thought it might have fallen onto the floor in the bar.’

  Bob glanced over his shoulder. ‘Did you find anything this morning, Susan?’

  ‘I didn’t find any jewellery when I swept the floor,’ Susan said, shaking her head. ‘But if I come across it I’ll put it somewhere safe.’

  ‘So this is your new charwoman?’ Elspeth said thoughtfully.

  ‘You’ve heard about Mrs Delaney’s accident, I suppose.’ Bob took his position behind the bar. ‘Susan’s kindly stepped into the breach.’

  ‘Yes, I did. It’s a frightful nuisance. She cleans for me in the afternoons, and goodness knows how long she’ll be laid up.’ Elspeth cast a speculative glance in Susan’s direction. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to do another two or three hours a day, would you? You look young and strong, and my house is teensy-weensy compared to the Grange, so it wouldn’t take you long to get around. Besides which, there’s only the two of us, and my darling husband is hardly ever at home.’ She shot a glance at Bob beneath her long lashes. ‘He finds his barfly cronies much more interesting than his long-suffering wife.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true, Elspeth.’

  She turned her lambent gaze on Susan. Her red lips pouted prettily and she smiled. ‘You will help me out, won’t you?’

  ‘I – er – I’m not certain how much work there is for me here, Mrs Peterson.’

  Bob gave her a reassuring smile. ‘It’s entirely up to you, Susan. If you think you can cope with the work then it’s all right by me. Anyway, I’m sure that Elspeth is a much more generous employer than me.’

  ‘Chars are like gold dust. I’ll double whatever Bob is paying you.’ Elspeth opened her handbag and took out a bulging purse. She thrust a pound note into the pocket of Susan’s apron. ‘Think of that as a retainer, my dear. I’ll see you at two o’clock this afternoon. Bob will point you in the right direction.’ She snapped her bag shut and swept out of the bar without giving Susan a chance to argue.

  Bob shook his head. ‘I’ve known Elspeth since she was a gangly schoolgirl, and I’ve never known her fail to get what she wants.’ He paused, frowning. ‘Except perhaps the husband she thinks she deserves. But that’s none of my business.’ He opened the till and began counting the coins. ‘You don’t have to do as she says,
Susan. But it might be a stepping stone to a more permanent position. The Colbys are very influential round here.’

  Roz was not so sanguine when she heard Susan’s news. Her eyes narrowed and she tossed her head. ‘You’d have to be desperate to work for that bitch.’

  Susan recoiled at her tone. ‘Isn’t that a bit unfair? Just because she isn’t happy in her marriage doesn’t make her a bad person.’

  Roz turned away to fill a bowl with soup. ‘Don’t take any notice of me, Susan. It’s a personal thing and it shouldn’t prevent you from taking the job, particularly if it means you can save a bit of money. Who knows what’s going to happen in this beastly war? Anyway, if she likes you she might take you for a spin in her Tiger Moth. That wretched plane is the real love of her life.’

  ‘She’s got an aeroplane?’ Suddenly Susan felt weak at the knees. She could not imagine anyone, let alone a spoilt beauty like Elspeth, having enough money to purchase their own aircraft.

  Roz put the bowl on the tray and proceeded to fill another. ‘Pass me a couple of bread rolls, please. There are two hungry factory workers waiting for their lunch.’ She ladled the soup. ‘Yes, Elspeth got her pilot’s licence after she met Martin. They were both members of the same flying club. It’s all right for some. That cow has never done a day’s work in her whole life, and never likely to either.’ She piled the plates onto a tray. ‘By the way, the soup smells delicious. I’ll have some for my lunch if the gannets in the bar don’t finish it up.’

  Susan automatically wiped the table with a damp dishcloth, scooping the breadcrumbs into the sink. The thought of knowing someone who actually owned an aeroplane was stunning. She could barely wait for two o’clock when she was due at the Petersons’ house.

  Riding Roz’s bicycle through the picture postcard village streets, Susan followed the map that Bob had sketched on the back of a beer mat. The Petersons’ house was about three miles from Hamble, set amongst a stand of oak trees on the banks of the river. From Elspeth’s description, Susan had been expecting to find a suburban villa or a modest cottage, but as she approached the double wrought-iron gates and the long drive leading up to a seventeenth-century mansion, she realised that she had been misled.

  She dismounted and opened the gates, which swung effortlessly on well-oiled hinges. Closing them again, she pushed the bike slowly towards the house, taking in every detail of the Jacobean frontage with mullioned windows and a studded oak front door set beneath a stone arch. If this was Elspeth’s idea of a modest dwelling, Susan could only hazard a guess as to the grandeur of Colby Grange. She propped the bike up against the wall and rang the doorbell. She waited, shifting nervously from one foot to the other for what seemed like ages, but eventually, just as she was about to ring again, she heard approaching footsteps. The door opened and Elspeth greeted her with a frown. ‘It’s customary for staff to use the tradesmen’s entrance,’ she said crossly.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’

  ‘Well, you do now.’ Elspeth held the door open. ‘Come in anyway, but remember what I said the next time you come.’ She turned her back on Susan and tip-tapped across the flagstone floor on her high heels.

  Stepping over the threshold Susan found herself in a spacious wainscoted entrance hall with a polished oak staircase leading up to a galleried landing. She half expected to see suits of armour standing to attention at the foot of the stairs, with crossed halberds and broadswords decorating the walls, but it seemed that Elspeth’s taste ran to slightly more modern furnishings. Even so, it was obvious even to a layman that the chairs, side table and monk’s bench were genuine antiques. She led the way through a maze of narrow passages to a large kitchen at the back of the building. Despite the quarry-tiled floor and oak beams there was a modern range and an electric cooker. The walls were lined with glass-fronted cupboards and sturdy floor units.

  A Belfast sink, large enough to act as a bath for a small child, sat beneath a lattice window overlooking a courtyard and a stable block.

  ‘This is Mrs Harper’s domain,’ Elspeth said with a vague wave of her hand. ‘She lives in a flat above the stable block and she has every afternoon off between two and five, so you can start work in the kitchen and scullery.’ She indicated a side door. ‘You’ll find all the cleaning materials in the broom cupboard, and there’s a vacuum cleaner which you’ll use for the carpets in the reception rooms and bedrooms. Mrs Delaney has her own routine, although I haven’t the faintest idea as to how she goes about her tasks. Anyway, I’ll leave you to work it out for yourself.’

  Susan looked round the large room in dismay. ‘Am I supposed to clean the whole house in one afternoon?’

  Elspeth raised a pencilled eyebrow. ‘Mrs Delaney manages and you’re a good twenty years her junior. Obviously most of the bedrooms are unused unless we’re entertaining, so they just need dusting and vacuuming, but I’ve no doubt you’ll manage.’

  ‘Do you mind telling me how many bedrooms there are?’

  ‘Six and two bathrooms. I told you this is not a large house.’ Elspeth glanced at her watch. ‘It’s ten past two. I’ll expect you to work until ten past five to make up for lost time. I may be generous, Susan, but I expect to get my money’s worth.’ She walked towards the door, pausing to glance over her shoulder. ‘I’m going to my room to change and then I’ll be in the hangar with the Moth. Should anyone telephone, you’ll find me there.’

  In the hangar with the Moth. Susan’s heart missed a beat. She had not doubted Roz when she had told her about the aeroplane, but to be this close to a real flying machine had made her pulses race. ‘You have your own aeroplane.’

  ‘Yes, and I like to do my own maintenance.’ Elspeth threw back her head and laughed. ‘Don’t look so surprised. I’m a qualified pilot and I know enough about engines to keep mine tuned and in good order.’

  Susan stared at her in amazement. It was almost impossible to imagine Elspeth getting her hands dirty, but now the subject of the aeroplane had been broached it gave her a chance to ask the question that had been on her lips from the moment Elspeth had offered her the job. ‘Could I – I mean, would you let me see your aeroplane one day? I’ve read everything I can about Tiger Moths, but I’ve never been close to one.’

  ‘Really?’ Elspeth was suddenly alert. ‘You’re not just saying that?’

  ‘No, honestly, I’d give anything to go up in a plane. My ambition has always been to fly one, but I know it’s impossible.’

  ‘I suppose that’s true for a girl like you.’ Elspeth frowned thoughtfully. ‘However, if you work well for me who knows what might happen? There is one thing I must make clear: I expect complete loyalty from my staff, and the utmost discretion at all times.’

  Susan had been too well schooled by Mrs Kemp to show any surprise. ‘I understand.’

  Elspeth’s tawny eyes narrowed, giving her the look of a big cat on the prowl. ‘You’re obviously getting on well with Roz Fuller.’

  ‘She’s been very good to me.’

  ‘You’re much of an age, and no doubt share girlish secrets.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that. We only met yesterday.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I was forgetting that. You looked so at home in the bar when I came looking for my errant husband. But apparently he’d arrived just minutes before I did.’ Elspeth’s smile did not quite reach her eyes and her mouth hardened into a painted line.

  ‘That’s right,’ Susan said, making a move towards the broom cupboard. ‘Perhaps I’d better make a start.’

  Elspeth’s hand shot out to catch her by the sleeve. ‘I’m very good to those who serve me well. But I’m not a person to cross. Do you understand what I’m saying, Susan?’

  Chapter Eleven

  If the house in Elsworthy Road had seemed large, the Petersons’ establishment was enormous. Dave’s flat would have easily fitted into the drawing room. By the time she had finished cleaning the upstairs Susan was beginning to think that Mrs Delaney was a miracle worker, a sentiment obviously share
d by Mrs Harper, who had begun preparing the evening meal when Susan returned briefly to fetch a clean duster. She looked Susan up and down, shaking her head. ‘You won’t last long, young lady. The mistress is a perfectionist.’

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ Susan said, backing towards the doorway.

  ‘Mrs Delaney was due for a rest. Fair wore out, she was.’ Mrs Harper sighed heavily. ‘It’s a pity she had to break her ankle in order to stay at home and put her feet up.’

  Faced with such a lugubrious personality, Susan took what she needed from the cupboard and retreated to the peace and quiet of the first floor.

  When she returned to the kitchen she was relieved to find that Mrs Harper, the antithesis of the rotund, smiling cook as portrayed in books and films, was now in the scullery peeling vegetables. Her rendition of ‘For those in peril on the sea’, slightly off key and very much out of tune, was enough to put anyone off a life on the ocean wave. At a quarter to six, long after she was supposed to have finished, Susan was just putting the vacuum cleaner away when Mrs Harper stopped singing to greet Elspeth as she strolled in from the stable yard. Susan could see her through the open door and she was impressed. Elspeth might be wearing a standard navy-blue boiler suit but she still looked as though she had stepped straight from the pages of Vogue or Harper’s. There was an artistic streak of engine oil on one cheek, but she looked surprisingly immaculate for someone who had been tinkering with an aircraft engine all afternoon. She stopped, staring pointedly at the wall clock.

  ‘I thought you’d finished, Susan. Don’t expect me to pay you overtime.’

  ‘I don’t,’ Susan said, closing the cupboard door with a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll get into my stride tomorrow.’

  Elspeth patted a stray hair into place, shrugging her slender shoulders. ‘It’s time you went home anyway. I’m going upstairs to take a bath.’ She paused in the doorway. ‘If my husband stops off at the pub, tell him that dinner is at seven thirty sharp.’ She disappeared from view leaving a trail of Arpège and engine oil in her wake.