by Joan Jonker
‘What you are suffering from, Edwina, is illusions of grandeur. And the sooner you dispel those illusions, the better it will be for yourself. The young girl who is coming tomorrow, whose name, incidentally, is Jessie, will be very much the same as you were at her age. Did you ever consider yourself common, uncouth or ill-mannered? I don’t think so. Anyway, I shall be interviewing Jessie, so your feelings don’t enter into it.’ Robert slipped off his jacket and draped it over his arm. ‘End of discussion, Edwina, I don’t want to hear another word.’ He walked through to his dressing room, and as he opened the double doors to his wardrobe his eyes lit on the small bed in the corner. He never thought it would come to this, but it had been a long day, so much had happened, and he was very tired. The woman in their bed treated him like an unwelcome stranger, and the thought of sleeping next to her filled him with despair. So after hanging up his jacket and waistcoat, he returned to the bedroom. ‘I shall be sleeping in the dressing room tonight, and I’m sure that’s one thing I’ll be doing right in your eyes. Goodnight.’
‘Mother, I left my black court shoes out to be cleaned, and they’re just as I left them. They haven’t been touched.’ Victoria sat down with a disapproving look on her face. ‘And Nigel tells me his haven’t been cleaned, either. It’s just isn’t good enough!’
Before his wife could answer, Robert said, ‘Good morning, Victoria, Nigel and Abbie. Or have we dispensed with civilised behaviour?’
‘Of course not, Dad.’ Abbie left her chair to give him a kiss. ‘Good morning.’
‘I’m sorry, Father,’ Nigel said. ‘How very rude of me. Good morning to you.’
Victoria gave a curt nod. ‘Good morning.’
‘To save any further words on the subject, there is no one to clean your shoes as Kitty is unwell. But I’m sure Agnes will show you where the shoe polish and brushes are kept.’
‘Ah, what’s wrong with Kitty?’ Abbie asked. ‘She’s not very ill, I hope?’
‘No, my dear, she’s suffering from fatigue. Been overworked for too long.’
‘Overworked!’ Victoria didn’t see the warning sign in her mother’s eyes. ‘If the wretched creature isn’t up to the job she shouldn’t be here.’
‘Don’t be horrible, Victoria,’ Abbie said with feeling. ‘Kitty is not a wretched creature and she can’t help being sick. She’s very nice and I like her.’
‘You never were fussy about the people you liked,’ Victoria sneered. ‘Some of the friends you’ve had have been most undesirable.’
Robert banged the handle of his knife on the table. ‘I will not have remarks like that at the breakfast table. While you sit here on antique chairs, with solid silver cutlery in front of you and expensive clothes on your back, waiting to have your breakfast served to you, there are thousands of people in this country who are worrying about where their next meal is coming from. You are so selfish you disgust me. If you are not satisfied, or think you are badly treated, then may I suggest you find somewhere else to live?’
Abbie had her head down, her lips were moving but no one heard her saying, ‘Dad’s right, you are selfish. You don’t care about poor Kitty.’
Meanwhile, Agnes was just about to push the door open when she heard Mr Robert’s voice. She felt a wave of pity for him, because more than most, she knew exactly how spoilt they were. The silver tray she was carrying was heavy with matching silver dishes, filled with bacon, eggs, liver, sausages, kidneys and tomatoes. And once these were on the table, she’d have to make a few trips back and forth to the kitchen for their toast and marmalade and pots of tea. There were three in that room who didn’t know they were bloody well born. And it would give her great pleasure to tip the tray and its contents on their laps and wave them goodbye. It was Mr Robert and Miss Abbie that kept her here, and she’d stay as long as they needed her.
Taking a deep breath, the housekeeper pushed open the door with her hip. ‘Good morning, breakfast up,’ she called in a bright and breezy voice, as she set the dishes out on the long mahogany serving table. ‘I’ll fetch yer toast now.’
‘Agnes.’ Victoria’s voice was silky and persuasive. ‘Would you be an angel and clean my shoes for me?’
‘Oh, I say, old girl,’ Nigel said, red in the face with embarrassment at his sister’s nerve. ‘You can’t expect Agnes to clean your shoes.’
‘She can expect what she likes, Mr Nigel, but she won’t bleedin’ well get it.’ Agnes was equally red in the face, but it was with anger, not embarrassment. ‘I’ve got me hands full without cleaning ruddy shoes.’ With that, the housekeeper stormed out, muttering under her breath that someone needed a bloody good hiding.
‘How dare you.’ Robert could scarcely contain his anger. ‘What arrogance!’
‘She gets paid to work here, doesn’t she?’ Victoria didn’t see anything wrong with her request and wasn’t in the least repentant. ‘So why shouldn’t I ask her to clean my shoes?’
‘Yes, Agnes gets paid to work here, and she works hard for her money. What do you do, Victoria, to earn the very generous allowance you get?’
Edwina spoke for the first time, in an effort to defend her daughter. ‘Robert, you’ll be pleased to know that Victoria has already set the wheels in motion for the charity work you were keen for her to get involved with. Apparently Mrs Chisholm and some of her friends visit the poor in hospital, and Charles is getting some information today on how Victoria can join their group.’
‘Charles and I are getting quite close, really.’ Victoria was thinking the day wasn’t far off when she could tell her father what to do with his money. ‘In fact, I think the day is fast approaching when he’ll pop the question. So don’t be surprised, Father, if Charles asks for my hand in marriage.’
The expression on Robert’s face when he looked at his daughter was one of pity mixed with disbelief. Charles Chisholm, by his own father’s admission, was a lady’s man who loved them and left them. There’d been a rumour several years ago when Charles was only about seventeen, that he’d got a young parlour maid into trouble and it had cost his father dearly to pay the girl’s family off to avoid publicity. This tale had been the talk of the Athenium Club for months and had never been denied by George Chisholm, who was an extremely wealthy shipping merchant. His son seemed to settle down after that and there was no further scandal. That is until he reached the age of twenty-one, and then gossip flared about his liking for older women. Particularly married women who had little to fill in their days and enjoyed the excitement of a clandestine affair. There was no sign that Charles Chisholm was ready to give up his lifestyle and settle down to marriage. But it wasn’t up to Robert to repeat rumours to his daughter, so he said, ‘I’ll be prepared if he does approach me.’
‘I’ve got some news, too, Dad.’ Abbie looked and sounded happy. ‘Miss Gillespie has given me the morning off to enrol at the commercial college. She said it was best to do it as soon as possible, in case there are a lot of applications for the subjects I’m interested in. They only take on so many for each class, you see, and I’d be very disappointed if my application was turned down. I’ve set my heart on it.’
‘I’m sure there’ll be no problem, my dear. If you come home later with a smile on your face, I’ll be very happy for you.’
‘Yes, Abbie, I hope you get what you want,’ Nigel said, ignoring the set faces of his mother and elder sister. ‘Good luck!’
‘Thank you, Nigel.’ Abbie gulped down a few mouthfuls of tea, then patted her lips with the heavy linen napkin. ‘I’m off. I don’t want to be last in line.’ She planted a kiss on the top of her father’s head as she passed his chair, then waved to the other members of the family. ‘See you later!’
‘When will she start to act like a young lady,’ Edwina tutted, ‘instead of a child?’
‘I think Abbie has a good head on her shoulders,’ Nigel said. ‘She knows what she wants and is going after it. Good luck to her, I say.’
Robert found himself being pleasantly surprised by his
son. For years he’d agreed with everything his mother and older sister said, and wouldn’t have dared to offer an opinion. Yet several times in the last few days he’d risked their wrath by opposing them. And each time it had been in defence of Abbie or Agnes. Could it be he was at last becoming his own man and breaking free from the unhealthy, stifling relationship that bound him to his mother and sister? Robert hoped with all his heart that this were so. Nigel was twenty-one soon and he had never had a proper girlfriend. If he went out to a social gathering it was always in the company of Victoria who, in talking down to him, had others doubting his ability and intelligence. The consequence was that no one expected him to have anything of interest to say. He was well-liked, but not taken seriously.
‘If you’ll excuse me, I’m going along to the study.’ Robert was looking at his son as he pushed the chair under the table. Had he been too impatient with him, expecting too much too soon? He hoped not, but it was possible. ‘Nigel, when you’ve finished breakfast, perhaps you’d like to come along to the study for a chat? We don’t seem to spend much time with each other lately.’
‘Yes, Father, I’d like that.’ The young man’s face showed his pleasure. ‘I’ll finish my tea and be along in five minutes.’
Robert made a detour to the kitchen to find Agnes. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, and she was taking her temper out on the huge heavy frying pan she was scrubbing. Plunging it in and out of the hot, soapy water, she was muttering under her breath what she’d like to do to ‘the stuck-up cow’. Robert chuckled and told himself he wouldn’t need two guesses to know who she was talking about. He knew he shouldn’t see any humour in his housekeeper calling his daughter names, and it wouldn’t be tolerated in their neighbours’ houses, where servants were treated as such. But then, being a fair man, he had to allow that most households didn’t have a daughter as disrespectful as Victoria.
‘Agnes, I’ll be in the study when the young lady comes. Would you be kind enough to bring her along to me?’
The housekeeper glanced at the large, round kitchen clock. ‘She should be here any minute, Mr Robert. But I’ll keep her here for five minutes talking, to settle her down, like, so she’s not so nervous. Then I’ll bring her to yer.’
‘Sit down, Nigel.’ Robert waved to a round-backed, maroon leather chair. ‘I won’t offer you a cigar because I believe you don’t smoke.’
‘I have never tried a cigar, Father, but I do smoke the odd cigarette. Would you object to me having one now?’
‘Not at all.’ Robert placed the heavy crystal ashtray between them, then held his lighter to the cigarette in his son’s mouth. ‘I don’t recall ever seeing you smoke.’
‘You know Mother doesn’t like the smell of tobacco, so I don’t smoke in her presence. I usually confine myself to the odd whiff in my bedroom.’
Robert puffed on his cigar, wondering how to word his questions so his son didn’t think he was being criticised. He wanted to get to know his offspring, not frighten him off. ‘How is life these days, Nigel? I know you are involved in plenty of social activities, but do you find them satisfying and fulfilling?’
‘I used to, Father, but not any more. I’m finding them dreadfully boring.’
‘Then why continue?’
Nigel concentrated on the smoke coming from his Turkish cigarette to avoid meeting his father’s eyes. ‘What else is there? I’m not qualified for anything else.’
‘Oh, come now, son, you should have more faith in your abilities than that! If there is something you would like to do, then tell me and I’ll help you all I can.’
‘I wish I had as much faith in myself as Abbie has in herself. I think she’s jolly brave and I really do admire her, Father, for wanting to do something with her life.’
‘If you feel like that, why don’t you do as she has? There’s not a thing standing in your way, Nigel. If you set your mind to something, and are really determined, then there’s nothing you can’t do.’ Robert hoped Agnes wouldn’t knock on the door for a while yet. Now he and his son were talking, he wanted something constructive to come from it. ‘Don’t be afraid to talk to me, son, I really am interested in your welfare.’
‘I wish I had the nerve to do what Abbie’s done, but I haven’t. You see, I’m not as clever as she is, and I’m afraid of being a failure. I know I’m a disappointment to you and that saddens me. I want you to be proud of me, Father, but I don’t know how I can do that.’
‘Am I to understand that lurking within you, is the desire to accomplish something you believe would make me proud of you? I assure you, Nigel, that you should have no concern for sadness. You are my son and I am proud of you. But if I am to be totally honest, I would have to say I believe you are wasting your life. For your own sake, I would like to see you involved in some work that gave you a sense of fulfilment. You are lacking in confidence now, but that would soon change if you found your niche in life.’
‘I haven’t got the guts, Father, I’m a coward. I’d be afraid of the humiliation if I started something and didn’t succeed in making it a success. Remember my stint at your offices in the city? I was a disaster, an absolute disaster.’
Robert got to his feet to open a window and let out some of the smoke. ‘Nonsense! Why do you use words like coward, disaster and humiliation? I was disappointed you didn’t take to the work, and I readily admit that. But it wasn’t the end of the world. However, now we are on the subject, perhaps you can tell me why you didn’t fit in? You are not stupid, your school and college reports confirm this. Never below third in class, which is quite an achievement. I left school before I was fourteen and my school report was never as glowing as yours. I think tenth was the highest I ever got, and I thought that was good. So why are you so unsure of yourself ?’
For the first time, a smile lit up Nigel’s boyish face. ‘It could be that you are a hard act to follow, Father. You are so self-assured, always in control. And for the short time I lasted in the city office, I thought I was being compared to you and didn’t measure up.’
While his son was speaking, Robert was seeing things through his eyes. Why hadn’t he realised how difficult it would be for Nigel? The son of a successful businessman, having to be shown the ropes by junior clerks? No wonder he had an inferiority complex. ‘This conversation should have taken place a long time ago, son, and I take responsibility for the fact it didn’t. Now I have a greater understanding of your feelings and needs, we must forget about the past and look to the future. Unfortunately, though, we’re going to have to leave it now because I’m interviewing a young girl for the position of scullery maid. Agnes and Kitty have far too much to do and I want their load lightening. Hopefully this young girl will fit the bill. She comes highly recommended. Agnes has seen her and is very impressed, so all the signs are good.’
‘How is Kitty, Father? Is she really ill?’
‘Worn out with hard work, son. She has an invalid husband whom she has to support. They are literally living from hand to mouth and I felt quite ashamed seeing how little they have compared to what we take for granted. I’ll give them whatever help I can, and I’ll make sure that when she comes back to work her life will be made easier with a junior to help.’
‘I was going to say I realise how lucky we are, but it hasn’t anything to do with luck, has it? It’s all down to your hard work.’
Robert pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘I heard Agnes outside a few minutes ago, but she must have known we were in conversation and didn’t want to interrupt. Will you tell her I’m free now? But before you go, how would you like to come to the club with me later? I have a few ideas in my head that might interest you and we wouldn’t be disturbed there.’
‘I would like that very much, Father. Give me a call when you’re ready.’
‘One thing more, Nigel.’ Robert smiled when his son turned. ‘Remember when you used to call me “Dad”? I really much prefer it, if you don’t mind.’
‘I prefer it myself, Dad.’ Nigel left the
study feeling more of a man than he ever had. With his back straight, he whistled as he made his way to the kitchen.
Chapter Six
‘Come in!’ Robert swivelled his chair around as the door opened. ‘I’m sorry you were kept waiting, Agnes, but Nigel and I had things to discuss.’
‘That’s all right, Mr Robert, we had a cup of tea while we were waiting.’ The housekeeper had an arm across the shoulders of a young girl, and she now pressed her forward. ‘This is Jessie. And this, sunshine, is Mr Robert.’
The girl had her head lowered, and she was visibly shaking. ‘Good morning, sir.’ There was a catch in her voice that told of the fear inside of her. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you.’
Robert took in the coat which was far too old-fashioned for a young girl and was frayed at the cuffs and pockets. The shoes too were well worn and scuffed, but it was plain to see they had been cleaned and polished in an effort to make the best of them. ‘Don’t be frightened of me, Jessie, I’m not going to eat you. And if you’ll look at me, you’ll see I don’t have two heads.’
When the girl lifted her head, Robert found himself looking into eyes that were as blue as the sky on a summer’s day. And they were set in a face of such beauty, he was taken aback. Agnes had said the girl was pretty, but there was more to this child than mere prettiness. ‘See? Only one head.’
A shaky smile briefly lit up her face. ‘I’m sorry, me mam said I hadn’t got to be nervous, but I can’t help it. This is me first job, yer see.’ When Jessie realised what she’d said her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, I didn’t mean to say that, honest! I meant if I get the job it will be me first one, sir.’
Robert smiled. The girl had the job as soon as she’d walked through the door, but it wouldn’t do to say so. Nor would it do to get too familiar, which might give her the impression that working in this house was going to be easy. ‘Then I think you should sit down and we can find out if we suit each other.’ He glanced at Agnes, who still had her arm across Jessie’s shoulders. ‘Would you leave us for ten minutes, Agnes, please. I will ring for you when the interview is over.’
