Dream a Little Dream

by Joan Jonker

  ‘Same here. I didn’t like asking for extra time off, the rest of the staff would think it was favouritism. So Mr and Mrs Ross are going to think we’re a fine pair turning up without dance shoes. Still, I suppose light leather shoes will do just as well, even if they don’t look the part.’

  Abbie waited until he was halfway out of the door, then making her voice gruff, she tried to imitate Bobby. ‘Hey, Nige!’

  As she had hoped, there was a smile on her brother’s face when he turned. ‘The voice isn’t quite right, but a very good attempt.’

  ‘I’ll work on it while you’re getting ready. I just wanted you to know I love you.’

  ‘I love you, too!’

  Nigel was tying the laces of the light beige soft kid shoes, when he paused. Love wasn’t a word used much in this house except for Abbie and his father. His sister was always open with her feelings and didn’t care who heard when she told her father she loved him. But he could not remember a time when his mother or Victoria had used the word, and neither of them encouraged an endearment or even a hug. He hadn’t thought it unusual because most of his adult life had been spent in their company, but the events of the past few weeks had opened up a floodgate of memories. Especially seeing his Granda and Grandma again. Each night in bed, staring at the ceiling, he remembered more and more. They had showered him with love when he was a child. He didn’t go short of hugs and kisses then. His Grandma used to hold him tight and say, ‘I love the bones of yer, sweetheart, and I’d eat yer if I could.’

  A tap on the door had Nigel hurrying to open it. ‘I’m ready, Abbie. As ready as I’ll ever be, that is. I just hope I don’t make a fool of myself.’

  ‘Don’t you dare! What have I told you about being positive?’ Abbie asked, as they made their way down the stairs. ‘I promise you that when we get home, we’ll have learned enough steps to practise the waltz in front of Agnes. If we can’t, then I’m going to leave it to you to explain to her why we’re too thick to learn to put one foot in front of the other.’

  ‘I hope we’re not that bad!’

  ‘We better hadn’t be, because I’ve made up my mind to go dancing with Milly in a few weeks.’ She chuckled as she ran out of the front door. ‘We’ll have to find a dance hall where they only play waltzes.’

  Robert pushed his plate back and folded his napkin. The atmosphere was so tense it hadn’t made for an enjoyable meal. He didn’t bother asking why, he guessed his wife had found out about the dancing lessons and he wasn’t about to enter into a war of words. His fobwatch told him it was a quarter past eight and Nigel and Abbie should be home any minute. He was eager to find out how they’d fared, so decided to have his coffee in the kitchen, which would be the first place they made for. And Agnes didn’t object to the smell of his cigar. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll have my coffee in the study.’

  He could feel two pairs of eyes boring into his back as he crossed the room, and knew as soon as the door closed behind him he would be the subject of two vitriolic tongues. Still, he was used to it by now and it didn’t have the power to hurt him. Anger him, yes, but not hurt. And while they were talking about him they were leaving someone else alone.

  ‘They’re not back yet, then, Agnes?’ Robert pulled one of the big wooden kitchen chairs out from the table. ‘I can’t wait to hear how they got on.’

  ‘Mr Nigel’s car went past the side window just as you came in.’ Agnes dried her hands and grinned at him. ‘They’ll be coming through that door any minute.’

  The words were barely out of her mouth when the door burst open and the two youngsters came in, eyes shining and big grins on their faces. Abbie made a bee-line for her father and threw her arms around him. ‘Dad, it’s been brilliant! Mr and Mrs Ross are so nice, I didn’t feel a bit nervous.’

  When Robert gazed into her deep brown eyes, it was like looking into the mirror when he was shaving and his eyes stared back at him. ‘The thing is, my dear, did you learn anything?’

  ‘Oh, yes! Mr Ross was my partner and his wife was with Nigel. We were only walking at first, so we could see their feet, and it was just one, two, three, over and over. Those are the basic steps for a waltz, and they were dead easy.’

  Agnes caught Nigel’s eye. ‘Come and give us a hug, sunshine, and tell us all about it.’

  ‘If I told you the truth, you’d think I was bragging.’

  Abbie had plonked herself on her father’s knee. ‘If you don’t brag, then I will. Tell them what Mr and Mrs Ross said, Nigel, and don’t be so bashful.’

  ‘They said we did very well considering it was our first lesson. And they also said we will make good dancers because we’ve got rhythm and loose body movements.’

  ‘Let’s show them what we’ve learned, Nigel.’ Abbie jumped to her feet. ‘Come on, I know we’re not experts but we can manage a few steps. Dad and Agnes won’t laugh at us, so don’t be shy.’

  ‘I made a promise to Agnes that she’d be the first one I danced with, and I can’t break my promise. So if she doesn’t mind taking a chance on me standing on her toes occasionally, I’m game if she is.’

  ‘Then you’ll be my partner, Dad.’ Abbie pulled Robert to his feet. ‘If you pick it up, we might even take you dancing with us one night.’

  Robert looked across at Agnes and winked. There were very few people their age who hadn’t danced sometime in their lives, even if it was only at parties. But not for the world would he burst the bubble that was making his children so happy. Particularly Nigel, who was only just beginning to find out what he’d been missing. ‘I know, let’s all sing “After the Ball Was Over”, so we’ve something to dance in time to.’

  So it came about that when Edwina entered the kitchen, intending to ask why coffee had not yet been served, she found her husband dancing with Abbie and her son dancing with the housekeeper. And all four of them were singing. To say she was not best pleased would be putting it mildly. She was so filled with anger she could barely get the words out. ‘Coffee, Agnes, immediately!’ With a withering look she stormed out of the kitchen.

  ‘Oh dear, I’m in for it now,’ Agnes said. Then she grinned. ‘And just when I was beginning to enjoy meself.’

  ‘It’s my fault,’ Abbie groaned. ‘I’ll take the coffee through and explain to Mother that it was my idea.’

  ‘Indeed not!’ The housekeeper moved fast. The tray was set with silver coffee pot, sugar basin and jug of hot milk. ‘I had it ready to take in when you arrived. It’s only a few minutes late, nothing to lose her rag over.’ With that she picked up the tray, squared her shoulders and stuck her nose in the air. ‘I’ll be back in five minutes and see to your dinner.’

  ‘If anything is said, Agnes, refer my wife to me.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mr Robert, I’m quite capable of looking after meself.’

  But Agnes was not prepared for the onslaught that hit her as soon as she entered the dining room. Edwina got to her feet and leaned her clenched fists on the table. ‘What on earth are you thinking of, allowing dancing and singing in the kitchen? Kindly remember it is your place of work, not a place for such common carryings on.’

  Then Victoria, fired up by her mother’s tirade, joined in. ‘When will you get it into your head that you are a servant here, not a member of the family. You get paid to work, and it would do you well to remember that if you wish to keep your job here.’

  The housekeeper put the tray in the middle of the table before even looking at either of the women. She was telling herself to do as Mr Robert said, and refer them to him. But it wasn’t in her nature to stand and be insulted without answering back. And although she was as mad as hell at the injustice, she kept her voice low. ‘Miss Edwina, and Miss Victoria, I would remind you that I start work at six o’clock every morning, Sunday included. The kitchen is my domain, and as long as I do the job I am paid to do, to your satisfaction, I am entitled to some time to meself and a laugh and a joke doesn’t do no harm. I might as well die off if I can’t get some pleasure out
of life. D’yer expect me to work right through until yer’ve been served yer supper at ten o’clock, and then wash the dishes before I retire to my room? Working non-stop for nearly seventeen hours? If that is what yer expect from a housekeeper, then yer can find a replacement for me. I’m not going to work those hours and be treated like a dog’s-body. I will leave at the weekend, if that suits yer. It will give yer a few days to find a replacement.’

  Without waiting for a response, Agnes turned and left the room. With her head held high, she maintained her dignity. But once outside the dining-room door she slumped against the wall, tears threatening to spill. She didn’t mind getting told off if it was justified, but having a laugh in the kitchen after working nearly fifteen hours didn’t call for being spoken to as though she was a slave. And there were other things that added up to her feeling more sad and miserable than she’d felt for a long time. Those two women she’d just left, with faces that could turn milk sour, should have been in the kitchen with them to join in the jollity. Particularly Miss Edwina – you’d think she’d be interested and want to share in her children’s pleasure. Most mothers would, but then again, Miss Edwina wasn’t like a mother, more like a bad-tempered, hard-hearted headmistress. That’s one job she would be good at and take great delight in. She certainly had the face for it. She’d love the power of having a cane in her hand, ready to come down on any poor child caught whispering to the girl sitting at the next desk.

  Agnes moved away from the wall. They’d be wondering in the kitchen what was keeping her. She wouldn’t tell them what had been said, not tonight. They’d been robbed of some of their pleasure, she wouldn’t take any more away from them. She’d wait until she got to bed before deciding her future.

  Three faces turned to her when she entered the kitchen. ‘Well, Agnes, did you get a dressing down?’

  ‘Everything’s all right, Mr Robert, just a storm in a teacup.’ Agnes busied herself by the large gas range. ‘I’ll see to your dinners now, Mr Nigel and Miss Abbie. Are yer eating it in the dining room?’

  ‘If we’re not in your way, Agnes, we’d rather eat out here,’ Nigel said. ‘It’s much more homely, and Abbie and I are going to have one more little practice before bedtime.’

  ‘Ye’re welcome in here, yer know that.’ Without making any eye-contact, the housekeeper covered her hands with a tea-towel before taking dishes from the oven. ‘I’ll see to the youngsters first, Mr Robert, they must be starving. Then I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee for yer.’

  ‘No hurry, Agnes, I’m not going to die of thirst.’ Robert’s elbows were on the table and he had his chin cupped in a hand. There’s something not quite right here, he thought. He’d known the housekeeper too long not to recognise signs that said she wasn’t the happy person she’d been fifteen minutes ago. The slumped shoulders, the missing smile and the lack of eye-contact were enough to set his mind working. She said everything was all right, just a storm in a teacup, but he found that hard to believe. Nigel and Abbie were busy talking, so he was able to study the movements of the woman he’d grown very fond of over the years. When things were rough, he always knew Agnes was there with her sympathetic ears. His port in a storm.

  The longer Robert sat there studying her, the more convinced he became that something was amiss. Agnes had never gone so long without speaking, she usually nattered the whole time. And then he saw her chest heave and her lips pucker as though blowing out a sigh. ‘I’m just going to get my cigar case, Agnes, I’ve left it in the study.’

  ‘Shall I go, Dad?’ Nigel offered.

  ‘No, thank you, son. Agnes is just about to put your plates on the table. I’ll only be away a few minutes.’

  Robert had his hand on the knob of the dining-room door when he heard raised voices inside. It sounded as though his wife and eldest daughter were exchanging sharp words. Well, there was no point in eavesdropping when he could possibly have sharp words of his own to contribute.

  Silence fell when Robert entered the room. But he noticed both women were agitated and after one guilty look at each other, they fixed their eyes on the wall opposite. Pulling out a chair, he sat down. ‘Now, Agnes tells me everything is all right, but why do I have a feeling she is not telling the truth? Enlighten me, if you will.’

  ‘The problem is, Agnes forgets she is a servant here, and not a member of the family.’ Edwina threw a dark glance at her daughter. ‘When I suggested the kitchen was not the place for dancing and singing, she took umbrage and told us to find another housekeeper as she would be leaving at the weekend. She can be so childish at times, like a little girl who doesn’t like being told when she’s been naughty.’

  ‘I would like to hear the conversation word for word, please. And Victoria, I want to know what part you played in this.’

  ‘I’ve told you what happened,’ Edwina said, her anger distorting her face into ugliness. ‘What more do you want? Or do you think I am lying?’

  ‘I don’t think, Edwina, I know! Now, word for word, from both of you. And I suggest you don’t try to play it down as though it was all Agnes’s fault, because I intend asking her. And as she appears to be more truthful than you, and has a better memory, you can rest assured I will find out exactly what was said.’

  Edwina gave a very watered-down version of her verbal attack on the housekeeper, making it sound as though she was only being reasonable and there was no call for Agnes to take the stance she did. But Victoria brazened it out and repeated everything word for word. Then she stared hard at her father, as though daring him to do his damnedest because what she’d said needed saying. And for good measure, to add fuel to the flames, she added, ‘Every servant should know their place.’

  ‘Oh, Agnes is very well aware of her place. It is you, and your mother, who seem to have trouble remembering your place. I was the one who suggested a moment of jollification to celebrate Nigel and Abbie’s first dancing lesson, not Agnes. So why did you not have words with me, Edwina? You could have voiced your displeasure as soon as you entered the kitchen. But you didn’t, because you knew you would be told how petty and ridiculous your objections were. So you waited for an easier target on which to spill out your venom. Well, let me now set the record straight. If I choose to dance with my daughter, and my son wishes to dance with the housekeeper, then who is to say this is not allowed? Certainly not you two, whose only contribution to the well-being of this house is misery and unpleasantness.’

  Robert was beside himself with anger. That an incident so innocent and spontaneous could cause such a fuss, and result in a decent woman being so humiliated she handed in her notice, was beyond his comprehension. And as he faced his wife and eldest daughter, it flashed through his mind that he didn’t even like them. The thought frightened and saddened him, but he felt no guilt. He had tried his level best over the years to bridge the gap that he knew was opening up between them. He had given them everything they desired, but it had never been appreciated. They had mistaken his kindness for weakness. ‘You have gone too far tonight, in accusing and degrading an innocent woman; you have crossed the boundary of decent behaviour. It happens so often, there are times I think your sanity is in question. But that is another matter. The matter in hand has to be dealt with immediately, and this is what I have decided. As you both seem to object to the way I wish this house to be run, I believe you would be much happier away from here. So I am prepared to buy a small house for you to live in. There will be no servants, but I will furnish it comfortably and give you an allowance to live on. If this does not meet with your approval, there is an alternative. You can go along now, to the kitchen, and apologise to Agnes. Not a half-hearted, don’t-really-mean-it apology, but one where you beg her forgiveness and ask her to reconsider and stay on as housekeeper. If she refuses, then it’s back to the first option. I will purchase a small house for you, where you will only have each other to insult and order about. You see, if Agnes leaves because of you, there is no way I will allow you to stay. I wouldn’t want to live in the s
ame house as you, wouldn’t want to have to see your faces every day, knowing you have ruined the life of a decent woman.’

  Robert got to his feet. He knew the housekeeper would be sick with worry right now, hurt and distressed that she was having to leave the house that had been her home for so long, when she hadn’t done anything wrong. And he didn’t want her to worry one moment longer than was necessary. ‘You have five minutes to decide what you want to do.’

  Edwina stood up so quickly her chair toppled over backwards. ‘You can’t throw your wife and daughter out, it’s preposterous! Your name would be blackened across the city, you would be shunned by all decent people.’

  ‘What would you know about decent people? You judge a person by the size of their house, the number of servants they have and their wealth. Well, let me tell you that riches do not automatically make a person honourable. A labourer, earning fifteen shillings a week to keep a family on, is as likely to be a decent person as someone with a fat bank balance. So being shunned by your decent people wouldn’t worry me one iota.’ Robert took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. ‘You have five minutes to decide. I’ll be in the study.’

  ‘Mother, I have no intention of going on bended knee to a servant.’ Victoria was pacing the floor, her arms folded across her tummy. ‘You started it, so it’s your place to try and smooth things over.’

  Edwina didn’t see it that way. ‘Victoria, you had far more to say to Agnes than I did. But laying blame isn’t going to get us anywhere. This is a very serious situation, and I hope you realise just how serious. Your father means every word he says, and we could find ourselves in a small two-up, two-down in one of the rough areas of the city.’

  ‘He wouldn’t dare!’

  ‘Will you stand still and listen to me!’ Edwina so seldom raised her voice to her eldest daughter it brought Victoria to a halt. ‘It would be very unwise to cross him in this. If we can’t persuade Agnes to stay, he will carry out his threat, believe me.’