by Sarah Lark
Helen should have reprimanded her, but she lacked the energy. Besides, if the mother acted in as un-Christian a manner as her daughter, she would still need to have a little fight left in her.
Mrs. Baldwin appeared very quickly and made an effort to be friendly. She was shorter and less plump than her daughter and lacked her frying-pan face. Her features were instead rather hawkish; she had small, narrowly spaced eyes and a mouth that had to force itself to smile.
“This is quite a surprise, Miss Davenport. But Mrs. Brennan did indeed mention you—and very positively, if I may say so. Please come right in. Belinda is preparing the guest room for you as we speak. Now, we’ll have to put up the girls for a night too, although…” She deliberated briefly, apparently going through a list of names in her mind. “The Lavenders and Mrs. Godewind live nearby. I can send someone there straightaway. Perhaps you would like to take your girls to be received tonight. The remaining children can sleep in the stables. But first come in, Miss Davenport, come in. It’s getting cold out here.”
Helen sighed. She would have loved to accept the invitation, but of course that wouldn’t be right.
“Mrs. Baldwin, the girls are cold too. They’ve come twelve miles on foot and require a bed and a warm meal. And until I hand them over to their employers, I am responsible for them. That is what I agreed to with the director of the orphanage, and that is what I was paid for. So please show me where the girls will be staying first, and then I will gladly accept your hospitality.”
Mrs. Baldwin made a face but said nothing more. Instead, she dug a key out of a pocket on the wide apron she wore over an expansive housedress and led Helen and the girls around to the side of the house. Here there was a stall for a horse and a cow. A pungent-smelling haystack next to it had a few blankets thrown over it to make it more comfortable. Helen gave in to the inevitable.
“You heard her, girls. Tonight you’ll be sleeping here,” she instructed the girls. “Spread out your bedsheets—nice and carefully; otherwise, your clothes will be covered in hay. There will no doubt be water for washing up in the kitchen. I will see to it that it is available for you to use. I will come back later to make sure you have done your bedtime chores like proper Christian girls. First wash and then go to bed.” Helen wanted to sound strict, but tonight she could not quite manage it. She wouldn’t have wanted to strip down and wash with cold water in this stall. For that reason, she already knew that her inspection tonight would not be all that thorough. The girls did not seem to take her instructions to heart. Instead of acknowledging her with a proper “Yes, Miss Davenport,” they inundated their teacher with questions.
“Are we not going to get anything to eat?”
“I can’t sleep on the straw, Miss Davenport, I’ll be sick!”
“There are bound to be fleas!”
“Can’t we come with you, Miss Davenport? And what about these people that might come tonight? Do they want to take us, Miss Davenport?”
Helen sighed. She had tried throughout the trip to prepare the girls for their impending separation when they arrived, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to tear the group apart that night. However, she also didn’t want to prejudice Mrs. Baldwin against the girls and herself any more than she already had. So she answered evasively.
“Clean yourselves up first, and settle down, girls. Everything will work out, so don’t worry.” She stroked Laurie’s and Mary’s blonde hair. The children were visibly exhausted. Dorothy even made Rosemary’s bed since she was already almost asleep. Helen nodded with approval.
“I will check up on you again later,” she declared. “I promise!”
8
“The girls seem rather spoiled,” Mrs. Baldwin remarked with a forbearing expression. “I hope they will actually be of some use to their future employers.”
“They are children.” Helen sighed. Hadn’t she already had this conversation with Lucinda Greenwood, who was on the London orphanage committee? “To be honest, only two of them are even old enough to take a position. But they are all well behaved and skilled. I do not think anyone will have complaints.”
Mrs. Baldwin seemed provisionally placated upon hearing that. She led Helen to the guest room, and for the first time that day, the young woman was pleasantly surprised. The room was bright and clean, with floral wallpaper and gardenias arranged invitingly in country-home style, and the bed looked big and comfortable. Helen breathed a sigh of relief. She may have been stranded in the backwoods, but here was evidence of civilization. Just then, the heavyset girl appeared with a large pot of warm water, which she emptied into Helen’s washbasin.
“Freshen yourself up a bit, Miss Davenport,” Mrs. Baldwin told her. “After that we’ll expect you at dinner. It won’t be anything special; we weren’t prepared for guests, after all. But if you like chicken and mashed potatoes…”
Helen smiled. “I’m so hungry that I would eat the chicken and the potatoes raw. And the girls…”
Mrs. Baldwin seemed ready to lose her patience. “The girls will be taken care of,” she declared abrasively. “I’ll see you in a moment, then, Miss Davenport.”
Helen took her time washing herself thoroughly, letting her hair down, and then pinning it back up. She contemplated whether it was worth changing her clothes. Helen owned only a few dresses, two of which were dirty through and through. She had been saving her best outfit for meeting Howard. On the other hand, she couldn’t appear at dinner with the Baldwins in a ragged and sweaty dress. In the end, she decided on the navy-blue velvet dress. Something festive was in order for her first evening in her new homeland.
The food was already being served when Helen finally stepped into the Baldwins’ dining room. Here too the furnishings trumped her expectations. The sideboard, table, and chairs were made of heavy teak and decorated with artistic carvings. Either the Baldwins had brought the furniture from England, or Christchurch could boast excellent joiners. This last thought comforted Helen. If worse came to worst, she could get used to a wooden house if its interior was comfortably furnished.
Her tardiness caused her some unease, but with the exception of the Baldwins’ daughter, who seemed rather spoiled, everyone stood up at once to welcome her. In addition to Mrs. Baldwin and Belinda, there were the reverend and a young vicar. Reverend Baldwin was a tall, gaunt man with a serious demeanor. He was formally dressed—his dark brown three-piece tweed suit appeared almost too elegant for the domestic table—and he did not smile when he held out his hand to Helen. Instead, he seemed to be sizing her up.
“Are you the daughter of a fellow clergyman?” he inquired in a sonorous voice that she could easily imagine filling a chapel.
Helen nodded and told him about Liverpool. “I know that the circumstances of my visit to your home are somewhat unusual,” she admitted, blushing. “But we all follow the way of the Lord, and he does not always lead us along the beaten path.”
Reverend Baldwin nodded. “That is indeed true, Miss Davenport,” he replied gravely. “No one knows that better than we do. I too had not expected that my church would take me to the ends of the earth. But this is a very promising place. With God’s help we’ll turn it into a thriving city imbued with Christianity. You probably know that Christchurch is supposed to become a bishopric…”
Helen nodded enthusiastically. She likewise gathered why Reverend Baldwin had not turned down the call to New Zealand despite his apparent loyalty to England. The man seemed to have ambitions—though perhaps not the connections one doubtless needed to receive a bishop’s appointment in England. Here, on the other hand…Baldwin undoubtedly had high hopes. But was he as able a minister as he was a strategist of church politics?
Regardless, Helen thought the young vicar at Baldwin’s side considerably kinder. He smiled graciously as Baldwin introduced him as William Chester, and his handshake was warm and friendly. Thin and pale, with a bony, nondescript face, Chester had delicate features, a too-long nose, and a too-wide mouth. But his lively and clever brown eye
s made up for all that.
“Mr. O’Keefe has already been raving about you to me,” he explained enthusiastically after he had taken his seat at Helen’s side and shoveled generous amounts of chicken and mashed potatoes onto her plate. “He was so happy to receive your letter…I’d bet he’ll come running here in the next few days, as soon as he hears about the arrival of the Dublin. He’s hoping for another letter. How surprised he’ll be to find you here already, miss!” Vicar Chester was so enthusiastic it was as though he’d introduced the young couple himself.
“In the next few days?” Helen asked, taken aback. She had expected to meet Howard the following day. Surely a messenger could be sent to his house.
“Well, yes, news doesn’t travel all that quickly to Haldon,” Chester said. “You should allow at least a week. But it could go more quickly. Didn’t Gerald Warden arrive with the Dublin as well? His son mentioned he was en route. Once he’s back, word will get around fast. No need to fret!”
“And until your fiancé arrives, you are most welcome here,” Mrs. Baldwin assured her, even if her face suggested otherwise.
Helen nevertheless felt uncertain. Was Haldon not a suburb of Christchurch? Just how much farther would she have to go before she reached her final destination?
She was just about to ask when the door was flung open. Without so much as a hello or by-your-leave, Daphne and Rosemary stormed in. Both had already let their hair down for sleep, and hay stalks were caught in Rosie’s brown locks. Daphne’s unruly red tresses framed her face as though it were swathed in flames. Her eyes too threw out sparks as she took in the reverend’s heavily laden table. Helen was instantly wracked with guilt. Judging by Daphne’s expression, no one had given the girls anything to eat yet.
But for the moment, the two girls appeared to have other concerns. Rosemary ran to Helen and pulled on her skirt. “Miss Davenport, Miss Davenport, they’re taking Laurie away! Please, you have to do something. Mary’s screaming and crying and Laurie is too.”
“And they want to take Elizabeth too!” cried Daphne.
“Please, Miss Davenport, do something!”
Helen leaped to her feet. If Daphne, who was usually so unflappable, was this alarmed, something terrible must have happened.
She looked around suspiciously.
“What is going on here?” she demanded.
Mrs. Baldwin rolled her eyes. “Nothing, Miss Davenport. As I already told you, we could hand two of the orphans over to their employers tonight. They are here to pick up the girls.” She took a list from her pocket. “Here: Laurie Alliston goes to the Lavenders and Elizabeth Beans to Mrs. Godewind. Everything is in order. I do not understand why such a fuss is being made about it.” She looked at Daphne and Rosemary coldly. The little one started to cry. Daphne, however, returned her gaze with eyes ablaze.
“Laurie and Mary are twins,” Helen explained. She was furious, but forced herself to remain calm. “They have never been separated before. I do not understand how they could have been placed with different families. There must be some mistake. And Elizabeth surely does not want to leave without saying good-bye. Please, Reverend, you must come along and clear this up.” Helen decided to no longer bother with the coldhearted Mrs. Baldwin. The children fell within the reverend’s purview, and it was high time he did something for them.
The pastor got to his feet, though clearly against his will.
“No one told us they were twins,” he explained as he walked thoughtfully to the stables beside Helen. “Naturally, it seemed likely that the girls were sisters, but placing them in the same household is out of the question. There are hardly any English servants here. There’s a waiting list for these girls. We can’t give one family two girls.”
“But they’ll be useless to anyone alone; the children cling to each other like ivy,” Helen explained.
“They will have to be separated,” the reverend responded curtly.
In front of the stables were two vehicles, one of them a delivery wagon to which two bored bays were hitched. A spirited pony that could hardly stand still pulled an elegant black chaise beside the wagon. A tall, haggard man held it with a light hand on the reins, mumbling a few soothing words to it now and then. He looked upset. Shaking his head, he kept looking to the stables, where the girls’ crying and wailing had not abated. Helen thought she recognized a sympathetic look in his gaze.
Seated among the cushions of the chaise was a frail older woman. She was dressed in black, and her snow-white hair, pinned up beneath her hat, was a striking contrast. Her skin tone was very light, smooth as porcelain and creased by only a few wrinkles, like old silk. Elizabeth stood before her and curtsied beautifully. The old lady seemed to have a friendly and gracious manner. Every now and then, though, she and her driver glanced with irritation and sympathy in the direction of the stables.
“Jones,” the woman finally said to her driver as Helen and the reverend passed by. “Couldn’t you go in and put a stop to that howling? It does bother us so. Those children are going to cry their eyes out! Please do find out what the matter is and resolve the problem.”
The driver tied the reins to the post and stood up. He did not seem especially enthusiastic about the task before him. Comforting children did not likely count among his usual chores.
In the meantime, the old lady had noticed Reverend Baldwin and greeted him in a friendly manner.
“Good evening, Reverend! Good to see you. But I don’t want to keep you since your presence seems to be required in there.” She indicated the stables, at which her driver lowered himself back down into his seat with a sigh of relief. If the reverend was seeing to it, then his services were no longer necessary.
Baldwin seemed to be considering whether he should introduce Helen and the lady to each other before he entered the stables. However, he abandoned the idea and headed straight into the uproar.
Mary and Laurie were sobbing and holding each other tightly while a powerful woman attempted to pry them from each other. A broad-shouldered but passive man stood helplessly to the side. Even Dorothy seemed unsure whether to take action or pray and flee.
“Why don’t you just take both of them?” she asked desperately. “Please, you can see it won’t work this way.”
The man seemed to agree. With a forceful tone in his voice, he turned to his wife. “Yes, Anna, we should ask the reverend to give us both girls. The girl is still too young and tender. She won’t be able to do the hard work alone. But if the two work together…”
“If the two remain together, they’ll just gossip and not get anything done!” the woman replied angrily. Helen looked into the woman’s cold blue eyes, which belonged to a bright, self-satisfied face. “We only asked for one—and we’re only taking one with us.”
“Then just take me!” Dorothy offered. “I’m bigger and stronger and…”
Anna Lavender seemed rather taken with this solution. Pleased, she eyed Dorothy’s considerably stronger build.
But Helen shook her head. “That is very Christian of you, Dorothy,” she declared with a side-glance at the Lavenders and the reverend. “But it does not solve the problem, it only delays it another day. Your new employers will come tomorrow, and then Laurie would have to go with them. No, Reverend, Mr. Lavender, we must find some way to keep the twins together. Are there no neighboring families looking for maids? Then the two could at least see each other during their free time.”
“And whine for each other the rest of the day!” Mrs. Lavender interjected. “It’s not an option. I’ll take this girl, or another. But only one.”
Helen looked imploringly at the reverend. However, he made no move to support her.
“I can only agree with Mrs. Lavender,” he said. “The sooner the girls are separated, the better. So listen, Laurie and Mary. God brought you to this country together, which was gracious of Him—He could have chosen only one of you and left the other back in England. But now He’s leading you down different paths. This doesn’t mean forever;
you’ll surely see each other at Sunday service or at least at the high holidays. God has not forsaken you, and He knows what He is doing. We have been charged with following His commands. You will be a good maid for the Lavenders, Laurie. And Mary will go with the Willards tomorrow. Both are good Christian families. You will get enough to eat, clothes to wear, and they will ensure you lead a Christian life. There is nothing to fear, Laurie, if you go with the Lavenders now, like a good girl. If there’s no other way, Mr. Lavender will have to take the rod to you.”
Mr. Lavender did not look at all like the kind of man who would beat little girls. On the contrary, he gazed with evident sympathy at Mary and Laurie.
“Now look, children, we live here in Christchurch,” he said, in an effort to comfort the distraught children. “And all the families in the area come here every so often to shop and attend service. I don’t know the Willards, but we could certainly contact them. Then, whenever they come here, we’ll let you off, and you can spend the whole day with your sister. Does that make you feel better?”
Laurie nodded, but Helen wondered whether she really understood. Who knew where these Willards lived—it wasn’t a good sign that Mr. Lavender did not even know them. And would they be as understanding with their little maid as he was? Would they even bring Mary along when they made their occasional shopping trips to town?
Laurie now seemed overcome by grief and exhaustion. She allowed herself to be pulled away from her sister. Dorothy handed Mr. Lavender Laurie’s bundle. Helen kissed her good-bye on the forehead.
“We’ll all write you!” she promised.
Laurie nodded listlessly while Mary continued to cry.
It broke Helen’s heart when the Lavenders led the little girl out. She then heard Daphne speaking to Dorothy in a low voice.
“I told you! Miss Davenport can’t do anything about it,” the girl whispered. “She’s nice, but she’s in the same boat we are. Tomorrow her man’s coming to take her away, and she has to go with this Mr. O’Keefe, same as Laurie with the Lavenders.”
