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A Place to Call Home Page 13

by Evie Grace


  Her aunt measured out the first dose. ‘Eldest first,’ she said.

  ‘I’m too old for this,’ Rose said.

  ‘You’re never too old to look after your health. Come on, open your beak.’

  Retching, she took a sip. She couldn’t swallow it, nor could she spit it out in front of her aunt, so she had to let the fishy fluid filter between her teeth as Donald took his spoonful, making a great play of spluttering and coughing, clutching his throat.

  ‘Hold your nose, Minnie.’ Aunt Temperance poured a third dose, pinched Minnie’s nose and forced the spoon between her lips. She turned back to Donald. ‘Show me it’s gone. I don’t trust you.’

  He opened his mouth and their aunt nodded her approval. Rose froze, expecting her to ask her to do the same, but she didn’t – she turned and stalked back to the kitchen with the bottle and spoon, giving Rose the chance to spit into the aspidistra pot.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Donald began to laugh.

  ‘Shh – she’ll make me have another dose if she finds out.’ Rose wiped her mouth. ‘That stuff is disgusting.’

  ‘You must take your medicine, or you’ll die.’ Minnie burst into tears.

  ‘Oh Minnie, I’m not going to die. Look at me. I’m as fit as a flea.’

  ‘So was Ma, and Pa too,’ she sobbed. ‘I miss them, and I hate the Kingsleys. Can’t you make them go away?’

  She couldn’t, but she could make sure that they spent as little time with them as possible and to that end she was looking forward to going back to school in the morning. However, their aunt had other plans.

  ‘The school must remain closed,’ she said when Rose and Minnie were ready to leave after breakfast. ‘You can’t possibly run it by yourself. The pupils will find another school.’

  ‘They’ve paid the term’s fees in advance – they’re owed the education that Ma would have given them.’

  ‘Your mother is dead and the contract broken. What’s more, there’s no one to teach them.’

  ‘I can do it. It brings in a goodly amount of money,’ Rose said, playing on her aunt’s greed.

  ‘Hardly. If anything, it’s made a loss over the years because your parents gave out free education to the little tykes from the Rookery – a complete waste of time when their characters are fixed by the time they are weaned. Anyway, Mr Kingsley has had a good look at those ledgers and your mother’s figures don’t add up. Agnes never took an income from her teaching.’

  The revelation that the school made no money made Rose begin to doubt herself. She had some idea about balance sheets and termly fees, but Ma hadn’t shown her the actual books.

  ‘It seems to me that Jane will need some help around the house from now on, so go and put a note on the door at the school, then come back and work out how you’ll apportion the chores.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘That is all I will say on the matter. Run along.’

  When Rose reached the school, she found a shadowy figure dressed in tattered rags sheltering from the drizzle in the doorway.

  ‘Baxter?’ She lowered the hood of her cloak. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’ve bin here every morning to see when I can come back to lessons.’ He gave her a big grin. ‘Miss, I’m glad you’re back. I’ve missed bein’ here … I’ve even missed the readin’, like, and the writin’ and the ’rithmetic.’

  ‘I don’t know how to tell you this, but there is no more school,’ she said.

  ‘Why?’ he said. ‘You are at least as good a teacher as your ma. Better.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s impossible at present. My aunt has expressed a desire that the school should close.’

  ‘What has it got to do with that old bat?’

  ‘Please, this is my aunt you are talking about.’

  ‘I’m sorry, miss. It’s just that my blood is boilin’ and the words slipped out.’

  What did her aunt care about the pupils? As far as she was concerned, those who were wealthy enough could pay to go elsewhere, while the others could continue their education on the streets.

  ‘We’ll call this a prize for good attendance,’ she said quietly, slipping a coin into his sticky palm. ‘Keep this to yourself.’

  He thanked her, and went on, ‘Will I see you again?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure of that. Good day, Baxter. Oh, wait a minute. I wonder if we might go on with our lessons somehow? We could meet once a week and continue with the three R’s. What do you think?’

  ‘I’d like that, but my pa … he wouldn’t and I don’t want to cross him. Thanks, though. Good day, miss.’ He ran off into the rain, leaving Rose feeling sore at heart.

  Not for the first time, she wondered what her father had been thinking of.

  Chapter Ten

  Aspidistras and Apple-Pie Beds

  The family settled into their new routine over the next few days. Mrs Dunn and Jane adjusted to the different regime and life went on until the middle of September when Aunt Temperance fell out with the housekeeper over their contract with one of the local tradesmen.

  One morning Rose was in the kitchen when she overheard them arguing in the hall about the butcher who brought regular deliveries to Willow Place. Aunt Temperance swore he was taking advantage of Mrs Dunn’s good nature, providing mutton when she’d requested lamb. She refused to pay his bill and told the housekeeper to cancel his deliveries in future. She went on to grumble about the cost of sending the laundry out and declared it would be more economical for the linens to be washed at the house, at which Mrs Dunn’s voice rose to a fury.

  ‘Jane doesn’t have time to do any laundering, and you’re going to have to have another think if you imagine that I’ll be doing your dirty smalls!’ Mrs Dunn came marching into the kitchen, her cheeks bright pink as she took off her apron. ‘If the Kingsleys want change, they can have it. I’m sorry, Rose, but my temperament isn’t compatible with your aunt’s. I can’t work for her a moment longer. She is driving me to distraction with her demands.’

  ‘Please, don’t leave us,’ Rose begged. How would they go on without Mrs Dunn, who had been a constant in their lives for so many years? She felt sick at heart.

  ‘It will work out for you – you have your Aunt Marjorie’s protection, and Arthur, of course.’ Mrs Dunn hung her apron on the hook on the back of the kitchen door.

  ‘How will I manage without you?’ Jane joined in.

  ‘Jane, you will do perfectly well – in fact, I think you may well blossom without me.’ Forcing a smile, Mrs Dunn turned to Rose. ‘If you need any tips for making brawn, you know where I am.’ She wiped her hands on a cloth and walked out into the hall to confront Aunt Temperance. Rose followed.

  ‘Mrs Kingsley, I am leaving.’

  ‘Can’t you see I’m otherwise engaged, you tiresome woman? I’m expecting Mrs Kinders to call at ten.’ Mrs Kinders was one of her acquaintances from the cathedral. ‘We’ll discuss this later.’

  ‘There is nothing to discuss,’ Mrs Dunn said, appraising the situation. ‘I promised myself that I wouldn’t stay on here when you and Mr Kingsley moved in, but I changed my mind out of loyalty to Mr and Mrs Cheevers and their children. I can’t continue any longer – I’m handing in my notice forthwith.’

  ‘You will stay for a full month as agreed in your contract with Agnes,’ Aunt Temperance said.

  ‘I shall leave straight away. My mistress is dead and I have no contract with you, so I’m not bound to stay on. I will collect my wages tomorrow, Mrs Kingsley. Good morning to you.’

  ‘Good morning, Mrs Dunn.’ Aunt Temperance cast her parting shot as the housekeeper left. ‘Just remember that sometimes it’s better the devil you know than the one that you don’t. Don’t just stand there, Rose and Minnie. Those cupboards won’t clear themselves.’ She turned to the maid who was at the kitchen door, her mouth open. ‘Jane, you will step into Mrs Dunn’s shoes.’

  From then on after Mrs Dunn’s departure, Rose and Minnie worked in the house with Jane; Mr Kingsley, Arthu
r and Donald continued with their duties at the tannery; and their aunt kept up appearances, calling on her acquaintances and inviting them back to Willow Place to show off her home.

  One morning in October, Rose was up early. Unable to sleep for Minnie’s snoring, she rinsed her face, brushed her hair and cleaned her teeth with tooth powder, made from Ma’s recipe of olive oil, salt water and ash, before going downstairs to look for Jane. At first, she couldn’t find her. Was she upstairs, fetching the pisspots, or had she gone to the market early? Or – she strained her ears – was that the sound of sobbing?

  ‘Jane?’ She made her way to the scullery where she found the maid with her back to her, staring at a huge stack of dirty dishes. ‘Is there something wrong?’

  The maid turned. ‘I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t want you to see me like this, but I can’t help it. I’m at the end of my tether.’

  ‘Have you slept at all?’ Rose asked, noticing the dark rings around her eyes.

  ‘I have had but two hours of sleep because Mrs Kingsley wanted me to get the laundry done by last night.’

  ‘I thought she’d changed her mind about sending it out.’

  ‘No, she’s instructed me to do it, along with all the cleaning and baking. I got up early, but as you can see I am way behind like the cow’s tail.’

  ‘Let me help. I’ll wash the floor and get on with the baking while you get the dishes done.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Jane sniffed as Rose reached past her for the mop, and went to give the floor a quick lick and a promise before opening Ma’s old book of household management to look for a recipe.

  ‘What are you making?’ Yawning, Minnie came to join her a little while later.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Rose said, looking down at her sister’s muddy feet. ‘I thought you were in bed.’

  ‘I’ve been outside talking to the birds. Cock Robin was singing in the holly bush and Jenny Wren was hopping around by the shed.’

  ‘Take your shoes off, please. I’ve just scrubbed the floor.’ Rose corrected herself. ‘Sort of.’

  Minnie took off her shoes and slid around the floor in her stockings to remove any trace of her footprints.

  ‘There,’ she sang out. ‘It’s as clean as a whistle.’

  ‘And your stockings will have to go straight in the wash,’ Rose said.

  ‘Oh, you’re making poor man’s pudding.’ Minnie’s eyes lit up and her hand slid towards the crock of raisins which had been brought all the way from the exotic Ottoman Empire.

  ‘Keep your hands off those.’ Rose smiled. ‘Fetch me the sugar from the pantry.’

  Minnie brought the sugar loaf, and Rose used a hammer and chisel to break it into chunks before cutting it into smaller pieces with the nippers. She placed slices of bread into a bowl and added a layer of raisins, some cinnamon and some orange peel, before pouring a mixture of melted butter, milk and a beaten egg on top with a sprinkling of sugar.

  Once she’d put it in the oven to bake, she asked Minnie to keep an eye on the time while she answered the letter from Aunt Marjorie which had arrived the day before. Their aunt had written that she was suffering from pains in her joints, so Rose didn’t like to worry her unnecessarily. Instead, she wrote back:

  Dear Aunt Marjorie,

  Minnie is well. We are becoming accustomed to the new routine. Arthur and Tabby haven’t set a new date for their wedding yet.

  She paused, unsure what else to say. She thought of describing how Aunt Temperance had made Jane cry by overloading her with work, but decided that that would bring Aunt Marjorie rushing to Willow Place. At dinner on the last evening of her prolonged stay with them, she had looked pale and complained of indigestion as well as her usual aches and pains. Rose wished her aunt could afford a peaceful retirement – she needed a rest, not more strain and stress.

  She continued writing.

  The Kingsleys have closed the school and let the cottage out. I feel bad about it, but I must respect their wishes. I suppose they feel that they have contributed enough to society by taking on the four of us.

  Donald is playing cricket again, and Minnie is sewing. As for me, the days pass quickly in a flurry of cooking and chores, so I have little time to read, but I mustn’t grumble. We are happy in our own way.

  Your loving Rose

  She went out to post it and ran into Miss Miskin on the way back.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said brightly, envying Tabby’s navy gloves as she unbuttoned the one on her left hand and took it off. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m well, thank you, but what about you? Arthur has told me what you’ve been through. I hope you’re settling down with your aunt and uncle now. It sounds like it’s been a nightmare.’

  Rose hesitated, taken aback at Tabby’s frank speech.

  ‘I’m sorry. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything, but I thought that with us soon to be sisters …’

  ‘Oh, it’s fine.’ Rose smiled, seeing the flash of gemstones and gold on Tabby’s finger. ‘Is that the ring?’

  Tabby held out her hand so Rose could examine the thin gold band set with three small red garnets.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘It was a gift from your parents,’ Tabby said. ‘Oh, I wish I’d had the chance to get to know them better. Your pa was so generous and good-humoured, while your ma was … well, she was kind and very refined. I always felt welcome at Willow Place.’

  Rose couldn’t help sensing the unspoken contrast with the Kingsleys’ regime. Tabby didn’t come to visit them now. Hastily, she changed the subject. ‘I hope our bridesmaids’ dresses still fit. I’m sure Minnie has grown taller.’

  ‘I expect you’ll be next down the aisle, Rose,’ Tabby teased. ‘There must be a young man who’s caught your eye?’

  ‘Oh, not yet.’

  ‘You’ll meet someone soon, I’m sure. Being a bridesmaid is meant to be a good way of procuring a husband.’

  Rose didn’t like the sound of that – the phrase ‘procuring a husband’ didn’t sound terribly romantic when she wanted a gentleman who would fall at her feet and declare his eternal love for her.

  ‘I hope you find someone as wonderful as my Arthur. I know he’ll always look after me.’

  Rose heard the cathedral bell tolling the hour. ‘I’d better be getting back. It’s been lovely to see you.’

  ‘You haven’t been to church recently,’ Tabby said quickly. ‘Reverend Holdsworth has been asking after you. I expect you worship elsewhere with your aunt and uncle. I’ve spoken to Arthur, of course, but he’s careful about how much he reveals, not wanting to embarrass his brother and sisters. He’s kind in that way – in every way.’

  Rose wasn’t sure whether she could confide in Tabby or not. Having thought for a moment, she decided there could be no harm in it.

  ‘We haven’t been anywhere on a Sunday for a while. My aunt took us to St Mildred’s once, and the cathedral twice. Donald didn’t mean to, but he had an attack of the hiccoughs and everyone was looking at us.’ Rose couldn’t help grinning at the memory. Her aunt had expressed her disappointment in the fact that the Archbishop had not made his way from Lambeth Palace to grace them with his presence, and was embarrassed by Donald’s behaviour – which hadn’t been his fault – and by the Cheeverses’ state of dress, which was in her opinion rather too shabby for the hallowed precincts of the cathedral. After that, she told them to stay at home to help Jane and occupy themselves.

  ‘I always wished I’d had brothers,’ Tabby said. ‘I look forward to seeing you again soon.’

  ‘Very soon, I hope,’ Rose responded. As she made her way back to Willow Place, she was lighter of heart than she had been for a while.

  The same evening, when they had finished dinner and all of the poor man’s pudding had gone, there was a howl of anguish from the hall.

  ‘What has happened to my lovely plant? It is dying!’ Holding the aspidistra aloft, Aunt Temperance came marching into the kitchen where the younger Cheeverses tended to congre
gate around the table, in preference to the parlour. She pulled it out of the pot by its leaves, which had lost their shine and turned brown. ‘Ugh. It smells of fish. How strange.’ Wrinkling her nose, she flashed a glance at Rose and the twins. ‘Do you have anything to say about this?’

  ‘No, Aunt,’ Rose said.

  ‘No.’ Minnie shook her head for extra emphasis.

  ‘I wonder if it would be worth speaking to Alderman Masters to see if he has any idea what’s wrong with it,’ Donald said. ‘He has green fingers.’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Aunt Temperance’s hair released a faint puff of white powder. ‘What a good idea. Thank you, Donald. I’m very glad of your advice. I think you are growing up at last.’

  ‘You owe me, Rose,’ he said when their aunt had left the room again.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said archly.

  ‘You know very well – I’ve seen you spitting in the pot every Sunday while me and Minnie have to suffer.’ He chuckled. ‘I’ve a good mind to mention it at dinnertime.’

  ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘Of course not.’ He stood up. ‘I’m going to find Joe.’

  Rose smiled. Donald also seemed happier than he had been for some time: life was looking up a little. She wondered how long it would last.

  Not long, it seemed, because their aunt and uncle’s behaviour to Jane was worsening by the day, wearing her down with their nit-picking and bullying. When Mr Kingsley rolled in late at night, he would rouse the maid from her slumber with requests for strong coffee and Rose wasn’t sure what else, but she could hear Jane’s yelps of protest from the kitchen as she lay in her bed at the top of the house. Occasionally, her aunt would interrupt them, screaming at her husband for his drunken antics and lack of consideration for her feelings.

  One morning after one of these incidents, Rose came into the dining room with Minnie to help Jane clear the plates, and heard her aunt’s voice raised in shrill complaint.

  ‘There is no need to speak to me like that, Mr Kingsley!’

  Arthur and Donald had excused themselves and Minnie was pushing a piece of buttered toast around her plate. Mr Kingsley was sitting at one end of the table, and Aunt Temperance at the other as if she was Queen Victoria holding court. Rose noted with distaste that her uncle had left his devilled kidneys.

 

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