‘Miss Roxanne flung a book at me – she’s a bad-tempered weasel!’
The woman stared at her. ‘Hold your tongue, girl. Don’t you dare complain about your betters!’
‘But it’s not fair, I did nothing. Just because …’
‘Don’t say one more word. I will not have the likes of you answering back and causing trouble.’
Peggy sniffed. She waited to see if the housekeeper would stand up for her. But Hannah Lewis’s eyes were cold and unflinching. She did not care a toss what happened to the young maid.
‘Clean up that cut and then attend to your duties.’
Peggy went downstairs. Mrs O’Connor made a great fuss over her and told her to sit down and have a cup of tea and get her wind back. Later on, as she washed the roasting tin and scrubbed at the greasy pans, Peggy felt tears forcing their way out. Every time she moved her shoulder it hurt and by tomorrow no doubt it would be black and blue. As she looked out through the barred scullery window all she could see were the bare branches of the trees above. The garden was sleeping. All the blooms had been picked. The air was chill and a cold wind blew. There wasn’t even a weed to be seen.
CHAPTER 23
Mutiny
ALMOST AS SOON AS THE NEW housekeeper arrived there were changes at Rushton. Miss Lewis insisted that she go through the family menu with the Mistress. This meant that Mrs O’Connor lost daily contact with the lady of the house and got no chance to air her grievances. Miss Lewis also ordered that only basic simple food should be provided downstairs. As far as Peggy and Mrs O’Connor could see, this meant cuts of the worst meat and offal.
‘Tripe and liver and God knows what. Most of this stuff isn’t fit for a dog!’ moaned the cook.
‘Well, not Bonaparte anyways,’ joked Peggy.
‘That creature is better fed than ourselves! ‘Tis only the best for him – none of this rubbish.’ Mrs O’Connor cast a despairing glance at an offending dish of tripe which was beginning to smell. Peggy, who had usually filled up with thick slices of crusty vegetable-and-meat pies, found that she was often hungry now. Slices of cake and the upstairs pudding were off limits. A basic rice or tapioca pudding or a bread- and-butter pudding made from stale bread were adequate. However, Miss Lewis felt that as a second cousin of the family, she herself should enjoy the same menu as the Rowans.
‘I’ll guarantee the quality of the food. I’m sure I’ll eat with the family at times, but mostly I prefer the solitude of my room and the company of the Good Book,’ she asserted.
Mrs O’Connor nightly carried in the plate of delicious food and banged it down in front of her.
The cook worked with skill, but often nothing could disguise the greasiness of the aged mutton or hashed beef that they had to eat. Peggy longed for the rich steak-and-kidney pies and the delicious roast pork of Mrs Madden’s day. As she worked, her stomach groaned and grumbled and sometimes a weakness came over her.
There were words in the kitchen when Miss Lewis discovered Mrs O’Connor reading out loud from the papers. She told the cook there was to be no ‘scandal-mongery’ in the kitchen of Rushton! Miss Lewis would read a chapter of the Bible if they needed to listen to something.
Miss Lewis also insisted that Kitty attend to the mending and darning of the household since she was now well enough to sit up. ‘Everyone here must earn their keep,’ she announced. But the large basket of mending often lay untouched on the floor next to Kitty’s bed. ‘If that girl isn’t back on her feet again soon, she’ll definitely go!’ said the housekeeper.
Mrs O’Connor was afraid for the young maid. Every day she whipped up two whole eggs with a tiny drop of sherry and sent Peggy quick as lightning up the stairs with it to the invalid to try and build her up again. Peggy had strict instructions to make sure the other maid drank every bit of it and not to let ‘that old one’ catch her.
Not a day went by without the new housekeeper making some comment about Kitty.
‘Is that girl getting any better?’
Peggy would keep her head down and carry on working.
‘I’ll have to get her moved to an infirmary or women’s shelter.’
Peggy listened, hoping her thumping heart could not be heard.
‘Didn’t you hear me, Peggy? It’s not fair on you. How can you manage doing the work of two? We really need to get a replacement as soon as possible.’
Peggy and Mrs O’Connor knew that Kitty must show signs of recovery if she was to save herself from being dismissed. They were both fond of her, and knew she was too weak to survive on her own.
As soon as the housekeeper disappeared for a few hours they went up and brought Kitty downstairs. She was washed and cleaned and then she sat at the fire with the cook while Peggy cleared out the attic room and re-made the bed.
After a while Kitty was able to help Mrs O’Connor prepare the afternoon tea and gradually she got back on her feet. Peggy always made sure to do the heavy work and if Miss Lewis tried to force Kitty to do some task that would be too much for her, Mrs O’Connor would find some urgent job in the kitchen that needed doing.
Once or twice Mrs Rowan came downstairs. She stood in the centre of the kitchen, looking totally out of place.
‘I know you must all miss Mrs Madden, but Miss Lewis is a very experienced housekeeper. Her last position was in an Academy for Young Ladies. My husband is very pleased as she is able to talk to him about the economies she has made in the household budget. I’ve no head for figures, but no doubt it is all being well handled.’
Peggy and Kitty shifted uneasily. Mrs O’Connor was stirring a basin of cake mixture, grim and silent.
‘We’ll see about that,’ she muttered fiercely as the Mistress swept out of the kitchen.
Over the next few days a sense of mutiny took hold in the kitchen. There was silence when Miss Lewis entered, or else Mrs O’Connor would noisily sing a verse of some hymn. The other woman would purse her lips and walk by.
It was curious, but every second day some member of the family seemed to find a lump of gristle or piece of bone in their meal. One evening the Master nearly choked on a piece of fish-bone hidden under an Italian sauce.
Later they heard him talking to his cousin in her room where she was just finishing off her own dinner.
‘Damnation, woman, I’ll not have second-rate food in my own home.’
‘But Gregory, this is the finest quality fish. That stupid cook mustn’t have cleaned it or cut it up properly.’
Once the Master left her room, Hannah Lewis made straight for the kitchen. Mrs O’Connor was sitting in the chair near the fire, looking at yesterday’s paper.
‘You are deliberately trying to fight my authority and I will not have it. I am in charge of running the household, Mrs O’Connor. If you cannot take proper care in the preparation of food, well, I’m sure you can guess the outcome. I’ll say no more.’ And turning around she marched back to her room and banged the door.
Mrs O’Connor shook the paper. ‘The old bag! But we’ll never get the better of her.’
CHAPTER 24
Good Riddance
PEGGY WAS EXHAUSTED WAXING and re-waxing the floor of the landing. Miss Lewis had made her re-do the polishing three times before it was to her satisfaction. Today was Mrs O’Connor’s day off. She left the house at one o’clock and told them not to expect her back till late. Peggy and Kitty both suspected she was looking for another position. Peggy knew she would have to spend the afternoon in the kitchen helping the housekeeper prepare the evening meal.
‘Any housekeeper worth her salt should be able to turn her hand to everything. I’m a fine cook, even if I do say it myself,’ Miss Lewis announced smugly.
Peggy noted that the menu was more lavish than usual and she knew that the housekeeper was trying to show Mrs O’Connor up. For the main course there would be beef with oysters, and a fig pudding and a lemon cheesecake for dessert.
Although it was freezing outside, the walls of the kitchen were damp with heat.
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‘Peggy, go out and get me some fresh parsley and assorted herbs,’ Miss Lewis ordered.
‘But it’s freezing and starting to get dark,’ Peggy reminded her.
‘Just do as you’re told!’
Peggy had no time to go up and get her shawl. Luckily an old scarf of Mrs O’Connor’s hung near the back door and she wrapped it round herself. It was bitter outside after the heat of the kitchen. The ground was already beginning to harden and get frosty.
She snipped some parsley and lemon balm and sage and mace. Most of the plants had died back for the winter and Mrs O’Connor kept a supply of dried herbs in the kitchen – but oh no! that wasn’t good enough for Miss Lewis.
Peggy was just about to get up and go back to the warm kitchen when she noticed a strange herb close to the earth, meandering under the lavender bush. It looked like green-eye. Yes, she recognised it. Auntie Nano was always one for teaching you all about plants and herbs. Nano always swore that one little leaf of the green-eye was the best cure for anyone whose stomach had got frozen up and was constipated – one leaf was enough to get things moving! Peggy picked a tiny bunch of the herb and put it in her pocket.
Although she had started to shiver and her teeth were chattering, Peggy almost felt like whistling as she went back into the kitchen.
‘Wash the parsley and herbs and bring them over to me.’
‘Of course, Miss Lewis,’ she replied.
The housekeeper chopped the herbs finely and left them on the chopping board. ‘I’ll just sprinkle them on the meat once we’re ready to serve. Good for the blood, you know!’
While the housekeeper was pouring the soup into the tureen, Peggy added the green-eye which she had chopped to the rest of the herbs. The housekeeper then began to lay the tender fillets of beef with the oysters artistically on the plates. With her fingers she sprinkled a dusting of herbs across her handiwork.
‘Miss Roxanne only likes the leanest cut of meat, but I know she loves parsley,’ Peggy couldn’t resist saying, and she noticed with glee the two sprinklings the cook gave that portion. ‘Master Simon likes his meat plain,’ added Peggy guiltily, but still a hint of the garnish dusted his smaller portion.
An innocent Kitty carried up the serving tray. There was a left-over mutton stew for them, but Peggy had never enjoyed anything like it. Miss Lewis sat at the far end of the kitchen table. She had an extra helping of oysters for herself and emptied all that was left on the chopping board over her plate.
Peggy disappeared into the scullery to do the washing up early. Kitty was serving the fig pudding and lemon cheesecake.
Soon the kitchen gleamed and everything was in its place. There was no point in hanging around downstairs as Mrs O’Connor was still out. Kitty and Peggy were glad of an early night and the chance to do some reading, which they had been neglecting. Peggy decided not to tell Kitty what she had done because it would only implicate the other girl if she was found out, and she knew how afraid and weak Kitty was in that kind of situation.
At about midnight there were strange sounds from the room below. The housekeeper seemed to be knocking on the walls.
Kitty and Peggy both woke up with a start.
‘Do you think she’s calling us?’ wondered Kitty.
Peggy was still half-asleep. ‘No, she’d come and get us if she wanted us.’
Once they were awake they became aware of the constant flushing of the water closet on the floor below. Suddenly Mrs O’Connor appeared at the door, still wearing her coat and hat.
‘For God’s sake, girls, get up and give us a hand. The whole house is in an uproar. They’re all sick, with pains in their stomachs and running to the toilet all night. I’ve never seen the like of it.’
Peggy and Kitty had never seen the like of it either! They ferried hot drinks, stomach remedies and fresh linen back and forth all night. Even Bonaparte, who had been fed on Roxanne’s leftovers, was barking all the time to be let out to the garden. With pleasure Peggy opened the front door and let him off. Hearing his wails and moans, Peggy found it difficult to stop laughing. A twinge of guilt did strike her as she read a story to Master Simon to get him back to sleep. He was pale but his eyes were drowsy and in no time he snuggled back under the blankets and slept for the night.
The next morning Peggy and Kitty went straight down to the kitchen. They had their breakfast with Mrs O’Connor. There would be no need to bother cooking a breakfast as the whole family were still sleeping and would be lucky to manage a cup of weak tea. Peggy and Kitty had heard a combination of moans and snoring as they passed outside the housekeeper’s door.
Peggy was bent double in stitches, until she saw the confused look in the other maid’s eyes.
‘Well, girls, I tell you I’ve never seen the like of it. If you ask me they’ve been poisoned. ‘Twas something they ate. I tell you, that old rat bag couldn’t cook an egg!’ And the cook gave them an extra egg each.
Later, Kitty was sent to the doctor’s house to request an urgent visit to Rushton. When he arrived he was led from one bedroom to the next, examining each of the patients separately. Simon was clearly feeling better as he was jumping up and down on the bed.
The doctor came down the hallway to Mrs O’Connor. She led him in the direction of the housekeeper’s room. A few minutes later he went back to talk to the Master who was too ill to even consider going to his office despite having a series of meetings arranged.
‘It would seem to be some kind of gastric poisoning,’ announced Doctor Chapman. ‘Mrs O’Connor, I’ll leave the five invalids in your good care. Plenty of fluids – broth, beef tea and the like – and a light diet for the next two or three days. If by any chance there’s a turn for the worse,’ he glanced knowingly at the cook, ‘you should call me again.’
A look of alarm spread across the cook’s face.
‘Worse! God almighty, how could the five of them be worse than they are already? Tell me that!’ she muttered, making her way back down to the kitchen.
Doctor Chapman made a mental note as he stepped into his pony and trap never under any circumstances to mix oysters with fig pudding.
Two days later, the Master sent for both the cook and the housekeeper to come to his study. Two sets of raised voices could be heard from the room. After the meeting Hannah Lewis came out, her eyes blazing, but her face pale and tired-looking. She was defeated. Mrs O’Connor reigned supreme and the Master had agreed that she would have a say in the appointment of the next new housekeeper.
‘We have all learned a lesson,’ said the Master grimly.
‘Let’s hope they remember it,’ joked Mrs O’Connor later on as the servants ate their lunch.
Within two hours the other woman had packed her belongings and departed from the house.
‘Goodbye and good riddance,’ declared the cook.
CHAPTER 25
Thanksgiving
NEAR THE END OF NOVEMBER the weather turned bitterly cold. Every morning when they woke, Peggy and Kitty had to crack the ice in the water jug to wash. Blue-nosed and shivering they dragged on their warm uniforms and fled to the heat of the kitchen.
The whole place was in turmoil, preparing for Thanksgiving.
‘But what is Thanksgiving?’ asked Peggy.
‘It’s a kind of feastday – a holiday I suppose,’ answered Kitty vaguely. ‘Anyways, ‘tis fierce important.’
Whatever it was it meant a mountain of work as there would be lots of cousins coming to stay at Rushton. The house had to be cleaned from top to bottom until it glowed. Mrs O’Connor was all het up in the kitchen with the amount of cooking to be done.
Every time Peggy went down to the woodshed to fetch logs, the glassy stare of the enormous turkey swinging upside down from a meat-hook greeted her. Its ugly face and beak and dead body brushed against her as she went in and out. ‘God, it’s terrible,’ she said.
Mrs O’Connor handed Peggy a large, strange-looking object.
‘Now, Peggy, scoop out the flesh and chop it
up,’ she ordered.
‘What kind of a thing is this, Mrs O’Connor?’
‘It’s a pumpkin, child, for pumpkin pie,’ said the cook, laughing.
Peggy stared at the great orange vegetable on the chopping board. Its bright flesh was full of flattish pips and there was a strange smell from it. Heaven knows what kind of pie you’d get from it!
Although they were very busy there was a sense of peace in the kitchen. In two weeks’ time a new housekeeper would start, but for now they were on their own.
‘Any more word from home, Peggy?’ asked the cook.
‘No, but I sent them the picture of myself and a bit of savings. It’ll help towards the cost of the baby and getting the house done up. I want them to know I’m all right, that I’m set up.’
Mrs O’Connor laughed. ‘Aren’t you the great one. Sure, they’ll be right proud of you. You’ll go far, Peggy.’
The next day was Thanksgiving. The smell of roasting turkey filled the house and the dining-table was sparkling with shining crystal, fine china and silver. Peggy watched from the stairs as the family and their guests filed into the dining-room. She had expected the Mistress, Roxanne and the rest of them to be dressed in their best finery, but was amazed to see them in simple, plain clothes.
‘It’s in honour of times past and their pilgrim ancestors,’ whispered Mrs O’Connor.
It took the two of them to lift the magnificent roasted bird out of the oven, place it on the giant platter and then carry it upstairs. Kitty served the sweet potatoes and buttered corn. The Master began to carve the turkey to the cheers of all at the table.
An hour later Peggy and the others in the kitchen were sitting down to their own Thanksgiving dinner.
‘No turkey ever tasted better,’ declared Kitty, smiling at the cook.
Wildflower Girl (Children of the Famine) Page 12
