The Three Kings

by Doris Davidson

  When they were back on the cart, he took a paper bag from his pocket and held it out to Katie, who helped herself to one of the thick slices of bread Mary Ann had buttered for them, and one of the chunks of cheese. As he took a share, William John laughed, ‘It wouldna do if your belly’s rumbling when you meet Mrs Gunn.’ Taking a huge mouthful, he picked up the reins with his free hand and gave the horse a gentle flick.

  Over the next two hours, he regaled Katie with tales of his youth, which, although she had heard them all before, made her almost forget why they were together on the strange road. Then he stopped again to give a nosebag of oats to the mare and to let them exercise their numb legs. ‘It’s a good thing it’s a dry day,’ he observed, squeezing the hand that had slid into his. ‘There’s nothing worse than going into somebody else’s house wi’ the water dripping off you.’

  Getting no reply, he said, gently, ‘Oh, lass, it’ll nae be as bad as you think. I’d never have let her put you to the Howe o’ Fenty if I thought …’

  ‘I’m scared, Granda.’

  ‘Ah, my wee dearie, there’s nothing to be scared at. Mrs Gunn canna eat you.’ Katie giving a tremulous smile, he went on, ‘Once you get the first day in, you’ll feel as easy wi’ her as you did wi’ Mrs Fleming.’

  ‘I suppose so … but what if Mr Gunn’s not so nice as the doctor?’

  ‘He will be, and any road, you’ll nae see much o’ him.’

  Katie was satisfied with that. She hadn’t seen much of Doctor Fleming, and it would be the same with Mr Gunn, so it wouldn’t matter what he was like. ‘Is there any bread and cheese left, Granda?’

  Her grandfather grinned. ‘That’s my lass.’

  They sat down by the side of the road to eat the last of what Mary Ann had given them, then after removing the mare’s nosebag, they climbed aboard the cart again and carried on in companionable silence.

  Over an hour and a half passed before William John pointed to a large farm on their right. ‘That must be Rennie’s cousin’s place. He said he aye stops there the night if he’s been to Huntly, for it’s ower far for the horse to go there and back in the one day. He said I’d recognize it by the crooked lum and the three whitewashed outhouses at one side, and the stables at the other side.’

  ‘Will you be sleeping there tonight, Granda? Is that why you told Grandma you wouldn’t see her till tomorrow?’

  ‘It’ll be the first night I’ve ever spent away from her since the day we were made man and wife.’

  Only a quarter of an hour later, they saw a signpost to the Howe of Fenty, and Katie’s throat tightened as the cart turned into the bumpy track. It was late afternoon now, and the sun was shining brightly, but the thick wood on each side of them gave the place an eerie, unearthly atmosphere, and she hoped that the house itself would be more welcoming.

  William John turned to her with a lop-sided smile which told her that he, too, was finding it hard to keep cheerful. ‘I’m going to miss you, Katie lass.’

  The soft-spoken words were almost her undoing. ‘I’ll miss you and all, Granda,’ she gulped, fighting back her tears, for she couldn’t let her new mistress see her weeping.

  When the house came into view, a wave of disappointment swept over her. She had pictured a big imposing mansion and there was nothing imposing about this place. It wasn’t even all that big – a tall, square, forbidding building with four chimneys, only one of which was smoking – and when they went round the side, she saw that it was built on the bank of a river. Her grandfather drew the horse to a halt outside the back door. ‘Write and let us ken how you get on, lass, and mind, say if something’s bothering you and you dinna like it, and I’ll come as quick as I can to take you hame again.’

  ‘Grandma wouldn’t be pleased. She’s glad to see the back of me.’

  ‘Nay, lass, she’ll miss you as much as me.’

  Although she found this impossible to believe, she jumped to the ground without arguing, and her grandfather got off to lift down her box. ‘I’ll not wait,’ he said, gruffly, laying it on the doorstep then spinning round and getting up on the cart. He held his silver head erect while he turned the mare, and kept a smile on his face when he waved to her, but as she watched the cart going back up the track, she saw his shoulders slumping and knew he felt just as miserable as she did.

  She was about to knock timidly on the blue door when it was opened. ‘You’ll be Katie,’ Mrs Gunn smiled. ‘Was that your grandfather? What a nice-looking man, but he should have waited and I’d have given him something to eat.’

  Katie’s icy heart warmed to her. ‘He’s getting lodgings at a farm back the road a bit, and stabling for the horse. Um, where’ll I put my kist, Mrs Gunn?’

  ‘Just leave it there and Sammy’ll take it up to your room for you.’

  Presuming that Sammy was the gardener or the odd-job man, Katie left the box where it was and followed her employer into the kitchen. She seemed a nice woman, though she did look as if a puff of wind would blow her away.

  Mrs Gunn gestured for her to be seated. ‘I’ve always done everything myself, but I’m not very strong, and I’m finding it a bit too much. I’ll carry on doing the cooking, because my husband’s fussy about his food, and I’ll do the dusting and maybe some polishing, but I’ll leave you to do the heavy cleaning and the washing and ironing. I hope that won’t be too much for you?’

  ‘Oh, no, I’ll manage that.’ As she said it, Katie had a moment’s panic, wondering how many rooms there were and how many people she would be expected to wash for.

  ‘My husband and I always eat in the dining room …’ Mrs Gunn broke off with a nervous giggle. ‘Angus likes to make out we’re better off than we are, and he speaks about the dining room, but it’s really just this end of the parlour. Anyway, you’ll serve our meals in there – that’ll save me having to shuttle back and forth like I’ve always done – and you’ll take yours in here with Sammy. There are two bedrooms on the middle floor, so that’s just four rooms to do, though I’ll expect you to keep your own room clean … I’ve put you in one of the garrets. You won’t have to bother about the other one, it’s never used.’

  Mrs Gunn drained her teacup and leaned back. ‘You’d better unpack first, then you can do some of the ironing. It’s been lying quite a while, because I haven’t felt up to tackling it, and I couldn’t face washing last week, so you’ll have to do it tomorrow. I’ll leave you to find your room on your own … the stairs take too much out of me … it’s the second door on the top landing.’

  The steps of the first flight were wide and shallow, but those to the garrets were narrow and steep, and, young and fit as she was, Katie was puffing by the time she reached the top. She found that her room was smaller than she had been used to, and had no fireplace, but there was a low chest of drawers and a high single bed with a flowered quilt. At one side of the bed there was a wooden chair, and at the other a small table holding a candlestick and a box of matches. Although the only window was a small skylight in the roof, the sun was streaming in, so she gave a grunt of satisfaction and opened the lid of her box.

  As she hung her skirts and blouses in the cupboard in the corner, Katie wondered when Sammy, whatever his position here, had taken her box in, for he hadn’t come through the kitchen. He must have taken it in by the front door, which seemed a bit senseless when it meant he had to carry it all the way round. Still, she shouldn’t care, as long as it was here. After laying her underclothes and stockings neatly in the drawers, she went down to begin her duties.

  Mrs Gunn was preparing vegetables, but told her where to find the iron. ‘Angus doesn’t come home for dinner until half past six,’ she went on, ‘so we need not set the table just yet. Now, about your time off, Katie. There’s really nothing to do round here, we’re so far off the beaten track, and even a half-day wouldn’t be long enough for you to walk into Huntly and back and give you time to do anything when you’re there. As for going to Cullen … well, you won’t be able to afford the fare very often
, and you’d have to go to Huntly first and change trains at Keith, in any case, and they don’t run at very convenient times … so …’

  She eyed the girl a little uncertainly. ‘I don’t know how you’ll feel about this, but I thought …’ She stopped again with an apologetic smile. ‘I believe most ladies give their maids an hour off every week and a Sunday afternoon once a month, but I am offering you a long weekend off every six months. Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and I wouldn’t expect you back until the Monday, by the first train you can get. Do you think that is fair?’

  Ignorant as she was of how much free time a live-in maid should expect, Katie still felt somewhat cheated – she’d had every Sunday off in her last position – and to make sure that she had not misunderstood, she asked, ‘You mean I won’t have any time off till October?’

  Mrs Gunn seemed slightly uncomfortable. ‘It’ll be more suitable for both of us. As I explained, you couldn’t go home and back in one day. Do you understand?’

  Remembering that a servant was in no position to argue or negotiate, Katie gave a bleak nod. ‘Yes, thank you.’ After all, she thought, some employers would make no allowance for the difficulty she would have in getting home.

  The woman beamed in some relief. ‘That’s settled, then.’

  She was much younger than Katie had expected, under forty, by the look of her, though her face was pale and there was a sadness about her eyes at times. Her fair hair, greying and dull, was coiled into earphones which didn’t suit her, and she had worry lines on her forehead, yet she seemed quite friendly. Accustomed to the sharp orders and reprimands dished out by her grandmother, Katie had been delighted when her first employer treated her as a person, not as somebody who should jump to her bidding, and her fears that Mrs Gunn would be different had vanished within seconds of meeting the woman, though she had a nerve expecting any maid to work so long without time off.

  Satisfied with her arrangements, Mrs Gunn began to chatter again. ‘Angus has a business in Huntly.’ She gave another of her nervous giggles. ‘Well, he calls it his business, but it’s just a small clothing shop, though he makes a decent living from it. He used to cycle the five miles every day until he bought the motor car about six months ago. I’ve never been in it myself, I’m too scared, but he’s very proud of it. Not many shopkeepers in Huntly have one yet, and I think it makes him feel … superior.’

  To Katie, Angus Gunn sounded as though he had ideas above himself, but she didn’t like to say so, and Mrs Gunn was asking her a question. ‘How long have you lived with your grandparents?’

  ‘Grandma told me my father, her son, was lost at sea not long before I was born, and my mother died giving birth to me. There weren’t any other relations, so she took me.’

  ‘Oh, how tragic, but you were lucky that your grandmother was willing to have you, otherwise you could have been sent to an orphanage.’

  Katie had never thought of that, but she dismissed the idea and screwed up her nose. ‘She only took me because she thought it was her duty.’

  ‘Nonsense! I’m sure she loves you, though it couldn’t have been easy for her to cope with an infant at her age.’

  This was another thought new to Katie, but she had no time to consider it because Mrs Gunn was still prattling on. ‘I’m glad I only had one child. Sammy’s a bit backward, you see, and he was a lot of work when he was younger. Of course, he’s seventeen now, and able to work in the garden and do little jobs about the house. Angus blames me for Sammy’s … handicap, but he can be most unstable himself at times. He always had a quick temper, and he has been much worse since he got the head wound in the war … shrapnel, you know, and I’m sure they didn’t get it all out. He was invalided out of the Scottish Horse and he has never got over the shame. I am sometimes quite afraid of him.’ Stopping in embarrassment, she said, ‘But you don’t want to hear about my troubles.’

  Katie had heard enough to make her apprehensive of what went on there, and was glad of the silence that followed. She would get on all right with Mrs Gunn, but how would she fare with Sammy – who had turned out to be the son of the house – and his father? She didn’t like the sound of either of them.

  At five o’clock, she was told to light the fire in the parlour, and at six she had to set the table in the dining end, her employer saying as she supervised, ‘Angus prefers to help himself, so put everything in serving dishes.’

  Katie was not impressed with Mr Gunn when she saw him. In direct contrast to his wife’s petite fairness, he was tall and dark. Everything about him was dark – skin, hair, eyes and lowering eyebrows – even his suit and tie. Despite his long face having the beginnings of jowls, she thought that he would probably be classed as handsome by some women, but he didn’t appeal to her. She felt quite disconcerted when he looked at her with a weird smile, and was extremely thankful when he went out again as soon as he had eaten.

  While she did not take such an instant dislike to Sammy, she was uneasy when she sat with him at the kitchen table. He, too, was tall, but it was a gangling tallness, as though his bones had never hardened. His hair was a shade lighter than his father’s and grew at several different angles from his head. His round face was fresh-complexioned and still little-boyish, and it was only too evident that he was ‘one o’ God’s bairns’, as her grandmother described such poor unfortunates in her better moods. His intent stare unnerved Katie, and when she asked him if he wanted more potatoes, he just wobbled his head from side to side and kept on staring at her, so she was most relieved when he rose from the table and disappeared through the back door.

  Utterly exhausted when she finished tidying the kitchen, she went up to her room, reflecting, as she undressed, that she would never come much in contact with Mr Gunn, nor with Sammy, but, even so, she didn’t think she would ever feel happy at the Howe of Fenty. And it was miles from anywhere, at the back of beyond. So much for her grandmother’s hope that she would meet different people. The three Gunns were the only folk she would ever see, and she could do fine without seeing two of them again.

  Wishing that she was in her old bed at home, she pulled the blankets up round her chin and the tears which had been hovering for some time came flooding out.

  Chapter Two

  When she and Mrs Gunn were putting on clean sheets in the second bedroom the following day, Katie tried to find out something about its occupant. ‘Sammy doesn’t say much,’ she ventured.

  Her employer gave a sad smile. ‘He’s scared of strangers, but he’s harmless. My husband is sometimes quite hard on him – he’s never got over him being … the way he is – so please don’t say anything if you see him slapping Sammy. The boy expects to be punished if he does anything wrong.’

  Katie could well imagine Mr Gunn taking his displeasure out on his son; he looked the kind of man who would take a delight in hurting others. She was somewhat surprised that Sammy didn’t join his mother and her for lunch, and when he did come in, he gobbled his meal at great speed, as if he couldn’t wait to go outside again to be away from them.

  Dinner was a quiet affair in both kitchen and ‘dining room’, Mr Gunn apparently having little to say to his wife and she to him, and Sammy once more staring dourly at Katie over the table and giving his head a shake or a nod when she offered him anything. He scampered off as soon as he could, whereas Mr Gunn shifted from the table to a more comfortable chair at the other end of the parlour. He had not spoken once to Katie since she arrived, but she was conscious of him watching her while she cleared the dishes, and didn’t let her eyes stray anywhere near him.

  As she washed up, she reflected that things shouldn’t be too bad; she would see him for half an hour in the mornings and less than an hour every night, so she could put up with that, and she got on very well with Mrs Gunn. After giving the floor a last sweep, she made sure that everything was in order then went upstairs. She would have liked to have had a short rest by the fire, but she felt safer in her own room.

  Sammy remained uncommunicative over
the next few days; not truculent, more distrustful, and Katie did her best to show him that she wanted to talk to him and would listen if he wanted to tell her anything. By the look of things, his mother and father didn’t have much time for him. Still, however sorry she was for him, she felt it might be best not to be over-friendly.

  Her pity for him was intensified when Mr Gunn came in by the back door one night and, without a word of warning, gave his son a stinging slap on the cheek. ‘You left the spade out,’ he thundered.

  ‘I forgot,’ Sammy muttered. ‘Mother said she needed some logs and I …’ Another slap brought him to a halt.

  ‘No excuses, boy! You know perfectly well that tools rust if they are left out of doors overnight.’

  ‘I won’t do it again.’

  ‘You had better not!’ Mr Gunn swept past Katie and went across the hall to the dining room.

  Touching the red patch on his cheek, Sammy looked at Katie and said, as if explaining his father’s cruelty, ‘Sammy was a bad boy.’

  ‘Forgetting to put a spade past isn’t all that bad.’ She nearly added that his father shouldn’t have hit him, but she didn’t want to stir up more trouble between them.

  She had been at the Howe of Fenty for almost two weeks – Sammy having overcome his shyness with her – when events took an unexpected, and most unwelcome, turn. Laying the tureen of soup at the side of Mr Gunn’s plate, she was dismayed when he placed his hand over hers. ‘I hope you have settled in, Katie?’ he murmured, looking up at her with something in his eyes that spread ribbons of alarm weaving all through her.

  ‘Yes, sir, thank you,’ she muttered, not daring to remove her imprisoned member.

  ‘That’s good.’ He released her then, and, drawing away, she glanced across to see if his wife had noticed, but Mrs Gunn was unconcernedly smoothing her napkin over her knees.

  Feeling that she had been sullied in some way, Katie went straight to the sink to wash her hands when she returned to the kitchen, which made Sammy observe, earnestly, ‘Did you put your thumb in the soup?’