by Anna Jacobs
Pauline Collett was a wealthy woman in her own right and had been since the age of twenty-two, when her father died and left her, for lack of a male heir, the family fortune and estate. She had, even by that age, resigned herself to spinsterdom. There were few eligible gentlemen in Bilsden and those few had shown little sign of being interested in anything but pale, colourless Pauline Collett’s prospects of inheriting money. When she was in full possession of her father’s fortune the same gentlemen had intensified their pursuit, but Pauline had found she enjoyed the power of her money, and was not going to be fooled into making any gentleman a present of it and then retiring to breed his children while he continued to enjoy himself.
However, eight years later, she had begun to tire of her single state and to feel lonely and unfulfilled. And what would happen to Collett Hall when she died? She had decided that she must marry and have children. But she would not marry a man who would take the management of her fortune out of her own very capable hands! The law was cruel to women, handing all their money over to their husbands. So Pauline had set out to survey the neighbourhood and find someone who would not try to take over.
She had noticed Saul Hinchcliffe one day in Bilsden’s High Street, and had thought him a fine figure of a man. It hadn’t taken her very long to find out who he was and she had started going to Todmorden Road Chapel in order to get to know him better. Netherden, where she lived, was too small a hamlet to have its own church and she was not a regular attender at any other church or chapel, preferring to stay home during the worst of the winter and to choose her church in summer according to which route she felt like driving along. You could afford to be eccentric when you were rich.
Liking what she saw of Mr Hinchcliffe, Pauline began to give lavishly to the chapel furnishing fund and to look around for other ways of involving herself with him. Heavens, what a primitive, uncomfortable place the chapel was! She allowed Saul to lead her to salvation, and she then took over the Ladies’ Charity Committee. Her pursuit of the young minister was very circumspect. She had no intention of providing a raree-show for her fellow Methodists, let alone for the other people in the town.
Unaware of her designs on him, Saul was delighted with his helpful new chapel member and was fooled by her many charitable acts into believing that she was behaving simply as a caring Christian. Gradually, he learned to enjoy her company and to admire her fine brain, as well as to turn to her for help and advice about any female member of the congregation who had problems.
He sat there now, nodding approvingly as Miss Collett conducted the interview in her own way. He looked plump and smug and pink, no longer the zealous young minister with a poor congregation, but the established incumbent of an expanding and thriving chapel.
“I believe you are expecting a child, Annie?”
“Yes, miss.”
“Mr Hinchcliffe has told me your story and I have verified it with Dr Lewis.”
Annie lowered her eyes to conceal the anger that this statement aroused in her. She couldn’t afford to be angry.
“Dr Lewis also explained his wife’s misinterpretation of the situation as the reason why she would not give you a reference. It was a most unchristian act to turn you out like that!” Pauline Collett did not like Annabelle Lewis, which had also influenced her in Annie’s favour. She noted the approving nod from Saul Hinchcliffe and reflected cynically that this might be just the thing to provide her with an excuse for seeing more of him. “What exactly were your duties at Park House?”
“I went there as a general maid when I was twelve, miss. Later I became a parlourmaid, then personal maid to Mrs Lewis. I did a lot of sewing. Before this – thing – happened, I believe that Mrs Lewis was very satisfied with my work.”
Presumably the girl had also learnt to speak properly in the Lewis household. She seemed to be a sharp little piece and would bear careful watching. Pauline was, however, inclined to believe her story. It had a ring of truth to it, and she liked and trusted Jeremy Lewis as much as she disliked his wife. He had spoken very highly of Annie, said he had known her from a child. It would seem strange to have a pregnant maid around, but it would be worth it. She would need, Pauline thought, smiling to herself, to consult Saul very regularly about Annie’s welfare.
“Very well, then. I am prepared to offer you a position as a general maid. You may also help with the household sewing. When is your baby due?”
“In late September or early October, miss.” Annie kept all expression out of her voice and face.
“In that case, you will leave my service at the beginning of September and return to your family until after the child is born. If you’re able to make arrangements to have it cared for, and if your work has been satisfactory, you may later return to my employment.
“Thank you, miss. I’m very grateful. And – and what about wages?”
Miss Collett frowned. It was, she considered, impertinent to ask this when the girl should just have been thanking providence for a roof over her head. On the other hand, it argued a realistic approach to her situation. “Five pounds a year and all found.”
The old skinflint! thought Annie. Even Mrs Lewis paid more than that. “Thank you, miss,” she said aloud. “When shall I start and how do I get to Netherden?”
“I presume you can start immediately?”
“Oh, yes, miss. I’d prefer to, miss.”
“You may go home now to fetch your box. Meet me here in an hour – if Mr Hinchcliffe will allow me to wait here for you?” She raised an eyebrow enquiringly at her host and he hastened to assure her that he and his home were both entirely at her service. His daily housekeeper was still in the kitchen and would, he was sure, make them both some tea.
Annie curtsied herself out, then walked quickly back to Salem Street. She told Emily what had happened. She would have to borrow Barmy Charlie’s handcart for her box. May agreed sulkily to come with her to the minister’s house and trundle the empty cart back for a halfpenny.
Barmy Charlie opened the door of Number Eight and stood there peering at her. It was funny, but before he’d always seemed very old to her and now she realised that he wasn’t any older than her father. He didn’t seem all that barmy, either, today, just a bit slow.
He smiled at her. “I was sorry to hear about your trouble, lass.”
“Thank you, Mr Ashworth. Can I borrow your handcart? I’ve got myself a job with Miss Collett, and I have to take my things along to Mr Hinchcliffe’s house, so that I can go back with her.”
“Of course you can borrow it! An’ I’ll come with you myself to push the cart and bring it back. That’s what I’ll do. Yes, I will. We should all help one another. We should.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mr Ashworth. Er – it’s sixpence, isn’t it, for borrowing the cart?”
“Nay, I don’t want nothin’ from you, lass. If we can’t help one another when we’re in trouble, it’s a poor lookout, it is that. An’ you’ll have enough other things to pay for. No, I’ll lend you the cart an’ come with you to push it. I will. That’s what I’ll do.”
Tears came to her eyes at this kindness from an unexpected source. “Thank you, Mr Ashworth.”
“An’ if there’s owt else I c’n do, lass, you just let me know. Yes. Let me know. I’ll start looking out for a cradle for the baby. I get ’em sometimes. You’ll need a cradle. An’I’ll find you one. I will.”
She tried to smile at him, but it was a poor effort, she was so touched by this unexpected kindness from a near stranger. “Thank you, Mr Ashworth,” she whispered, close to weeping, then turned to her stepsister. “I shan’t need you after all, May.”
“You promised me a ha’penny. I come out of the warm house for you.”
“So you did. And I’ve said thank you.” She stared at the pale eyes. She liked May less the more she got to know her. Besides, she was glad to save her sixpence ha’penny. She resented spending even a farthing at the moment. Fancy Barmy Charlie being so kind to her! “I’ll be ready in a
few minutes, Mr Ashworth,” she said. “I’m really grateful for your help.”
“It’s a pleasure, lass, a great pleasure. I’d like to help you. I would that.” He stood in the doorway and watched her walk briskly back down the street, sighing. He wished he could help her more. What a pretty lass she was, and kind. She’d never thrown things at him like the other kids had.
It didn’t take Annie long to get her things ready. She could tell that Emily was pleased to see her go. Well, she was pleased to be going. She hated Salem Street.
“Will you tell Dad for me?” she asked.
“Oh, aye,” said Emily. “I’ll tell him. You’ve been lucky, Annie, an’ I hope you show your appreciation to Miss Collett.”
“She’ll have no cause to complain about my work.”
“No. You’re a good worker. I’ll say that for you.”
“And – I’ll be back at the beginning of September.”
“Mmm.” There was no enthusiasm in Emily’s voice.
Annie put two shillings down on the table. “That’s to help out a bit,” she said, knowing that she had to buy Emily’s goodwill from now on. If her stepmother thought that there was money to be had from helping her, she’d not cause any trouble about letting her come back to have the baby.
Emily’s face brightened a little. “Oh, thanks. That’ll be a big help.”
“Well, you are my family, aren’t you?”
Emily nodded and picked up the money, eyes gleaming.
“Is it all right if I come here on my days off?”
“Yes. Yes, that’ll be all right.”
And no doubt she’ll expect a contribution every time, too, thought Annie. “Well, I’ll be going, then.”
“Yes. You look after yourself. I’ll tell your dad what’s happened. He’ll be right glad for you.”
May scowled behind her and stuck out her tongue at Annie. It was a relief to turn round and see Charlie’s smiling face.
Collett Hall was a big grey-stone house on the edge of the moors. It stood squarely on top of a slight rise, as if defying the elements to do their worst. Rain lashed against it, the wind screamed against the window-panes and all around were stunted, wind-bent trees. Annie, perched on the outside of Miss Collett’s carriage, was soaked to the skin and shivering by the time they got there. Even Mrs Lewis had let her ride inside. This didn’t bode well.
The coachman beside her was a dour old man and not inclined to gossip, so she’d found out very little, either about her new employer or about the household. She didn’t fancy the job. She was sure that Miss Collett would be a hard taskmistress. Well, beggars can’t be choosers, she told herself, gritting her chattering teeth. At least it’d get her out of Salem Street and keep her fed until the baby was nearly due. And she’d be able to add a bit to her savings, too. She was lucky, really. But she didn’t feel lucky at the moment, just cold and alone.
She followed Miss Collett into the house and was kept waiting in the entrance hall in her wet things until her mistress had changed and had a cup of tea. She tried not to shiver, but she was so very cold.
At last a plump maid came up to her. “You’re wanted in the parlour,” she said. She showed Annie where to go, then left.
There was another woman with Miss Collett, who turned out to be the housekeeper.
“I’ve told Mrs Marsh your story,” Miss Collett said. “I shall expect you to work hard and to give satisfaction, Annie. You’re not to gossip about your condition. Mrs Marsh will tell the other servants all they need to know and then it need not be mentioned again. Is that clear?”
“Yes, miss.”
“That’s all.”
Still shivering, Annie followed Mrs Marsh to the housekeeper’s sitting-room. Here she was at last allowed to warm herself by a fire and was given a cup of tea. Mrs Marsh questioned her carefully about what she had done at Park House and seemed pleased by her answers.
“I’ll put you to work with Rose,” she said at last. “She’ll show you what to do. Miss Collett wants the whole house spring-cleaned, so we’ll be glad of another pair of hands. Later on, when you’re getting a bit big for heavy work, we’ll give you some sewing to do. There’s plenty of that, too. Now, if you’ll take my advice, Annie, you’ll remember exactly what the mistress said and not gossip about your condition. She doesn’t like to be disobeyed in any way. She’s very strict about that.”
“Yes, Mrs Marsh.”
Annie hated life at Collett Hall from the start. The house itself made her uneasy. It was dark, even on a sunny day, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if it’d been haunted, except that no ghost would have dared to intrude uninvited on Pauline Collett. The wind was for ever sighing and moaning round the house, too, which unsettled town-bred Annie. She wasn’t used to such bleak, open spaces. She decided that she preferred even the Rows to this – though not Emily’s house, of course.
The other staff treated her like an animal which might bite. They were not actively hostile or unfriendly, but they kept their distance. There were ten indoor servants, all female, ruled fairly, but with a rod of iron, by Mrs Marsh, who was in turn ruled by Miss Collett. They worked from five in the morning until eight or nine at night, with an hour’s break during the afternoon, and were then allowed to sit around the fire in the servants’ hall until ten o’clock, when they must go to bed. These were better conditions than many employers offered, but Annie found herself so tired at nights that more often than not she went straight to bed after her work was finished.
From Rose, who was nearly forty and who had worked for the Colletts all her life, Annie learned a little about The Family, of whom Rose spoke in tones of awe. Old Mrs Collett had died when the mistress was fifteen and Miss Pauline had taken over the housekeeping straight away. She was clever, was Miss Pauline. You should see the books she read and the newspapers that came for her from London.
Rose never mentioned Annie’s condition, nor did the other servants. Miss Collett had forbidden it, so they didn’t even whisper about it when they were on their own. They were like a bunch of silly sheep, thought Annie, and Miss Collett the shepherd.
On the second Sunday after her arrival there, Annie was told to get ready for chapel. Miss Collett would take her into Bilsden to the service and then she could have two hours with her family. Annie guessed that she was to be shown off to Mr Hinchcliffe and the Ladies’ Charity Committee, who met each week. She didn’t mind too much. It’d give her a bit of a rest and she’d like to see her dad. She hoped it wouldn’t rain, though. Her only worry was that she’d have to see Matt at chapel, and she wished, she wished very desperately, that she need never see him again.
Matt had been relieved when Annie got a job and left the street. Her pale unhappy face was a reminder of things he would rather forget and it seemed to loom at him accusingly wherever he went. His mother had said he should ask for his money back now Annie had a job, but he wouldn’t. Giving it had eased his conscience a little. He’d told his mother to mind her own business and had refused to talk about it any more. These days he didn’t discuss many things with his parents.
Sam grieved over this distance between them and prayed hard for guidance from the Lord, but he could make no headway with his stubborn son, who remained polite, but uncommunicative.
Mr Hinchcliffe had had a word with Matt, and with him Matt was a bit more open. He was not proud of himself, he agreed, but he couldn’t marry Annie now. He just couldn’t have brought himself to touch her. No, he knew it was not her fault, but that didn’t make any difference to how he felt. There were things you could do and things you couldn’t do. Marrying Annie was something he couldn’t do any more. He was going to concentrate on his work from now on; he would study a lot and leave women alone until he was much older.
It came as an unpleasant surprise to Matt, therefore, that Sunday, when Annie walked into chapel behind Miss Collett and quietly joined her parents at the rear. He couldn’t help gasping aloud when he saw her and then he could feel himself goin
g red. He had felt guilty every time he had seen her in the street, but he felt worse here in the Lord’s house.
Annie’s eyes swept coolly across his face, but she gave no sign of even recognising him. She did, however, smile in genuine pleasure when she saw that Ellie was there. She’d forgotten that it was Ellie’s Sunday off. Ellie beamed back at her.
After the service, Annie waited until Miss Collett nodded dismissal, then went off with her parents. She had two whole hours free. As they passed the Peters family, she smiled at Ellie, who called out that she’d meet her in an hour’s time, ignoring the nudge her mother gave her.
In Number Three, John treated Annie like an honoured guest, to Emily’s disgust. He sat her down with him in front of the fire and wanted to know all about her new place. “I was fair set up when our Em’ly told me you’d got a place,” he said. “It was a good idea of Em’ly’s, goin’ to see Mr Hinchcliffe, wasn’t it? She’s a good woman, she is.” It wasn’t clear whether he meant Emily or Miss Collett, but Emily was smirking by this time.
“Yes. I’m very grateful to you, Emily.” Annie picked up her basket. “Mrs Marsh, the housekeeper, gave me some food to bring home. She’s all right, is Mrs Marsh, as long as you do your job.”
“There now. Fancy that!” said John. “You just be sure to thank her kindly from us.” Once he would have scorned to take charity, she thought sadly.
Emily unpacked the basket, eyes glistening. She added the loaf from it to the stuff on the table. The packet of tea she put carefully to one side, together with the generous wedge of cheese and the bag of somewhat withered apples.
“You’ve fallen on your feet there,” she said to Annie. “Don’t you do anythin’ to upset that Miss Collett – or the ’ousekeeper. You don’t want to lose this place!”
“No, I’ll be careful,” said Annie wearily, not bothering to point out that it hadn’t been her fault that she had lost her other place.
