The Downstairs Maid

by Rosie Clarke

  Lizzie wouldn’t have given in so tamely if she’d been engaged to Sir Arthur. She’d been at the bottom of the stairs the day he left Papa’s study after telling Amy that he was withdrawing for her sake.

  ‘Forgive me, Amy,’ he’d told her, with Lizzie listening outside the door. ‘If I allowed you to continue in this marriage, you would be tainted with the scandal. I care for you too much to allow – and until I clear my name I shall not marry.’

  Lizzie thought Amy had accepted his withdrawal all too easily. She would have wept and begged him to run away with her, but Amy didn’t love him. She’d accepted his proposal because of his money and the position she would have in society.

  As far as Lizzie could make out, Arthur wasn’t exactly broke, though he’d lost a lot of money. The worst of it was that he was being labelled a cheat and a scoundrel. The papers had written articles claiming that he’d known what he was doing when he floated the shares and until he could prove that he was as much a victim as the other shareholders, he would not be accepted in the circles Amy chose to move in.

  Lizzie’s heart ached for Arthur. She still thought he was wonderful, though he’d never done more than smile in her direction or ask her how she was. Now, left here at the manor while her sister was in London, with time on her hands and a feeling of heavy gloom hanging over everyone, she felt as if she would die of boredom.

  It must be fresher out in the gardens surely? Lizzie decided to go for a walk. If she had to stay in the house another minute she would scream.

  Leaving the parlour where she’d been sitting alone for the best part of the afternoon, she went out through the French windows and walked through the rose garden. As she disappeared into the shrubbery, she thought she heard her mother’s voice calling her but ignored it. She was going to have a few hours of freedom even if she paid for it later.

  It was much cooler in the fields, warm but with a pleasant breeze. Lizzie hadn’t bothered with a hat or coat and the wind tugged at her long hair, blowing it about her face. The earth was dry and hard beneath her feet and she could feel stones pressing into the thin soles of her smart leather shoes. When she reached the freedom of the fields she ran and ran until she was out of breath, then flopped down on the grass and stretched her arms out behind her, lifting her face to the sun. Its warmth would probably give her freckles and Mama would complain that no lady allowed the sun to touch her face, but the feeling was wonderful and Lizzie had reached the point where she needed to rebel.

  ‘Enjoying the sun then, Miss Barton?’

  Lizzie opened her eyes and looked up at the man who had spoken. For a moment she didn’t know him, because the last time she’d seen him he’d been dressed as a farmer with a tweed jacket and long boots. Now he was wearing what looked like a soldier’s uniform, though only the trousers and the boots, with his shirt open at the neck. He must have taken off his cap and jacket somewhere, perhaps because it was so hot.

  ‘Are you a soldier now?’ she asked, trying to remember his name but unable to recall it.

  He hesitated for a moment, and then inclined his head. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘I joined up to fight for King and Country same as all the other poor suckers.’

  Lizzie looked at him doubtfully. ‘I think all those men who joined the army are very brave.’

  ‘I dare say you do, miss,’ he said. ‘It’s the bloody stupid government I object to – sending half-trained men out there like lambs to the slaughter. Half of them don’t know one end of a gun from the other.’

  ‘Do you?’ Lizzie asked innocently.

  ‘I’ve been shooting game all my life,’ he said and sat down next to her on the grass. ‘You don’t remember me – do you?’

  ‘I think we spoke once but then my brother came along …’

  ‘Name’s Derek,’ he told her and smiled in a way that made Lizzie’s heart jump with excitement. ‘Your name is Elizabeth, isn’t it?’

  ‘Everyone calls me Lizzie …’ She looked at him shyly. It was exciting to be close to him. He was so different to her brothers … more physical and sensual. The word popped into Lizzie’s head, though it wasn’t one she would normally have used. But his mouth fascinated her and as he leaned in closer, she knew he was going to kiss her and her heart stopped for one second before racing on. His lips brushed hers lightly but she was suddenly breathless, excited but also a little scared. ‘I don’t think you should have done that …’

  ‘I probably shouldn’t,’ Derek said, ‘but it was lovely.’ He reached out and picked a blade of long grass, chewing the end. ‘You didn’t mind, did you?’

  ‘No …’ Lizzie admitted truthfully. ‘But I’d better go now.’

  ‘All right. I’ll just sit here and admire the view – but you run off home like a good girl.’

  His words stung her. She jumped to her feet and began to walk away. If Mama knew she’d let a soldier kiss her there would be trouble, and yet she would have liked to sit there with Derek and let him kiss her again. Glancing back, she saw that he was watching her and lifted her hand to wave. He grinned but didn’t wave back.

  Lizzie’s heart pounded. What would have happened if she’d stayed?

  Chapter 24

  The London house was in a fashionable garden square and looked imposing, a brass knocker gleaming on the blue-painted door. Although it had a small frontage, there were three storeys plus the attics above and it extended out a long way at the back. The mews in the street at the back had once been used for keeping horses, but like others nearby it had recently been converted into living accommodation over a garage.

  Emily followed the others round to the back and was invited into what she soon learned was the servants’ hall. Mrs Jenkins, the housekeeper, was a small woman, thin and wiry and very different from Mrs Hattersley. Her husband seemed very conscious of himself and tried to impress on Emily that the situation at the house was not at all what he was used to.

  ‘We need more staff here if his lordship and the family intend to stay long. Years ago we should have had at least three footmen and half a dozen maids, besides her ladyship’s dresser, a cook and the various underlings.’

  ‘Things are difficult,’ Mr Payne pacified him. ‘We’re here to help, Jenkins – and both Tomas and Emily are very willing to do their bit. Emily has been a big help to Mrs Hattersley at the manor.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure Mrs Jenkins will be happy to have her,’ he said, slightly mollified. ‘Rene will show you to your room, Emily, and also the situation of Miss Amy’s rooms. You can unpack her things and then come down. There’s a great deal to do if we are to be ready for the family’s arrival tomorrow. The last tenants brought their own servants and I was not satisfied with their work. I hope you will do better.’

  ‘I shall try, Mr Jenkins,’ Emily glanced at the maid who was waiting to take her up. ‘I can carry my own bag, Tomas. If Rene will show me the way I’ll be ready to start work in a few minutes.’

  Rene led the way up the back stairs. ‘You don’t want to take notice of old Grumbleboots,’ she said with a cheeky look at Emily. ‘He hates it when the house is left empty and thinks we should go back to the old days when it was kept just for the family.’

  ‘Have you been here long?’

  ‘Six months. I’m thinking I might leave soon. There’s plenty of work going now – but my mother doesn’t want me working in a factory. I might join one of those voluntary services, though. Ma says it would be much harder work but I’d be doing something worthwhile.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose you would, but they would miss you here – and you might need a job after the war.’

  ‘I’ll be married before then,’ Rene said and winked at her. ‘My lad’s off training to be a soldier at the moment, but when he comes back on leave we’ll tie the knot.’

  ‘Mary says the same thing.’

  ‘Oh, Mary,’ the girl said. ‘I’ve heard about her. Sally says she’s a mean bitch. I’m glad they didn’t send her.’

  ‘Is Sally the other mai
d here? How does she know Mary?’

  ‘She worked at the manor for a few months last summer. They were short of staff and the house was let to some Americans. She was mad as fire because they give much bigger tips than the English families who hire the house.’

  ‘I’ve never been tipped.’

  ‘Maybe Mary doesn’t share with you. Me and Sally always share – but it’s the Americans that give the most.’

  Emily let the other girl chatter on. She considered she was lucky to have her job and she’d just been given a rise but thought it might be best not to mention it.

  ‘Here’s your room; it’s next to mine,’ Rene said, throwing open a door for her. ‘You’ll find Miss Amy’s room on the landing below this. She’s the third one along on the right. I’ll leave you to get yourself straight. Don’t forget to come down as soon as you’ve unpacked.’

  Emily assured her she wouldn’t forget. Her room was smaller than she was used to at the manor and the furnishings very basic and plain. She’d made her room there nice by putting her own bits and pieces on the shelves, but here there was nothing but the bed, a single wardrobe, a chair and a chest by her bed.

  Mrs Marsh certainly hadn’t been joking when she’d told Emily that going to London wasn’t to be a pleasure trip. Emily was expected to work and work hard. Yet she’d felt excited by her first glimpses of London and she couldn’t wait until she got a chance to explore.

  ‘It’s your night off tonight, isn’t it?’ Tomas asked some days later, as he came into the kitchen bearing a tray loaded with dirty dishes. ‘Rene said she was looking after Miss Amy because you were due a free period.’

  ‘I’ve hardly stopped since we got here.’ Emily eyed the loaded tray knowing that she would be expected to wash the dishes because both Sally and Rene were upstairs serving the guests the family had invited to lunch. ‘I’m almost too tired to go out.’

  ‘I’ve arranged to take my time off as well. I could take you to the pictures – or a music hall. It would be better than you going off alone. You might get lost.’

  ‘I did have a couple of hours off last week and I took a tram to look at the shops, but Rene was free too so we went together.’ She hesitated, and then smiled. ‘Yes, I should like to visit the music hall with you, if that’s all right.’

  ‘It’s your choice. It was a Keystone Cops picture but I like the music hall and where we live we don’t get a chance to go most of the time.’

  Emily poured hot water from the kettle into the sink and plunged the dishes in to soak. She rolled up her sleeves and started to wash them, putting them out on the wooden drainer. Tomas picked up a cloth and began to dry them. It wasn’t his job and she was grateful to him.

  ‘I’ve never been to a music hall. I know about Harry Lauder, Marie Lloyd, Vesta Tilley and Harry Champion of course, but there are lots of artists I’ve never heard of.’

  ‘One of my favourites is George Robey. He’s the Prime Minister of Comedy. When he tells everyone to stop laughing they just laugh all the harder. I’ve heard he’s signing up to entertain the troops.’

  ‘I love Harry Champion’s songs – I’m Henery the Eighth I am. He is just so funny. We saw a clip of him on the Pathé news.’ Emily put on a cockney accent and did a little dance, as she’d once seen the great performer do on the Pathé news at the cinema.

  ‘It’s the first time we’ve had a chance to go out together, Emily. You always seemed busy on your days off at the manor.’

  ‘I went home or into Ely to see someone.’

  Tomas nodded. ‘Is Christopher Johnson your bloke?’

  ‘He’s a good friend. Ma closed the shop but I think Christopher had joined the army anyway. I’d thought I would have had a letter from him before this – but it may be waiting for me at the manor.’

  Tomas didn’t answer but went off whistling. Emily finished her work, feeling thoughtful. Christopher had seemed keen on her when they went out together once or twice, but then, Harry had kissed her and she’d believed he might ask her to marry him. She wasn’t sure where she stood with Christopher and there was no harm in going for a night out with the friendly footman.

  She had no intention of getting married for ages, but it was better to go out with a friend than alone, especially in London. Emily didn’t know her way about much yet and left to herself she would probably have gone to bed with a book.

  ‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ Tomas asked as they left the theatre later that evening. ‘I think it was a good show. Everyone was very jingoistic of course, singing all the marching songs, but that’s to be expected.’

  People were streaming out on to the street. Everyone was laughing and talking, because they’d all enjoyed the show and some of them were singing the songs they’d heard on stage.

  ‘Vesta Tilley singing The Army of Today’s all Right was wonderful. You didn’t sing many of them,’ Emily said and looked up at him, suddenly sensing his mood and guessing what might be behind it. ‘You shouldn’t feel bad because a few silly people looked at you oddly this evening.’

  ‘Do you know what these are?’ Tomas thrust his hand into his pocket and then showed her two white feathers.

  ‘White feathers?’ Emily was puzzled. ‘Is that someone’s idea of a joke?’

  ‘They were given to me by women whose husbands and sons were in the army. I was told I should be ashamed of myself.’

  ‘Oh, Tomas, I’m so sorry,’ Emily said. Her heart went out to him. Tomas was no coward and it was unfair for people who didn’t know him to brand him as such just because he hadn’t joined up immediately. Some people had objections to fighting and it wouldn’t suit everyone to be a soldier. She didn’t think less of him because he’d waited to put down his name. After all, he was needed at the manor.

  ‘After the defeat at Mons the government is calling for more men to join up. It was a bloodbath, Emily. If things continue this way they will want every man who can stand up and hold a gun.’

  ‘Does it mean you will have to join up?’

  ‘Not yet. At the moment they’re still asking for volunteers – but it’s only a matter of time before they start conscription; that’s what I’ve heard anyway.’ He hesitated, then, ‘I’ll fight if I have to but I just didn’t see the point of rushing off as soon as war was declared.’

  Suddenly, the noise of the people leaving pubs and theatres seemed unnecessary and she felt uncomfortable for having enjoyed herself when men were fighting and dying in France. For all she knew Christopher was out there even now and might be in danger. Her eyes stung with tears and she sniffed hard. Tomas smiled down at her.

  ‘Don’t cry, Emily love. This was supposed to be a nice evening out.’

  ‘It isn’t your fault,’ she said and took the handkerchief he offered, blowing her nose and wiping her cheeks. ‘Thinking about those poor men who were wounded upsets me. I can’t help thinking about Pa and wondering why he had to die like that; it was so sudden.’

  ‘It’s the way things happen sometimes.’

  ‘Yes.’ She tucked her arm through his. ‘You paid for the theatre so I’ll buy us a pie and chips to eat on the way home – is that fair?’

  ‘Very fair,’ Tomas said and squeezed her arm. ‘You’ll be my girl yet, Emily Carter. You’ll see. I’ll get you in the end.’

  Emily had to smile. She didn’t think Tomas was in love with her, despite his flirting. He just enjoyed teasing her and she didn’t mind that, providing he didn’t become serious.

  Chapter 25

  ‘I’m so glad you were given leave and chose to spend it with me,’ Amy said, looking fondly at her brother across the restaurant table. It was a busy, expensive place with crisp white linen, good china and excellent service. ‘Lizzie will be so disappointed when she realises she has missed having lunch with you.’

  ‘I adore Lizzie; she’s a darling, but sometimes it’s nice to talk to you alone, Amy. How are you enjoying your visit to town?’ Nicolas asked.

  ‘Very much. I’ve been to lots of mee
tings and visited some friends.’

  ‘You’ll be going home to the manor in a few days?’

  ‘Yes, unless I’m asked to join a voluntary association in London. If I were stationed here it would be wonderful. There are so many things I should like to do – including some that Papa might not approve of.’

  ‘Like what?’ He raised his brows at her. ‘I am your brother, Miss Barton. I hope you’re not thinking of doing anything I wouldn’t do – and some things I would?’

  Amy’s laughter rang out, because her brother was such a tease. If only she could find a man who amused her and made her laugh the way Nicolas did she would be happy to marry. For a moment she thought of Sir Arthur and the look in his eyes when he’d withdrawn his offer of marriage. Had he hoped she would refuse and declare that she would marry him whatever the scandal?

  Amy had found the interview more painful than she could have imagined, because she truly liked him, but her father had been adamant that she must break it off and Arthur had done the decent thing by stepping back. Yet she’d regretted it so much, missing his company and the luxury of being adored and given expensive gifts. She’d missed being taken out and treated like a princess. Marriage to Arthur would have been very comfortable and yet there had been a part of her that had felt relief.

  In answer to her brother’s question, she said, ‘I don’t want to get stuck on the society treadmill. I was thinking of visiting museums, shops, parks and gardens, the theatre – and perhaps a Suffragette meeting. I know they’ve stopped making trouble for the duration of the war, but they still meet, though now, it’s to discuss how they can help the war effort.’

  Nicolas looked as if he agreed and changed the subject, telling her about his training for the RFC. Caught by his enthusiasm, it was a while before Amy realised that someone was staring at them hard from two tables away.

  He was dressed with a sartorial elegance that made him stand out from every other man in the room, his clothes suitable for town but with a rakish air that made her think he would look his best dressed for riding. His hair was very dark, his complexion touched with olive tones and his eyes such a dark brown that they looked black with just a hint of silver in their depths. His mouth was wide and sensual – and she was staring too much.