Heir to Greyladies

by Anna Jacobs

  Winifred nodded towards the girl. ‘It’s my stepdaughter. Norris is after her. She doesn’t encourage him, I’ll grant her that, but I can’t trust him to leave her alone if we keep living in the same house. He’s as bad as his father.’

  ‘Is that how she got the bruises?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He’s rough with it, then.’

  She shrugged. ‘He’s a Harding. But he’s got my blood in him too, so I’m hoping to teach him some self-control.’

  ‘Hmm. Why did you bring her to me?’

  ‘I can’t keep her at home but I can’t just turn her out on the street. I thought … I hoped you might help her get a place in service. She’s done well at school, won a scholarship to St Mary’s, but of course I can’t afford to send her there.’

  ‘Oh? I’d heard you were left comfortably off.’

  ‘And I’ll need that money for my old age, won’t I? You’re not the only one who thinks ahead. I’m definitely not getting married again. That’s two good providers who’ve died on me now.’ She waited. ‘Well? Will you do it, Auntie Doris? Find her a place in service?’

  The old woman turned to Harriet. ‘What have you got to say about this, girl?’

  ‘I don’t know what to say. It’s the first I’ve heard about it.’

  Doris let out a spurt of rusty laughter. ‘That’s our Winifred. Good at organising other folk, whether they want it or not.’

  Harriet took a sudden decision. ‘I think she’s right about one thing, though. I can’t stay there. Norris will find a way to trap me if I do, whatever she tells him.’

  ‘Are you a hard worker?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘Pity about the scholarship, but there you are. Life doesn’t let you have everything you want.’ She kept them waiting a minute or two longer, then said, ‘All right. But she’ll need an outfit if you want her to get a better sort of job, Winifred. A job that pays more money.’

  Winifred scowled at her. ‘You’ve told me about maids’ outfits before. All those clothes! Who needs that many? No, it’ll cost too much. Just find her a job as a general maid.’

  Doris folded her arms. ‘I don’t deal with that sort of family. If I take her off your hands, it’ll be a big country house she works in. Besides, she’ll soon make up the cost of an outfit. She’ll earn double what she’d make as a general skivvy to some backstreet grocer.’

  Winifred looked at her uncertainly. ‘Double?’

  ‘Yes. And it’ll put those snooty neighbours on your side if they see you treating her well.’ Doris hid a smile. She knew how it galled Winifred that her late husband’s neighbours would hardly give her the time of day. You’d almost think they knew about Winifred’s mother, but the family had been very careful to keep that disgrace secret.

  ‘Do you really think it’ll soften them up?’

  ‘I’m certain of it.’

  ‘Might be worth it, then, because I’m not moving house. James bought it with the insurance money from his wife dying so sudden.’ Another pause, then, ‘You’re sure she’ll earn more?’

  ‘Certain. Double. One other thing. If I do this, I get her first quarter’s wages.’ She looked challengingly at Winifred as she said that.

  ‘Trust you to demand a share. You always were on the lookout for money.’

  ‘Takes one to recognise one.’

  ‘And after the first quarter, all her wages come to me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Very well, then.’ She turned to Harriet. ‘I’ll want you to write to that nosy parker next door and tell her how well you’re set up, thanks to me. I’ll have your promise on that before we go any further.’

  ‘But I won’t be well set up if I don’t get paid any money at all,’ Harriet said indignantly.

  Winifred glared at her.

  Doris intervened. ‘You’ll escape from Norris once and for all, young lady. And you’ll be well trained, able to earn a good living. Be grateful for that. They feed you really well in the big houses and there’s always company. Your turn to get the money you earn will come later. Give Winifred your promise or you can go home this minute.’

  Harriet gave in because the thought of living with Norris again made her feel sick. ‘I promise I’ll write to Mrs Leigh.’

  Winifred stood up. ‘Right, then. I’ll be getting back.’

  Doris held up her hand ‘Just a minute. What about her keep while she’s with me?’

  Winifred breathed deeply but stayed where she was. ‘How much?’

  ‘A shilling a day for training and feeding her. Paid weekly, in advance.’

  She fumbled in her purse and slapped two half-crown pieces and a florin down on the kitchen table. ‘There. Seven shillings for this week.’

  ‘More to come next Friday or I bring her straight back to you.’

  Sighing loudly, Winifred nodded.

  Doris escorted her great niece to the door, where they muttered for a moment or two, then she came back to the kitchen, where Harriet was sitting in her chair, her whole body drooping. ‘You’ve had your first lesson today, my girl.’

  ‘I don’t understand what you mean.’

  ‘Make sure you get some benefit when you do someone a favour. I retired from being housekeeper at Dalton House. The family give you a small pension if you work for them for over twenty years, but I had enough money saved as well to see me out in comfort. And why did I have that money behind me? Because I made sure I was paid for everything extra I did. Because I saved my money, didn’t waste a penny of it.’

  ‘I won’t have any money to save if she takes it all.’

  Doris shrugged. ‘One day you’ll get your wages. Parents usually take young maids’ money, you know.’

  ‘She isn’t my mother, though.’

  ‘She’s the nearest you’ve got now, and she’s doing you a favour with this. You’ll understand that one day.’

  She waited for her words to sink in, then continued, ‘Just make sure you follow my advice. Once you’re twenty-one, things will change completely. And by the time you’re eighteen you can ask for a share of your wages, because by then you’ll have enough experience to get another job if they don’t agree. Though I think they will. The Daltons are very decent with those they employ.’

  She grinned. ‘Don’t tell Winifred I told you how to get out of this later, but fair’s fair. Just make sure you prove yourself a good worker, so they’ll want to keep you on.’

  ‘But I won’t be twenty-one for another five years!’

  ‘I thought Winifred said you were fifteen. It’ll be longer than that.’

  ‘I’ll be sixteen soon.’

  ‘Hmm. You look younger.’ She studied the girl. Though she was quite tall, Harriet had a child’s innocence on her face still, and an unhappy child at that. ‘Five years isn’t long. It’ll soon pass. Now, let me show you your room.’

  Doris heard the girl cry herself to sleep and felt an unexpected surge of sympathy. Not enough to get her out of bed to comfort her young visitor, though.

  When Harriet woke, it was fully light and later than usual for her, after the weeks at the bakery. Afraid she’d be in trouble for sleeping in, she got up and washed quickly in the cold water from the ewer, then dressed and hurried downstairs, taking her slop bowl with her.

  There was no one in the kitchen and the fire wasn’t lit, so Mrs Miller wasn’t up yet, thank goodness.

  First things first. She needed to empty the slop bowl and go to the lavatory, which was down at the back of the house, past the scullery and coal store. It was inside, not at the end of the yard, which seemed a great luxury on a rainy morning.

  When she’d taken her slop bowl back to her bedroom, she decided to light the fire, hoping that would please the old lady. She found a hessian pinafore hanging on the wall next to the coal store, and put that on to clean out the grate. Soon, the fire was burning brightly.

  Afterwards she washed her hands and made sure there was water in the kettle before pushing it over the hotte
st part of the stove top.

  She turned as she heard footsteps on the stairs.

  Mrs Miller came into the kitchen, moving slowly and stiffly. She was wearing a long woollen dressing gown, with her white hair hanging down her back in a thin plait. ‘Good. You had the wit to get the fire going.’ She went across to hold her hands out to its warmth.

  They were gnarled hands, Harriet noticed, hands that had worked hard. Still worked hard, judging by how clean everything was here. She waited, clasping her own hands in front of her.

  Mrs Miller sat down at the kitchen table. ‘Cup of tea first. You can make it for us. Use my ordinary tea in the red tea caddy. I’ll tell you how I like it.’

  There followed what Harriet soon realised was a lesson in the correct way to do things. And she had to admit that the tea tasted better than any other she’d had. As she set her empty cup down, she realised Mrs Miller was studying her once again.

  The old woman repeated what Winifred had said, ‘You’re definitely going to be pretty when you grow up. You’re like a colt at the moment, all legs and arms, with just a few curves starting. Did you want to go to that fancy school?’

  Harriet nodded. ‘Oh, yes. I like learning things. I was going to be a teacher.’

  ‘Well, that chance has gone now, but you can still educate yourself. Anyone can read books these days. They’re all over the place, not like when I was a girl. I use the public library and I buy cheap books from the market sometimes.’

  It wasn’t the same to read books as it would have been to be taught by well-educated people, Harriet thought sadly. She always had questions to ask about what she’d read. But it was no use protesting.

  ‘Here’s what we’re going to do, young lady. I’ll give you a few lessons in how to look after a house properly – there’s a big difference between that and what most folk call housework – and if you show promise during this first week with me, I’ll write to someone I know, to see if she can help you find a place. Mrs Stuart is the housekeeper now at Dalton House, took over from me. I trained her and she’ll trust you if I vouch for you.’

  ‘How can you vouch for me if you’ve only just met me?’

  Mrs Miller laughed, a rusty sound as if she didn’t do it often. ‘I’ve trained a lot of girls. I can tell within the hour whether they’re worth the bother or not. If you will only set your mind to it, you’ll be well worth training.’

  That thought warmed Harriet. ‘I will do my best, I promise you. Where’s Dalton House?’

  ‘Near Reading.’

  ‘How far away is that?’

  Mrs Miller gave her a knowing smile. ‘Far enough for your purpose. Norris won’t find it easy to get to you there.’ She waited. ‘Well, is that a bargain?’

  Harriet hesitated. ‘Do you and Winifred have to take all my wages? I’ll need to buy more clothes and underwear. I’m still growing in … places.’ She could feel herself blushing.

  Mrs Miller pursed her lips. ‘Yes. I suppose you will need something.’

  ‘Winifred won’t let me keep any money at all.’

  ‘No. She’s greedy, Winifred is. Always was. Doesn’t know when to stop grabbing. That puts people’s backs up. So we’ll not tell her exactly how much you’re getting and we’ll leave you a shilling a week of your own.’ Mrs Miller tapped her nose. ‘What she doesn’t know won’t upset her.’

  ‘It’s still not much.’

  ‘It’ll be enough if you’re careful. In a house like that you’ll get tips now and then from guests. All the general tips go into a pot and even the youngest gets a share of those every quarter, plus a few shillings extra at Christmas. Now, let’s have our breakfast. I like two slices of toast with jam, but I daresay a growing girl like you will want more.’

  ‘I do get a bit hungry. Sorry.’

  ‘There’s plenty of bread and some apples as well. I like a nice juicy apple.’

  Once they’d eaten and cleared up the kitchen, Mrs Miller said, ‘We’ll go upstairs and I’ll show you how to make the beds properly. You’ve just dragged the covers over yours. Slovenly, that is. Then you can show me your clothes.’

  ‘They’re not very nice and I haven’t got a lot of stuff.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter because we’ll make a list and I’ll get the money from Winifred to buy what’s needed. After that, you should learn to make your own clothes. It’s much cheaper.’

  ‘The teacher at school said I’m not very good at sewing.’

  ‘How hard did you try?’

  Harriet wriggled uncomfortably. ‘Not very. It’s not very interesting, sewing.’

  ‘No, but it comes in useful. So that’s another thing you’ll need to learn properly. You should start making a list.’

  ‘How can I learn to sew better if I’m working as a maid?’

  ‘There’ll be somebody to help you at Dalton House. All the girls sew. Most of them make their own clothes. Some make stuff for their bottom drawer, others like to embroider. The family used to have a sewing and mending woman come to the house one day a week, probably still do. Make friends with her and ask her help. If she’s willing to teach you, ask the housekeeper to make time for you to learn. She won’t say no, because you’ll be able to do simple mending for them then.’ She waited. ‘Well, is that agreed?’

  ‘Yes. And thank you for helping me, Mrs Miller. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’ She shivered.

  The old woman snorted. ‘I’m no saint. I’m earning good money from helping you. Mind you, that said, I’d definitely rather do good than evil in this world. Makes life pleasanter all round.’

  By the time Harriet went to bed that night, her head was full of new ways of doing things, new ways of looking at the world, and if she’d heard the word ‘properly’ once, she’d heard it a hundred times. Still, the day had flown by, at least.

  Mrs Miller said you should learn anything you could, whether you liked doing it or not, whether you thought you’d need it or not. That made sense.

  And though he was in the same town, there had been no sign of Norris prowling round this house. Harriet had looked out of the window to check several times after he’d have stopped work for the day. You couldn’t be too careful.

  She thought Mrs Miller had noticed what she was doing, but the old lady hadn’t commented. Mrs Miller seemed to notice everything. She was all right, though, under that sharp way of talking. Kind, even.

  Strange to think she was a relative of Winifred. They were like chalk and cheese. Winifred was a horrible woman and Harriet hoped she’d never see her again as long as she lived.

  Norris sat scowling into the fire, slippered feet resting on the fender.

  ‘You’re a fool,’ his mother said suddenly.

  ‘I’m a man, with a man’s needs. You can’t turn me back into a lad.’

  ‘Well, men who have a bit of sense in their heads don’t mess in their own backyard.’

  ‘Harriet’s been egging me on.’

  Winifred slammed her hand down on the arm of her chair. ‘Let that be the last time you lie to me about that.’

  Their eyes met and he was the first to look away.

  ‘Harriet has not been egging you on. She’s young for her age, won’t be ready for a man for a year or two yet, if I’m any judge. Comes of all that damned book learning.’

  ‘I’m going to have her one day.’

  ‘Then you’re an even bigger fool than I thought. She’ll never want you after what you did to her. Now, enough of your sulking. Help me make a list of what we can sell. I’m not keeping James’s things, but I’m not giving them away, either. Those damned horse brasses will be the first to go.’

  ‘Why don’t we take a casual stall at the market? We’ll get more money for them that way, even after paying for hiring a stall.’

  ‘I thought about that, but if we do, these snooty neighbours will notice and gossip. We’re keeping our noses clean from now on, you an’ me, my lad. We’re going up in the world and appearances matter. Not that it wasn
’t a good idea to take a stall, and I’m glad to see you have some brains in your head.’

  ‘I am your son.’

  ‘Yes. But you’re your father’s son, too, and that’s the half that worries me.’

  Norris let her organise the evening and mostly kept his mouth shut, but he’d meant what he said about Harriet. No lass was going to get the better of him, not now and not in the future. Besides, he wanted her. There was something about her that he had to have.

  But for the time being, his mother held all the power, because she had the money. She also had the wit to keep the money safe and see the future more clearly than he’d done so far. It had made him think when he found her bank book and saw how much she had saved.

  Norris was fed up of his stinking job, wished he’d worked harder at school and got a better one. His mother wasn’t the only one with a desire to improve her life. He intended to look around for something else, but he was going to make sure this time he found a job that suited him.

  His mother had done well for someone who’d grown up in the slums.

  Norris intended to watch her more carefully and learn how she did it.

  Doris was very scornful of Harriet’s clothes. She picked through them, holding them as if they were full of fleas or lice.

  ‘They’re not dirty,’ Harriet protested. ‘I keep myself clean.’

  ‘They might as well be dirty, such ugly, lumpy, cheap things. I bet the dye runs when you wash them. Yes, I thought so. You won’t do me any credit wearing those.’

  ‘Winifred won’t spend much money on me, you know.’

  ‘She’ll spend what I tell her. There’s some writing paper in the top drawer of the bureau. Fetch it here, and my pen too. I’ll write her a note, then we’ll make our list.’

  She sat chewing the end of her pen, then dipped it into the ink and began to write.

  ‘You have lovely handwriting,’ Harriet said.

  Doris smiled down at the page. ‘Shows a lot about the writer, good handwriting does. What’s yours like?’

  ‘Not bad. I got top marks for penmanship at school.’

  Doris shoved a piece of torn paper at her and selected another pen from the box. ‘Show me. Write a few sentences.’