‘Would you like me to find one for you?’ Jane offered, thinking of Mother Hardcastle.
There was such relief on Lizzie Hudson’s face it was pitiful to see it. ‘Oh, I would. I would.’
‘I’ll write this very afternoon,’ Jane reassured her, ‘and I’ll ask her to attend on you just as soon as she can. Don’t fret, ma’am. She’s a gossip but she’s allus kindly.’ But even as the words were in her mouth she was thinking how foolish she was being. Now she would have to stay until this was settled, which wasn’t at all what she’d been planning when she walked into the room. But she could hardly turn away from this poor woman and do nothing for her, not when she was in such a state.
She wrote to Mrs Hardcastle as soon as she was back in her parlour and sent the letter by what was now the Hudson dogcart so that she was sure it would be delivered that day. The midwife was equally quick, appearing on the doorstep at Monkgate early the next morning in her best bonnet and shawl. She spent the entire morning with her new mother, talking her through her worries, calming and soothing and finally telling her that her baby would be born safe and well ‘on account of I shall see to it’.
‘Such a relief,’ Lizzie said to Jane that afternoon. ‘I’m so grateful to ’ee, Mrs Smith. You’ve no idea. I was at my wits’ end afore you came along. Right at my very wits’ end. And now … Your Mrs Hardcastle is a splendid woman. Absolutely splendid. But I don’t need to tell ’ee that, do I? First rate and so kindly. She says I’ve got a fine healthy baby and ’twill be born wi’ no problem at all, bein’ the third like. She hasn’t any babies booked for August, so that’s a mercy. I’m to send the carriage for her when I have my first pains and she says she’ll be here within the hour. Oh, you’ve made all the difference to me. All the difference. You truly have. I tell ’ee, when we came here ’twas like the end of t’world, leaving home and the shop and all, but now … I’m so glad you’re our housekeeper. Now I shall have you and Mrs Hardcastle when the baby comes. I shall, shan’t I?’
‘Aye,’ Jane said. ‘Of course.’ She knew her promise was tying her feet to the ground but what else could she say?
‘Oh an’ afore I forget,’ Lizzie said. ‘Mr Hudson said to tell ’ee he wants to see thee. In his office, so he said. Anyroad, I think that’s what he said. He’s so full of plans for this house, I can’t keep pace with him. We’re to have a new nursery and I don’t know what-all. He’ll tell ’ee.’
So Jane left her grateful mistress and went off to find her graceless master. He was sitting at the desk in the office, reading letters. There were several rolled-up plans standing in a long vase at one end of the desk, obviously waiting for his attention, and a pot full of sharp quills ready at the other. ‘Aye,’ he said, without looking up. ‘Mrs Smith. I’ll be with ’ee shortly.’
She stood in the sunlight and waited as patiently as she could although her brain was seething. In two days all her sensible plans had been overturned and now she was stuck here in a house where she certainly didn’t want to be, with a master she certainly didn’t want to serve. The minute that baby’s born, she thought, I shall be off out of here like a shot.
‘Now then,’ George said, looking up at her. ‘What do ’ee say to the number of servants I’ve got in this house? Is there a sufficiency, d’you think?’
She answered him seriously. ‘It depends on what use you means to mek of the place,’ she said. ‘There are enough of us to run it day to day but if you were thinking of having company or entertaining …’
‘Oh, I shall be entertaining a great deal,’ he told her, ‘so there’ll be a deal of company. I mean to have the house redecorated to a more suitable style for it. So what sort of household would you need to manage all that?’
She gave him a generous estimate which he accepted without argument. ‘See to it,’ he said. ‘Tell ’em they can start on the old wages till I see if they suit.’
Not a word about his wife, Jane thought, as she took the back stairs to the kitchen. And not a word of thanks to me for helping her either. I don’t believe he pays any attention to either of us. He doesn’t see us. It’s just him and what he wants, him entertaining, him having a deal of company, him redecorating the house, what’ll be hard work whichever way you look at it.
She was right, for it wasn’t so much redecorated as stripped bare and redesigned. First all the old furniture was removed. Then the painters and decorators arrived. Within a week, the place was so clean that even Jane couldn’t fault it, a new bed had been installed in the master bedroom, there were bright new curtains at the windows, a new Turkey carpet on the floor and two fine new chairs where the master and mistress could sit at their ease. Then he set about reorganizing the dining room and the drawing room and planning a nursery. He bought sumptuous new furniture for all three rooms, and an expensive bone china dinner service for the dining room, a table big enough to seat eighteen people, a canteen of silver cutlery, linen tablecloths, dozens of napkins. No expense was spared and no detail overlooked.
‘I’m a rich man now,’ he told his dizzied wife, ‘an’ I must live according. Rich men live well. What’s the point of having brass if you don’t use it? I tell ’ee, Lizzie, this might be a windfall and unlooked for, but I mean to mek it work for me night and day. Night and day. You see if I don’t. For a start, I mean to build a railway from York to the Midlands, an’ when I’ve built one, I shall build another and another. There’ll be no stopping me. And every one’ll mek me money. This inheritance is just the start. It’ll be doubled in a twelvemonth if I have my way. I’m the richest man in York today, there’s no doubt about that, but give me a year or two and I’ll be the richest man in England. That’ll show ’em back in Howsham.’
Lizzie would have been quite content to be married to the richest man in York and had no national ambitions at all, but she only said, ‘I’m sure you will, dear,’ and smiled at him because she’d learnt by then that it wasn’t wise to disagree with Mr Hudson when he’d set his heart on something. Besides which she didn’t want to risk upsetting herself with an argument, not while she was carrying.
Another two weeks of ceaseless preparation followed and then her rich husband invited all his cronies to a splendid dinner, where roast beef was served in copious quantities, a great deal of excellent wine was consumed and raucous songs were sung. The guests didn’t leave until past midnight, by which time they were so drunk they had to be lifted into their carriages and were declaring that ‘old Hudson’ was a stout feller, ‘be dammed if he wasn’t’. It was all extremely satisfactory and successful and the best thing about it was that when his guests were stupid with drink, old Hudson had told them about the new railways and explained what a wonderful idea they were and what a lot of money they would bring to the town, and they’d been so well oiled they’d been happy to agree with him. Of course he knew that it would take time to really persuade them. They were too set in their opinions to change overnight. But they would be persuaded eventually. He would win them over with rich food and fine wine and enthusiasm. He’d made up his mind to it. Sooner or later he would build a railway between York and the coal mines and the prosperous manufacturing towns of the Midlands, just as he’d promised Lizzie, and these men would help him do it.
Meantime he had to find a way to meet George Stephenson and persuade him that he should be the principal engineer of that railway. And he also had to find his workforce, the first of whom had to be the engineers who’d learnt their trade on the Stockton and Darlington. Nothing less than the most experienced would do. His head was so full of plans he could barely sleep at night. Change was coming to his ancient city and he was the man who was going to bring it there. Even if it took years to raise the capital and to persuade the government to pass a bill to legalize the venture, his railway was going to be built. He hadn’t the slightest doubt of it.
Jane Jerdon had to admit that living in a house that was being revitalized was an exciting business. It wasn’t at all what she expected but that’s how it was. There
wasn’t time to sit and brood over the injustice of having to work for George Hudson, she was too busy working – and being surprised. For not only had her life quickened to a head-spinning extent but surprises followed one after another.
The Hudsons had been in the house for two months when Lizzie Hudson sent a maid down to the kitchen one hot afternoon to ask if Mrs Smith would come to see her in the parlour and bring a jug of lemonade for two, which Jane duly did. It had become a habit to take tea or lemonade with Lizzie and one she rather enjoyed. The first time it happened she’d been rather surprised because the lady of the house never took tea – or lemonade for that matter – with one of her servants but as the days passed she’d become accustomed to it. After all, they were rather more than lady and housekeeper now. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the great wealth that occasionally opened a chasm between them, they could have been friends.
‘I got a question to ask ’ee,’ Lizzie Hudson said, when they were settled. ‘Well, more of a favour, if truth be told. What I means for to say is … I got a question to ask you about your Milly.’
Jane was alarmed. Has she done summat wrong? she thought. But surely not. I’d have known if she had. Someone would have told me.
‘Aye,’ she said, speaking pleasantly, and waited.
‘The thing is,’ Lizzie said, ‘I need a nursemaid to help me with my little Richard. He can be a right little terror when he likes, I got to admit, and now that I’m carrying … Well, tha knows how it is. Anyroad, t’long and short of it is, Mr Hudson says I may choose whomever I like, what is kindly done, uncommon kindly, don’t ’ee think, I mean for to say when you consider what a lot he has on his mind, what with the shop and the house and all his properties and everything. He’s such a kind man. So what I mean for to say, I mean the thing is …’ She gulped and took a deep breath and went on, her words tumbling from her as if she couldn’t wait to get them out of her mouth. ‘The thing is, I wondered whether your Milly would care for the – um – position.’
The surprise of it was so extreme that Jane didn’t know what to say. I can’t possibly agree to this, she thought. ’Twould be downright wrong. Horrible. She’d be nursemaid to her brother. But she could hardly say so without appearing rude and ungrateful.
Outside the window, the world was carrying on in its usual way. A fine carriage was being driven towards Monkgate and three young women in very pretty bonnets were chattering past, arm in arm in the sunshine. She drank her lemonade to give herself a pause in which she could think, while Lizzie went babbling on.
‘She’s such a very good girl,’ she said. ‘So willing. I saw it at once. And so good with my Richard. He took to her on that first day – do ’ee remember? – what a day that was! He fell over and grazed his poor little knee – do ’ee remember? – I felt so sorry for him, falling over in all that muddle. He set up such a roar, ’twas a wonder I didn’t fall over myself, there was so much going on – anyroad she picked him up and rubbed it better and stopped him crying, what I was so grateful for you couldn’t begin to imagine. I’ll never forget it. I was at my wits’ end, what with the move and worrying about the shop and coming into all that money, what I never expected for a minute – not for one blessed minute – and Mr Hudson so excited an’ all, and then for him to fall over, poor little soul. ’Twas the last straw.’ Then she realized that Jane hadn’t answered her and she stopped and looked at her hopefully. ‘Tha’lt say yes, won’t ’ee, Jane?’ she said, leaning forward. ‘’Twould mean a great deal to me to have it settled.’
In her artless way, she had babbled Jane into a corner and somehow or other an acceptable answer had to be found. To refuse wasn’t possible. How could she explain it? Even to say nothing would look ill-mannered. ‘I shall have to talk to Milly about it,’ she temporized.
‘Oh yes, pray pray do,’ Lizzie said eagerly. ‘Such a good girl. I couldn’t want for a better. Shall we order more lemonade? I’ve a parlous thirst.’
Jane offered to fetch more lemonade herself and made her escape before any more pressure could be put on her. But her thoughts were spinning. How could she possibly let her daughter act as nursemaid to her brother? It was a ridiculous, impossible situation to be in but she was in it now and she would have to ride it out as best she could. With luck Milly would say she didn’t want the job and the problem would be solved.
But Milly thought it would be a very good idea. ‘I’m just the one for it,’ she said. ‘She’s got no idea how to handle a baby, poor lady, and I know all about it. Anyroad, I’m tired of being a housemaid an’ being bossed around all day an’ traipsing up and down stairs emptying stinking chamber pots an’ all. I’d make a first-rate nursemaid.’
‘How can ’ee possibly know that?’ her mother asked, laughing at her earnestness, despite her misgivings.
‘On account of I been watching you all these years,’ Milly said, ‘and what I’ve not learnt at your knee, Ma, isn’t worth knowing.’
It was a flattering answer but it didn’t help Jane to come to terms with what was being proposed. ‘Wouldn’t ’ee rather I found ’ee some other job?’ she said. ‘I can see tha’d not like being a housemaid. No one does. ’Tis mortal hard work. But I could ask at the next hiring if tha wanted a change.’
‘This’ll be change enough for me,’ Milly told her. ‘Tell her yes, Ma. I’d love to do it. When do I start?’
She began her new job the next morning, to Jane’s continuing misgiving and Lizzie’s relief, and she settled into her new position without a qualm. Within a week Richard was eating out of her hand, Lizzie was declaring that she couldn’t imagine how she’d ever managed without her and Jane had come to accept the arrangement, partly because she’d seen that her daughter was confident enough to handle anything and partly because she’d had another – and this time a very pleasant surprise.
At the end of July, George Hudson informed her that he was leaving for Filey to inspect his properties there and would be away for some time. ‘You’ll hold the fort for me, I don’t doubt, Mrs Smith,’ he said. And she agreed almost carelessly that she would.
The weather was warm and soporific. York dozed under a hazy sky, Lizzie dozed in a hammock in the garden, Mrs Cadwallader dozed in the open doorway of her kitchen. Even the birds were asleep. And it was the day of the hirings.
‘I think I might stroll into town and tek a look round the market,’ Jane said to Lizzie when she brought out her lemonade. ‘If there’s nowt tha needs for the moment.’ And as Lizzie opened her eyes and nodded sleepily, which was permission of a sort, she put on her new straw bonnet and left the house.
There was a strange man standing on the doorstep with his hand outstretched towards the door knocker, an unfamiliar, stocky man dressed almost entirely in brown, breeches, jacket, hat, boots and all, except for an expensive blue cravat.
‘Ah!’ he said. ‘I give ’ee good day, ma’am. I was just about to knock. Name of Cartwright. Come to see Mr Hudson.’
‘He’s not here at the moment, sir,’ she told him, looking up at him. He had a very strong face and the most extraordinary blue eyes. They were almost the same colour as the sky over their heads, and that was a most peculiar shade that morning, having been softened by the incessant heat to a smoky mixture of blue and grey. And his eyelashes were as long and dark as Milly’s.
‘Happen I might come in and wait for him,’ Mr Cartwright said. ‘He was most particular that I should see him.’
That made her smile. ‘You’ll have a long wait,’ she said. ‘He’s gone to Filey.’
‘Do you know when he’ll be back?’
‘It could be any time,’ she told him. ‘He doesn’t tell us his plans. He just ups and goes.’
‘Then I’d better find myself some lodgings until he returns,’ he said, ‘being as he was so particular I should see him. Happen you could recommend me a place. Somewhere clean and comfortable.’
‘I could show you where the best inns are,’ she offered. ‘I’m heading into town myself, but as to h
ow comfortable they’ll be, that I couldn’t say, never having been inside a one of ’em.’
He smiled straight into her eyes and she was surprised and confused to realize that the smile made her feel as though he was lifting her off her feet. ‘That’s uncommon kindly,’ he said. ‘I’m most grateful.’
How direct he is, she thought, as they set off towards Monk Bar together, and how honestly he speaks. There’s no deceit or false charm about him at all.
‘Have you come far?’ she asked.
‘From Darlington,’ he said. ‘I’ve been working on the Stockton and Darlington Railway. You may have heard of it. ’Twas in all the papers. I’m a railway engineer. Which is why Mr Hudson wants to see me.’
She noticed the pride in him and was touched by it. A worker, she thought, and good at his trade. ‘I’ll take you to Mrs Tomlinson’s first,’ she said. ‘It’s nobbut a step and it might suit.’
‘I’m beholden to you,’ he said and gave her that smile again, ‘but I mustn’t put you out of your way.’
‘It’s my afternoon off,’ she told him, ‘and I meant to take a walk in town anyroad.’
‘Well, then, if that’s the case,’ he said, ‘and always providing you will take a cup of coffee with me when the job is done, I will accept your kind offer.’ And he offered her his arm.
She took him to five different inns, where he read the menus and inspected the dining rooms and went upstairs to see the bedrooms while she waited in the entry halls. And when they’d finished their tour, he decided that the Star and Garter would suit him very well and they went back to book a room there.
‘Now for our coffee, I think,’ he said, rubbing his hands together.
It was a real pleasure to sit in the coffee house with his pleasant voice filling her ears and the scent of coffee filling her nose and the taste of it rich on her tongue. She couldn’t remember when she’d ever felt so happy.
Off the Rails Page 10
