An Orphan's Journey

by Rosie Goodwin

  The next two hours passed in a blur for Pearl as, entranced, she listened to Mr Jackson speaking about the mythical gods, and when he finally glanced at the clock and called an end to that day’s lesson, she sighed with frustration. She could quite happily have listened to him all day.

  Eliza rose and skipped off to find Mrs Forbes, looking very pretty in a new blue cotton dress sprigged with tiny rosebuds. She didn’t even glance in Pearl’s direction, but Pearl was used to that now. Still, it was lovely to see Eliza looking so well. She had gained weight and her hair, which had grown well past her shoulders, danced as she moved.

  ‘So what’s goin’ on wi’ her then?’ Freda asked as she and Pearl went back to the kitchen. ‘I ’eard as how the mistress ’ad adopted ’er and treated her like her own daughter.’

  ‘Well, that isn’t quite true,’ Pearl informed her. ‘Mrs Forbes hasn’t formally adopted her but she has taken her under her wing, which can only be a good thing for Eliza. She looks so well now.’

  Freda raised a curious eyebrow. ‘But what about you? Ain’t you jealous that you ain’t treated the same? I would be if I were in your position.’

  ‘Not at all; I’m just happy to see Eliza being well looked after.’

  They went into the kitchen and Cook smiled at Freda. As she had just remarked to Mrs Veasey, she was grateful to have more help. Freda wasn’t the prettiest of girls but she felt sorry for her, and intended to take the girl under her wing. Mrs Veasey, on the other hand, hadn’t taken to Freda at all. If she wasn’t much mistaken the girl could turn out to be a bit of a troublemaker, and she intended to keep a close eye on her.

  ‘Right, Freda, perhaps you could start preparing the vege-tables for the dinner this evening and then I’ll give you a lesson on making a fruit pie,’ Cook told the newcomer with a warm smile. ‘And, Pearl, you could go and give the drawing room a good dust and polish before you lay the table in the dining room, but mind you’re careful with the mistress’s knick-knacks. They come from all over the world and some of them are priceless.’

  Pearl just wished that she wouldn’t keep reminding her of the fact. It made her so nervous when she had to dust them.

  As she made her way back to the drawing room, Pearl found Eliza sitting on a pretty gilt chair in the hallway looking at the pictures in one of the storybooks Mrs Forbes had bought for her.

  ‘Why don’t you come and help me do some dusting?’ Pearl suggested with a smile.

  Eliza scowled at her. ‘I’m not a servant. That’s your job,’ she answered imperiously.

  Pearl was cut to the quick but she didn’t let the hurt show. She simply nodded and went on her way without another word. Every day Eliza seemed to grow a little further away from her, but there was nothing she could do about it.

  ‘Eliza, that was cruel to speak to your sister like that,’ she heard Mrs Veasey scold as she entered the drawing room, but Pearl quietly closed the door and didn’t hear her sister’s reply.

  That evening when she retired to bed, Pearl turned her back on Freda who was already tucked up in her own bed and had a hasty wash in the bowl on the washstand. She then slipped into her nightdress, but when she came to turn the blankets back, she was dismayed to find they were sodden.

  As she glanced towards Freda lying in the light of the guttering candle, she saw that she was grinning.

  ‘Oh, sorry about that,’ she said with a sneer. ‘I forgot to tell yer I had a little accident an’ spilled some water from the jug when I were gettin’ washed.’

  The washstand was nowhere near the bed and Pearl knew there was no way this could have happened accidentally, but she bit back the retort that sprang to her lips and swiped the wet blankets into a pile on the floor before heading off to the linen cupboard to get some dry ones, as Freda turned to the wall.

  Once she was finally in bed, she lay watching the shadows dance in the corner of the room, and felt sad. She had hoped when coming to this house that she would be happy, but first she had lost Eliza and now she had Freda to contend with, and somehow she knew that things could only get worse. Freda had always been spiteful and manipulative, but she already had Cook eating out of her hand and she wondered where it was going to end.

  Two mornings later Pearl lifted the heavy breakfast tray from the kitchen table and headed to the green baize door to take it into the dining room where the family were waiting to eat.

  Freda was sitting at the end of the kitchen table cleaning some silver cutlery and Pearl made to pass her when suddenly her foot connected with something and the tray she was carrying flew into the air before crashing to the ground. Food and broken crockery spilled across the tiles and Cook was furious.

  ‘You clumsy little devil. I shall have to start cooking all over again now; everything is ruined and the mistress won’t be pleased to be kept waiting. And just look at all those breakages! For two pins I’d get Mrs Veasey to make you pay for them out of your wages. Why can’t you be more careful and look where you’re going!’

  ‘I was looking,’ Pearl said, red-faced. ‘I tripped over something.’

  ‘Hm, fresh air by the looks of it,’ Cook grumbled as she slammed a clean pan on to the range. ‘There’s nothing I can see that you could have tripped over, you’ve just got two left feet! I would have thought you’d be less clumsy now you don’t have to limp!’

  As Pearl’s eyes rested on Freda, she saw a malicious gleam in her eye and suddenly she knew exactly what had happened. Freda had stuck her foot out and tripped her up on purpose. Not that she could prove it and Cook could see no wrong in the girl. Her lips set in a grim line she bent and began to pick up the spoiled food and broken pots from the floor.

  She was still clearing up the mess when Mrs Veasey entered the room and raised her eyebrows. ‘So, what’s happened here then?’

  ‘Pearl were clumsy an’ dropped the tray, missus,’ Freda piped up before Pearl had a chance to open her mouth.

  ‘Accidents do happen; it isn’t the end of the world,’ the woman said coldly as she bent to help Pearl. It was clear that Mrs Veasey hadn’t taken to Freda, so Pearl felt that she had at least one ally, which was something.

  Later that morning when Freda was busy in the laundry room and Pearl was cleaning, Mrs Veasey asked the cook, ‘So how is Freda doing?’

  ‘Aw, the lass is doing really well,’ Cook answered with a smile. ‘Between you and me I feel sorry for the poor little soul. She’s such a mousy little thing and I don’t think she’s had anyone to love her in her life.’

  ‘That’s as maybe but then neither have Pearl nor Eliza,’ Mrs Veasey pointed out.

  ‘Aye, but Eliza is certainly getting her share of the attention off the mistress now, isn’t she?’

  Mrs Veasey nodded. ‘Yes, I have to agree with that. I actually feel quite sorry for Pearl, though; they are sisters, after all. She must feel very abandoned and left out.’

  ‘Hm, but we all know what Eliza’s attraction is, don’t we? She’s by far the prettiest of the two, and the double of poor Miss Elizabeth into the bargain. Even so, no good will come of this obsession the mistress has with her, you just mark my words. The little madam has come right out of her shell now and is almost ruling the roost. The poor mistress dotes on her.’

  Mrs Veasey nodded; she had a sinking feeling that Cook could just be right.

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘C

  rikey, girl, have you got that fire going?’ Cook asked as she entered the kitchen one cold and frosty morning.

  ‘Yes, Cook, it’s been lit for the last ’alf . . . I mean half an hour,’ Pearl answered as she lifted the heavy soot-blackened kettle to pour water into the thick brown teapot. Once it was filled, she put the tea cosy on and bustled away to prepare the cups while it mashed. Cook always enjoyed her cup of tea before she started the breakfast each day, although it wasn’t clear why this was still a task for Pearl since Freda had joined the household.

  The snow had started to fall thick and fast some days before and alr
eady it was becoming difficult to leave the house. Pearl had seen snow many times before at home, but never anything like it was here. Back in London it turned to slush almost as soon as it settled because of the many feet that trampled across it, but here there were not many people to disturb it and it came down faster than she’d ever seen. The thick, white carpet grew deeper by the day. Only this morning, Pearl had struggled to open the back door and Will had cleared it for her when he appeared from his rooms above the stables.

  The kitchen door opened and Mrs Veasey appeared, looking rather pale and gaunt. She hadn’t been well for some time now, although the doctor, who the mistress had insisted she should see, was unable to determine what was wrong with her.

  ‘It must be some sort of virus,’ he had said and prescribed her a tonic, not that it appeared to be doing her much good.

  Mrs Veasey took a seat at the table and gratefully accepted the tea that Pearl offered her as Cook asked, ‘Are you feeling no better, Florence?’

  ‘Oh, I’m not too bad.’ Mrs Veasey smiled as she took a sip of the steaming drink, but then instantly clapped her hand across her mouth and lifting her skirts fled outside into the snow, to the toilet that was positioned across the yard.

  ‘Well, if that’s what she considers not too bad I dread to think what bad is,’ Cook muttered, deeply concerned. Freda joined them then and the atmosphere changed instantly, as the cook motioned her to a chair. ‘Come and sit down, pet,’ she urged. ‘And get this nice hot drink inside you. It’ll set you up for the day.’

  Pearl drained the rest of her cup and took it to the sink, before heading for the dining room. It was time to lay the table ready for the family’s breakfast and she was glad of an excuse to escape from Freda. She was surprised when she entered the room to find the mistress there, already up and dressed, and she hesitated in the doorway.

  ‘It’s all right, Pearl, you may come in and go about your business,’ she told the girl as she turned from the window. She had been moping about the house for days. Pearl thought it was probably because she was missing her son and she was proved to be right when Mrs Forbes confided, ‘I am trying to persuade my husband to take me to London for Christmas so that I can share it with Montgomery at my parents’ home in Chelsea. It just doesn’t seem right not to spend Christmas with him. There is a ship sailing in two days, which would get us there in plenty of time for Christmas if he agrees to it.’

  ‘That’ll be nice, ma’am,’ Pearl mumbled, not sure what she should answer.

  ‘And of course, if we do go, I would take Lizzie with us, and you too, to look after her on the boat. I’m afraid I have never been a very good traveller. How would you feel about that, Pearl?’

  Pearl was shocked, but after a moment she answered, ‘I would like that very much, ma’am. Perhaps while we are there, I could have a short time off to go and visit my family?’

  ‘I’m sure that could be arranged,’ Mrs Forbes agreed as Pearl threw a snow-white cloth across the highly polished table. ‘I will let you know when my husband has made his decision.’

  Once the cutlery had been laid, Pearl almost skipped from the room in her excitement. She had often wondered if she would ever see England again, or her family for that matter. Deep down, she knew that after the way they had abandoned them at the workhouse, her mother and father probably never gave her or Eliza a thought, but it didn’t stop her thinking of them and it would be wonderful to see her brothers and sisters again. Her mind began to race. She had saved every penny of the wages she had received since working for the Forbeses and while it didn’t amount to a great deal, perhaps she would be able to get the children a small present each?

  As she was carrying the food through to the dining room, Eliza and Mr Forbes joined Mrs Forbes and Pearl heard the mistress ask, ‘So, have you given any more thought to us spending Christmas in London, darling?’

  Pearl saw Eliza’s ears prick up, although she didn’t say anything as Mr Forbes crossed to the dishes and began to help himself to the hot food.

  ‘Well, I must be honest; I have a great deal of work on at the moment and I was rather hoping we could spend Christmas here, especially as I’ve not long been back.’ Mr Forbes glanced across at his wife and seeing her downcast expression he sighed. He found it very hard to deny her anything. ‘But I suppose . . . if it means so much to you the men could probably manage without me . . .’

  ‘Oh, Zack, you’re just too good to me.’ She hurried over to him and much to Pearl and Eliza’s embarrassment began to rain little kisses all over his face.

  ‘But I would have to come back on the first ship in the new year,’ he warned, knowing he was lost. ‘And that would mean you would probably have less than two weeks there by the time we arrive before we have to set off back here again. Are you quite sure it’s worth all that travelling? You know you’ve never been fond of sailing, my love.’

  ‘Oh, I’m quite sure,’ she told him, smiling prettily. ‘I’ve missed Monty so much! And now I really must go and see Mrs Veasey about the packing. There is so much to do if we are leaving the day after tomorrow.’ Lifting her silken skirts, she skittered towards the door, breakfast forgotten, as Mr Forbes shook his head and carried his plate to the table with a resigned sigh. He was well aware that his wife could play him like a fiddle but even so he wouldn’t have changed a single hair on her head.

  ‘Aw well, at least that means we’ll all have a nice peaceful Christmas,’ Cook commented when Mrs Veasey told her of the family’s plans shortly after. ‘I’m surprised they’re taking Pearl and Eliza though.’

  Mrs Veasey, who was still feeling very under the weather, shrugged. ‘I must admit I was somewhat surprised too. I think I’ll get Pearl to do hers and Eliza’s packing. The mistress has already dragged half of her wardrobe out on to the bed so I’ve asked Will to fetch the travelling trunks down from the attic for me. If you saw the amount of things she’s planning to take you would think they were going for a year at least. Still, it’s not my place to question, is it?’

  Pearl entered the room at that moment with the rest of the dirty breakfast pots piled on a tray and Mrs Veasey told her, ‘Forget the cleaning duties for this morning, Pearl. Instead I would like you to pack whatever you think Eliza might need for your journey and her stay in London. It must feel very strange to be going back to your place of birth.’

  Pearl nodded in agreement as she gingerly placed the tray on the table. ‘It does, to be honest. I didn’t expect to be going back there for many a long day, let alone so soon, but I’m not complaining and it isn’t as if we’re going for long, is it?’

  Will appeared in the doorway then. ‘Right, that’s all the trunks fetched down from the loft. I’ve left them on the landing for you so when they’re ready give me a shout and I’ll come in and bring them all down for you.’

  Pearl smiled at him, realising that she would miss him while they were away. He’d become a friend to her in the time they had been there and whenever Freda’s spiteful behaviour became a little too much to bear, he was always a shoulder to cry on. She guessed he must be at least eight to ten years older than her, but he was a handsome chap and she wondered why some girl hadn’t snapped him up – not that it was any of her business, she reminded herself.

  ‘Must be off now,’ he told them as he headed for the kitchen door. ‘The damned rats got into the chicken coop last night and killed at least four of our good layers.’ Because of the open woodland surrounding them rats were a constant problem, despite Will’s best efforts to get rid of them.

  Freda, who had just heard of the trip Pearl and Eliza were about to embark on, stood at the sink angrily smashing the dishes into the water with a grim expression on her face. It didn’t seem fair to her that Pearl got to go. She could understand Eliza going, for everyone knew that the mistress doted on the girl and hated to let her out of her sight, but surely she was big enough to look after herself without having her sister there to mollycoddle her? Still, she thought, at least wi’ them out o
f the way I’ll ’ave Cook all to meself and I won’t ’ave ’alf as many pots to wash if we ain’t got that spoiled lot to pander to! And so, she decided, there just might be some consolation to them going after all.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur for Pearl as she helped with the packing and by early evening the hallway was full of trunks and boxes ready to be taken to the ship.

  When Mr Forbes arrived home, his mouth fell open at the sight of them. ‘What’s all this?’ he asked his wife as she appeared in the doorway of the drawing room.

  She hurried over to him and grinned as she slipped her arm through his. ‘It’s our packing, of course.’

  ‘But, darling, why do you and I need so much luggage? There must be enough clothes packed here to last us for a year at least.’

  ‘It isn’t all ours, silly!’ She giggled girlishly. ‘Some of it is for Lizzie and Pearl. And of course, I’ve also had to pack all the presents I’ve bought for the family.’

  ‘Lizzie and Pearl?’ He looked astounded as he drew her into the drawing room and closed the door behind them. ‘But I thought it would be just you and me going. Why do you need to take them? They came here to be maids.’

  Emmaline pouted. ‘But I can’t leave Lizzie behind and if I take her, I must take Pearl to look after her.’

  He frowned as he began to strum his fingers on the tabletop. This obsession she had with Lizzie was beginning to concern him now. At first, he hadn’t minded it because it seemed to have taken her mind off the death of their daughter a little, but now it was becoming worrying. Why, he wouldn’t be at all surprised if she wanted to legally adopt her next.

  ‘Look . . .’ he began tentatively, choosing his words carefully. ‘I can understand why Lizzie appeals to you. She has a look of our Elizabeth about her but . . . darling, we have to accept that Elizabeth has gone. She can never come back and no one can take her place.’