Chapter Three #2
Kate smiled in acknowledgement of his praise.
She was beginning to like Philip Winton and feel comfortable in his company.
He was open and friendly with her and didn’t treat her like a servant at all.
Something she was both pleased and surprised about.
She had yet to get any real response from his sister, Clara, as she seemed to be more absorbed in her own daily activities and spent little time with Kate, apart from their daily walks, when there was more walking than talking done.
Kate was curious about Clara, but she suspected that Clara never gave Kate a passing thought.
They might be close in age but their experiences of life were so different.
Kate was a servant and her purpose was to accompany Clara and that was the sum total of their relationship to one another.
Their walks were mostly conducted in silence or with Clara listing all the social engagements she was invited to in the coming weeks.
Kate was surprised, then, when Clara entered the nursery one day and said, ‘Follow me, Kate. I need some help with something, urgently.’ After glancing at the twins who were happily playing a game of skittles while young Thomas was curled up in a chair with a book, Kate followed Clara to her room.
Clara walked straight over to the window.
‘Good,’ she said, ‘they’re still there.’
She turned to Kate. ‘Come here, quickly, before she goes.’
Kate stood beside Clara who pointed out a young woman and her mother on the opposite side of the street. They were engaged in conversation with an elderly couple.
‘Look closely at the young woman,’ Clara said. ‘What do you think of her attire . . . her clothes?’
‘She looks lovely,’ Kate replied.
‘Be more specific,’ Clara insisted.
‘Well . . .’ Kate paused, she wasn’t sure what Miss Clara wanted her to say.
‘Her suit, her hat, come on, Kate. I need to know.’
‘I’ve never seen clothes like that before,’ Kate said. ‘The black-and-white stripes certainly stand out.’
‘And . . . what else?’ Clara prompted her.
‘That scoop at the front of her straight skirt and the buttons, it’s . . . it’s well, it’s most unusual. Her hat certainly sets it all off and what’s that round her neck?’
‘A feather boa. They’re the height of fashion,’ Clara explained.
Kate could hear some sounds coming from the nursery and looked towards the door.
‘Mother is taking me shopping for a new outfit. I’m going to look for something just like that,’ she said. ‘We’ve been invited for dinner at the Carnforths’. Edward Carnforth’s a friend of Philip’s. They’re at school together. No doubt you’ll meet him at some point.’
The noise from the nursery was getting louder.
‘You’d better go and sort that out,’ Clara said. ‘Thank you, Kate.’
Kate bobbed and turned to go. She wasn’t sure why Miss Clara wanted her opinion, she didn’t know much about fashion but she hoped she’d said the right things.
* * *
Kate was learning more about the family as time went on.
What to do and what not to do. When to respond and when to keep quiet.
Time seemed to fly by, yet every night before she went to sleep she wondered what was happening in her own family home.
Those thoughts didn’t last for long though, as exhaustion overtook her and she fell asleep.
Kate’s Sundays were a welcome change from the rest of the week and the chance for a moment’s rest. After church and the serving of Sunday lunch, she had some free time.
When the family were not in need of their services and Mrs B was taking a nap, Kate and Eliza would often spend time together.
One Sunday, Kate accepted Eliza’s invitation to take a walk.
As they passed in front of the other elegant Georgian houses in Ford Street, Eliza told Kate about those who lived inside.
Her descriptions were full of doctors and businessmen, people of wealth and distinction, a world that they could only ever glimpse at and imagine.
Eliza was a creative storyteller and Kate was amused by her portraits of women gossiping over their bone china teacups, their fulsome figures swelling with too much cake.
As she talked, Kate could imagine the beady, rat-like eyes of their husbands calculating the cost of the new drapes and the expensive gowns for their daughters.
When they reached a house with white pillars framing the front door and tall chimneys, Eliza stopped and gave out her most florid description so far.
With a flourish of her hand and the clear confidence of a stage performer she announced, ‘We stand before the town residence of Lord Grabbit. A member of parliament and a well-respected gentleman hereabouts, he’s a businessman and the owner of dozens of shops across the county.
A man of property, he’s the landlord of so many houses round here that he could spend a night in a different one each day of the month, and he probably does.
Grabbit by name, Grabbit by nature,’ Eliza said, nudging her with her elbow. ‘Know what I mean?’
The two of them stifled their giggles. Kate was so glad that she had found someone like Eliza. She might have ended up in a house with a sour-faced misery for a kitchen maid but Eliza was fun and, when Kate felt homesick, she made life away from Micklewell bearable.
‘But do you really know any of the people who live in these houses?’ Kate asked. ‘Other servants, I mean, not the ladies and gentlemen, of course.’
Eliza blushed and giggled.
‘Why Eliza Brown, you do. Which house, this one?’
The nameplate indicated that this was ‘The Laurels’.
The tidy and formally planted front garden was surrounded by spiked metal fencing and at the side of the building steps led down the side towards the back of the house.
It was up those steps that a young man wearing a dark jacket and a beaming smile came running, taking two at a time.
‘Morning, Eliza. Who’s this you’ve brought with you?’ the young man asked.
‘This is Kate, our new nursemaid. Kate, this is Tommy. All you need to know about him, Kate, is to only trust him as far as you could throw him and make sure he keeps his hands in his pockets.’
‘Don’t you believe a word of it.’ Tommy beamed. He offered his hand. ‘How do you do, Kate? A pleasure to meet you, I’m sure.’
Kate shook his hand and replied, ‘Pleased to meet you, too,’ and together they walked to the park.
The streets and pavements were quite busy for a Sunday afternoon with families out and about together. The three of them moved to one side as two young boys came bowling their hoops along, much to the consternation of their parents.
‘George, Charles. You were told not to play with your hoops in the street,’ their father said. The reprimand brought them into line.
Kate was getting used to the new sights and sounds of the town, although the closeness of so many houses and people felt claustrophobic sometimes and she missed the wide-open spaces of the countryside.
She had to become more aware of vehicles and be especially careful when crossing the street.
The new automobiles frightened her with their loud engines and tooting horns.
But today she could relax. For a few hours she only had to worry about herself and not three young children.
The three of them chatted as they walked.
Tommy was quite the entertainer too, with his tales of life in the ‘Grabbit’ household.
His employer was actually called Mr Greaves, it turned out, and he had made his money from a chain of butcher’s shops which his father had set up and he had added to and established across the county of Hampshire.
Mr Greaves’ story was of a working man who had made good for himself and his family.
They treated Tommy well apparently and, when he turned twenty-one, there was promise of his becoming head butler and taking over from old Richards.
The current butler and his cook and housekeeper wife were both due for retirement.
Tommy stopped beside the pond and handed Eliza and Kate some bread pieces that he had in his pocket.
‘Here you are, ladies, let’s give the ducks a Sunday treat, shall we? Best fatten ’em up now so they’ll be nice and plump for the Christmas table.’
‘You’ll not take one, will you, Tommy?’ asked Kate. ‘People don’t eat them round here, do they? Why even the poorest in Micklewell would never take the ducks from the village pond.’
Eliza and Tommy looked at each other and tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle their giggles.
‘You’re so easy to bait, Kate,’ Eliza laughed. ‘Take all he says with a pinch. Like I said, don’t trust him as far as . . .’
‘I’ll throw you if you don’t watch it,’ Tommy said reaching out to grab her.
Eliza dodged away from him and stood behind Kate. ‘Now, Thomas White, mind your manners and remember you are in a public place.’
‘You wait ’til I get you in private then.’ Tommy smiled. ‘Not so long now.’
Kate wondered what he meant by that. Was Eliza keeping secrets? Did they have plans?
They had enjoyed each other’s company but the wind was beginning to find its way through Kate’s coat and she suggested they should keep moving.
Tommy explained that he had to be home before three, as there were special preparations in the house for a family gathering tomorrow.
They said goodbye to each other and walked back to their own separate houses.
As soon as Tommy was out of sight, Kate asked the question that had been burning her tongue. ‘What did Tommy mean when he said not so long now?’
‘He’s asked me to marry him, Kate. I was going to tell you. That’s the trouble with Tommy, no sense of occasion.’
Kate’s expression changed; she was shocked to hear that she might be losing Eliza so soon.
‘But don’t worry, it won’t be for a good while, more’s the pity. The sooner we can get married the better.’
Kate was sure she detected a ripple of worry lines appear on Eliza’s forehead.
‘I thought you were happy at Woodland House. Aren’t you happy?’ Kate asked.
‘Oh yes,’ Eliza hesitated. ‘It’s just that . . . well a girl wants to get married, doesn’t she?’
Eliza’s pensiveness was only fleeting, however, and she quickly returned to her usual light-hearted self.
‘Don’t look so worried, Kate. It will be a while yet. As I said, Old Richards is not exactly on his last legs yet. I’ll probably be an old maid before it all happens.’ She laughed.
There was something strange about Eliza’s mood.
Kate suspected that Eliza wasn’t telling her everything.
Sooner or later the time would come when her new friend would move on.
She decided not to dwell on such thoughts.
Sometimes there was little to be done but accept that things never stay the same.
When they entered the kitchen, Mrs B was rolling out pastry.
‘Ah good, just in time,’ she said. ‘I’ve prepared tomorrow’s lunch and this is the apple pie for their pudding.
All you have to do is heat up the beef casserole and then you can serve the pie with some custard.
I think I can trust you to do that, Eliza, can’t I?
I’ll be back in time to serve the dinner, but the two of you will have to manage afternoon tea.
Now, make sure you measure the tea carefully.
You know what the master’s like, too strong and he says money is being wasted by adding extra water and throwing tea leaves away, too weak and he says that we get enough housekeeping money and we’re trying to cut corners. ’
‘I think we’ll manage just fine, Mrs B. You relax and enjoy your day off. Going somewhere nice?’ Eliza asked.
‘To visit my sister in Monkton,’ Mrs B replied. ‘She’s been laid up with bronchitis, poor thing. I’m taking her some of my beef tea, that’ll set her right.’
‘You deserve some time off,’ said Kate. ‘A pity your sister’s not well enough to enjoy it with you. We’ll be fine here.’
‘Well you’d better be. Make sure you follow my instructions to the letter. I’ll have no time to pick up the pieces once I’m back. It will be full on preparations for Christmas come next week.’
Kate didn’t even want to think about Christmas.
It would be the first one spent away from her family.
She was going to miss the gathering of the holly and the glow of candlelight in Micklewell church, the carol singing around the village and the making of biscuits on Christmas Eve.
Christmas at Woodland House would, no doubt, be a grand affair but she would be thinking of them all gathering firewood in Micklewell woods while she laid fires in another family’s hearth.