Chapter Fourteen
As the train click clacked on through the Hampshire countryside and towards the city, Kate wondered what her new life would be like. She had never travelled any further than Andover and she had certainly never expected to be journeying on a train towards the capital.
‘It’s not the city proper, you know,’ Mrs B had informed her.
‘If you think we’re going to be seeing Buckingham Palace and the Changing of the Guard, you’d better think again.
Besides which we’re not likely to see much holed up inside the new place, there’ll be too much to do.
And you can forget going home any time soon, young lady.
We’ll be busy getting everything straight, the way the mistress likes it.
She’s decided already that we shan’t be doing any entertaining this Christmas.
Wants to keep it just a small family event this year she says, to make it easier on me.
I have my suspicions there’s other reasons, though, like moving house and coping with a wayward daughter and a demanding husband is all too much for her.
She’s arranged for Miss Clara to stay with her aunt down in Gloucestershire and Master Philip is going to the Carnforth’s apparently. ’
Kate knew she could always rely upon Mrs B to be forthright.
She was never one for over-egging the pudding.
She was disappointed to hear that both Philip and Clara would not be coming home for Christmas but there was little she could do about it.
She was here, travelling to London and life was going to be very different from now on.
Kate took a long look as the fields and farms flicked before her eyes, a kaleidoscope of greens and yellows and browns.
The undulating ground, veined with tracks and roads, connecting the hamlets and villages together.
Her heart took a sudden tumble as she realized the chasm that was opening up between her and all that she was familiar with, her homeland diminishing into the distance until it became a tiny spot on her memory.
How would she ever find her way back? She closed her eyes for a moment to picture Micklewell.
Her birthplace lay some distance from the train track but as they passed Hook station, she took herself on a mental journey.
She could almost see the white signpost on the outskirts of the village indicating Nately Scures and Up Nately, the row of thatched cottages on the banks of the stream and the smithy where the furnace was glowing.
She smiled as she imagined the Taylor sisters out tending their garden and old Nethersole mending his bicycle.
She shivered at the thought of the adder catcher, Brusher Mills, outside the Queen’s Head Inn with his bag of wriggling cargo, his guarantee of payment for clearing the grounds around Micklewell House.
The train gave a jolt and she opened her eyes. They had left the wide-open spaces behind. There were a great many more houses, carts, cabs, motorcars and people.
‘Oh my goodness, Mrs B, what is that?’ Kate said.
‘That, my dear, I believe, is an omnibus. I’ve heard about them but never seen one,’ Mrs B replied.
‘But there are people on the top and below. How many people can it carry, do you think?’ Kate asked.
‘I have no idea, Kate. You must ask Mrs Winton when we’re all settled or, better still, Master Thomas. No doubt he knows all about them, how they work and all.’
The train was slowing and the platform swept into view.
‘Oh my, we’re here,’ Mrs B exclaimed and immediately jumped up.
‘But the sign says Clapham Junction,’ Kate said.
‘Yes, don’t you remember, Mrs Winton said that we must change here and take the Forest Hill train?’ Mrs B snapped, struggling with her bags. ‘Don’t you listen to anything I say?’
The two women hurried out of the train and stood on the platform bewildered by the movement of people and the signs. Kate had no idea which direction they should go in. Unfamiliar sounds and smells surrounded them. Smoke billowed from waiting trains and brakes squealed.
‘Mind yer backs,’ a barrow boy shouted, as he struggled by with a cart loaded with bags and boxes.
They moved quickly to one side only to be in the path of another stream of people descending a staircase.
Kate noticed Mrs B’s colour turning from pink to purple, and the little beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
Her hat had slipped over one eye and the other held a startled expression as if she couldn’t quite believe where she was.
Kate offered to carry one of Mrs B’s bags along with her own and approached a man in uniform to ask where they might catch the Forest Hill train.
The man pointed them down the staircase towards a tunnel which took them under the track to platform three, where Kate helped Mrs B to a bench to sit and regain her composure.
A large gantry indicated that their train would be leaving in ten minutes.
‘Not long to wait,’ Kate said.
‘I just hope someone on the staff has thought to get in some provisions,’ complained Mrs B. ‘I’ll be good for nothing when we get there. No good expecting me to cook without having a cup of tea. Good thing I thought to pack a couple of slices of me best fruit cake,’ she said.
Kate was starving hungry. It seemed an age since breakfast but, with any luck they would be there soon, and be able to put their feet under their new kitchen table.
She wondered what the other servants would be like, but felt that no one would ever replace Eliza in her affections.
She wondered what Eliza was doing now, at this very moment and if she was missing her too?
‘Come on then, Dolly daydream,’ Mrs B said. ‘Train’s pulling in, let’s get aboard.’
As they stepped out from Forest Hill railway station, Kate felt insignificant.
People brushed past her, intent on their own path and no one looked her in the eye.
Finally, she managed to catch someone’s attention and asked which way for Dartmouth Road.
Mrs Winton had said it was walking distance, and that therefore they would not need to take a cab but, by the time they arrived, Mrs B was on her last legs.
Vanburgh House was much larger and grander than the house they had left behind in Andover, but Kate was too tired and Mrs B too cranky for them to do more than just relieve their aching arms of their baggage and thankfully accept the offer of a reviving cup of tea.
Kate was pleased to find that her new roommate and serving companion was a smiling sort of girl, with round cheeks and even rounder waistline, who was happy to show them the essential rooms of the house while the kettle boiled.
‘Elders and betters first,’ said Mrs B. ‘I don’t know how much longer I could have waited,’ and she disappeared outside the back door as fast as her weary legs could carry her.
Kate watched as the newly appointed girl, Mary, busied herself about the kitchen, boiling the kettle and setting out the tea things.
She couldn’t help but think how different she was to the Mary she had gone to school with back in Micklewell, she was as broad as Mary White was tall and quite a contrast to her old friend.
She had a similar kindly look to Eliza, though, and that made Kate feel more at ease.
Perhaps she and Mary would become friends too?
She hoped so, for she was beginning to feel homesick and lost. She felt like a small person in a big place that was far outside her experience and understanding.
At least she had Mrs B, though. For all her gripes and groans, Mrs B had a kind heart and her presence gave Kate a little reassurance that she was not completely without a familiar face to rely upon.
There were many other girls in service who would be far from home and alone.
At least she knew the Winton family and Mrs B.