I must be careful
, she thought,
as Mrs Bishop would say, of becoming
over-fond on him.
But how can you become over-fond of a child, surely they all deserve love?
There was only a little water in the jug on the wash-stand, and she poured it into the china bowl and dabbed her face and arms, neither was there a clean towel, the wooden towel stand was empty; Betsy had obviously forgotten to get them out of the press, so she briskly rubbed her face and arms with her petticoat until she was dry. She dressed and quietly went downstairs and opened the kitchen door.
It was empty, and, puzzled, she went to look for Betsy outside in the yard. There was no sign of her. She returned to the kitchen and put some dry kindling which was lying in the hearth, onto the low, banked-down fire, and then filled the kettle with water and placed it on the hook.
Now what do I do?
she thought. If she had ever thought to consider it, she would have imagined herself perfectly capable of doing housewifely things; yet she had no practical experience, but only a smattering of knowledge of what happened in a kitchen.
I have been cosseted
, she mused,
brought up to be a lady, while Betsy
—
There was a creaking of boards overhead as someone put their feet out of bed and the sound of someone yawning loudly, and then another thump as another body got out of bed. She could hear the muffled sound of voices as the men upstairs called to each other through the bedroom walls. But where was Betsy? She was beginning to get anxious, knowing that the day would get off to a bad start if there was no breakfast for the men.
The outer door quietly opened and Betsy slid in. ‘Where have you been?’ Sammi began, but Betsy urged silence with her finger against her lips. Her cheeks were pink and her hair tousled and she reached above the mantelshelf for a hairbrush and ran it through her hair. She perfunctorily straightened her dress, put on an apron and, taking some oats from a crock, she put them into a pan with water and placed it on the fire.
‘Tha’s never up, Betsy? ’Sky’ll fall in today.’ Mark was the first to come downstairs, fully dressed, followed by Tom, who had on his breeches but was without his shirt, his muscular chest dark with hair.
‘You’ll have to excuse me, Sammi,’ he muttered. ‘I didn’t think you’d be up yet.’
She blushed, she didn’t know why, and she bent her head as she lamely said that it didn’t matter. As the two men went out into the yard to wash, she caught a twisted grin from Mark to Tom whose response was to give his brother a sharp shove, and she wondered what Mark found so funny.
‘Betsy!’ At last she could ask her where she had been. The men had breakfasted and gone across to
the mill. Again Betsy put her fingers to her lips and shook her head. She listened, her head on one side.
‘George!’ she whispered. ‘He’s still pottering about outside and he’s got ears like an elephant.’
‘He wouldn’t know what we were talking about. Where have you been?’
Betsy collapsed into a chair by the fire and clasped her hands beneath her chin and closed her eyes. When she opened them they were tender and misty with emotion. ‘Don’t tell, will you, Sammi?’
Bewildered, Sammi shook her head. ‘Of course not, but …’
‘I went to meet Luke.’
Sammi caught her breath. ‘So early? But why?’
‘Because I can’t get away at any other time. If Da knew, he would stop me. Oh, Sammi!’ She put her hands to her mouth as if to stop herself from saying more.
‘But, Betsy, it isn’t wise,’ Sammi said earnestly. ‘You mustn’t go alone! Luke might get the wrong impression. If you really want to meet him, I’ll go with you, so you can walk and talk together.’
Betsy smiled and stretched her arms above her head. ‘Thank you, Sammi. You’re a dear. I’ll remember that another time.’
It was just striking eight o’clock as Nancy, the girl who came to help, knocked on the door and entered the kitchen. ‘ ’Morning, Miss Betsy. ’Morning, Miss Rayner.’ She flopped down on a stool by the kitchen table and wearily put her elbows on the table and cradled her chin in her hands. ‘I’m that tired this morning, I’ve not got a ha’porth of energy.’
Sammi looked at Betsy. This was no way for a servant to behave, but Betsy simply gazed into the fire. Sammi swallowed. It wasn’t her place, she knew, but surely! ‘Betsy? Weren’t you going to ask Nancy to clean the bedrooms this morning?’ She had noticed the layer of dust on the chest of drawers and around the skirting boards.
‘Was I?’ Betsy looked up vacantly. ‘Oh, that’s a good idea. Yes, if you would please.’
Nancy got up sullenly from the table and went towards the stairs.
‘You’ll need a duster and a broom,’ Sammi called her back, ‘and the water jugs need washing and refilling.’
‘Yes, miss,’ she muttered. ‘I’ll see to it.’
‘Betsy!’ Sammi said in hushed tones after the girl had gone upstairs. ‘She’s useless! You must be firm with her.’
‘I don’t know how to be,’ Betsy said. ‘No-one ever showed me how to treat servants; they always take advantage of me. I’m too soft with them.’
‘You are,’ Sammi agreed, ‘but they do like to know their duties, at least ours do, and if you don’t tell them what they have to do, how are they to know? Betsy! I know that I am only a guest, but shall we light a fire in the parlour? It’s such a pleasant room and you hardly ever use it.’
Betsy looked at her in astonishment. ‘We only use it at Christmas. Why should we use it now?’
‘It would be nice if you and I could go in there after supper, just to talk, or Uncle Thomas could go in and read his papers in peace.’ She smiled cheekily. ‘Or you could take a beau in there, if one came calling!’
Betsy laughed out loud. ‘There would be no likelihood of that. If Luke came calling, he would be shown the door, and there’s no-one else around here.’ Her face melted and looked wistful. ‘There’s nobody else.’
‘Why don’t they like Luke? He’s not so bad, and he works hard, doesn’t he? He’s not lazy?’
‘I don’t know if they like him or not. The subject has never cropped up. His father has a smallholding and Luke works with him, but I don’t think there’s much money.’ She sighed. ‘They probably only grow enough for themselves, so he’s hardly a good catch.’
Sammi made Betsy call Nancy down to light the fire
in the parlour, which she did with poor grace, and after a few minutes they heard her shouting and coughing, and calling them to come. The parlour was choked with thick smoke which swirled around the room covering the furniture with soot.
‘’Chimney’s blocked, miss. It must be,’ she spluttered.
‘Open the window,’ Sammi cried, ‘and the door, and dampen down the fire.’
Nancy rushed past them, coughing and spluttering, into the kitchen and dashed back with a pan of water which she threw with great force onto the flames in the hearth before either of them could stop her.
‘You silly girl!’ Sammi shrieked at her as soot and smoke gushed into the room. ‘I said
dampen
it, not flood it.’
They all dashed for the door and stood in the yard gasping for breath and then looked up as they heard the rattle of carriage wheels and Sammi saw her mother and father step down from their carriage, and her brother Billy driving Gilbert’s gig drawing up behind them.
Ellen Rayner stared at her daughter standing in front of her with her face spattered with soot and streaks of grime down her dress. ‘Is there a fire?’ She stared from Sammi to Betsy and to the crying maid behind them.
‘No, Mama. But there should be.’ Tears started to run down Sammi’s cheeks. ‘Oh, Mama, Pa. I thought you were never coming to see me. Are you very angry with me?’
Ellen held Sammi at arm’s length and gingerly kissed her cheeks. ‘Angry? No. We thought that this was what you wanted! I didn’t realize that you were playing at kitchen maids!’
‘I say, Sammi, what have you been up to?’ Billy grinned at her. ‘You do look a mess!’
Sammi pushed her hair back from her face. ‘We were trying to light a fire in the parlour, but the
chimney is blocked.’ Her lip trembled. ‘Mama, there’s so much to do here, you must speak to Uncle Thomas about getting some proper help for Betsy.’
Ellen peered into the parlour. ‘It is in a mess. You’d better send for the sweep, Betsy.’
They all adjourned outside again away from the smell of smoke, and William went into the mill to tell Betsy’s father of Isaac. ‘I’ll do what I can, Betsy,’ Ellen said. ‘After we have seen Uncle Isaac, I’ll speak to your father. And Sammi,’ she turned towards her, ‘then I will speak to you.’
Isaac had recovered consciousness, and although he was feeble and his speech was slow, he was able to talk to Mildred and Gilbert, and insisted that if he was going to die, then he would rather go home and die in his own bed.
William and Ellen had arrived at the Infirmary when this possibility was being discussed, and although William ruled out the sensibility of removing Isaac at such an early stage of his illness, he realized that sense wasn’t an issue, but that the requirements of longing and desire for one’s own four walls were. After consulting with the doctor, he arranged that if Isaac would be patient and stay where he was for one more day, he would come back the following morning and take him home himself. Leaving Ellen with Mildred, he then set off to meet Gilbert.
‘I’m so glad that you came, Uncle William.’ Gilbert ran his fingers distractedly through his crop of red hair, and invited his uncle to be seated in the office which he had now commandeered. ‘I don’t know which way to turn. There’s so much to do. Father took such a lot on himself.’
Billy knocked on the door. ‘Sorry, Gilbert, but I thought you ought to know, the men are most unhappy that the
Polar Star Two
went off without acknowledgement this morning. The other seamen are saying it’s a bad omen; you know how superstitious they are!’
Gilbert pushed his chair back with a crash. ‘What
in God’s name am I supposed to do? My father is in hospital. I’m trying to run a business, and I can’t be in two places at the same time!’
‘I know.’ Billy nodded. ‘I just thought you ought to know.’
‘Is it too late?’ William asked. ‘Could you get a tug boat to take you out? Or what about a telegraph to Spurn?’
Gilbert took out his watch from his waistcoat pocket. He shook his head. ‘No. She’ll have rounded the Point by now.’
‘You could send a message with one of the ships from another company,’ Billy suggested. ‘The
Lara
will be sailing tomorrow. They could give a message to
Star Two
in the Shetlands when they reach there.’
Gilbert gave a relieved exclamation. ‘Yes. Brilliant idea, Billy. Draft something out straight away, will you, and I’ll sign it and send it over.’
‘I’ll take it if you like and give it to the
Lara
’s captain. It’ll look better.’
William stayed an hour, going over various aspects which were causing Gilbert problems and advising as best he could and after he left, Gilbert sat pondering. How he hated making decisions. He toyed with the idea of asking Billington, his future father-in-law, for advice, and mused that Austin Billington had intimated to him on several occasions that Masterson and Rayner could do better with his bank than with Salters whom he described as old hat and not forward-looking. He had mentioned this to his father, but Isaac had insisted that Salters may not be very ambitious, but that they were safe.
He slipped on his coat and picked up his topper and ran down the stairs towards the door. He would go across to see the Billingtons. Austin Billington occasionally went home for a nap, and if he wasn’t there, at least he would see Harriet. He persuaded himself that he needed to see Harriet anyway, to discuss the furniture and drapery which was arriving
daily at their future home, and to make final plans for their wedding day, and he pondered that perhaps, in view of his father’s illness, it might be more proper to delay it.
Yet he was anxious that the plans should go ahead. If the wedding was delayed and news of the child should get out – and he had been on tenterhooks all morning that Uncle William would mention it – then he was very much afraid that it would be cancelled for good.
He was so engrossed in his thoughts as he went out of the door that he failed to see Billy look up from his desk where he was busily writing a message for the
Polar Star Two
. Billy grimaced and bit on the end of his pen. Then putting his head down again, he finished the message, signed it
Gilbert Foster Rayner
, blotted and sealed it, and put it in his pocket, telling Hardwick that he wouldn’t be long.
Harriet and her mother were at home though her father wasn’t. ‘He said that he has a very busy day today, Gilbert, and couldn’t get home,’ Mrs Billington gushed, which was her usual manner, unless she was unwell, in which case she spoke only in languid, monosyllabic tones. Today she was well. ‘Quite well,’ she replied to his query. ‘But so concerned about your poor father. The shock of his illness gave me such a turn that I had to retire to my bed.’
Gilbert murmured his thanks for her concern, and Mrs Billington then broached the subject of the forthcoming wedding. Harriet turned a regretful glance towards him, but her mother immediately determined that under no circumstances should it be cancelled.
‘I was speaking to your dear mother on the very subject only last evening,’ she advised. ‘And
we
decided, both of us, that the last thing your father would want would be for you two dear young people
to cancel your marriage. Of course,’ she added in a low voice, ‘if anything should happen, if things got worse,’ she nodded her head in gloomy anticipation, ‘then of course we would have to postpone.’ She clasped her hands together. ‘I have my black ready at all times in case of such tragedies.’
Gilbert glanced at Harriet, who raised her eyebrows, and then swiftly lowered her lashes before her mother could see her apologetic expression.
It’s all very well
, he thought, as he ran down the stone steps and hurried back down Albion Street and across the town towards the High Street.
We had to postpone the marriage when she was ill with some paltry thing, yet my poor father is going to miss the ceremony. He won’t be well enough to attend, not in the least;
and he quite forgot the relief he’d felt when hearing that the marriage should go ahead. He cut through a narrow passageway which made a short cut from the banking area of Parliament Street and led into the thoroughfare of Lowgate. There were numerous courts and entrances in this part of town, some of which were not safe to walk through because of vagrants or pickpockets, but most were well used by the business people and residents of the town, and some of the buildings within them were used as residential establishments as well as business premises.