Emily (11 page)

Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. I thought you didn’t care for me, Ma, she silently wept. I thought you cared more for our Joe than you did for me. I thought it was only Da who loved me. And it wasn’t, but you never said. You were the one who made the decision that I should leave when you knew that Da was going to die. If only I had known!

Dolly looked curiously at her. ‘What’s up, Emily? Not feeling sick are you? We’ve miles to go yet.’

Emily shook her head and managed a watery
smile. ‘No,’ she sniffled. ‘I was just thinking how lucky I am.’

They drew into an inn yard in Bridlington, and whilst the driver went into the inn for a drink and the post boy watched over their luggage, they took a short stroll to stretch their legs. ‘Mustn’t go far,’ Dolly said. ‘We’re responsible if owt goes missing and Mrs Purnell wouldn’t half have summat to say.’

So they kept the coach within their sight and merely strolled outside the inn yard and watched as other coaches pulled in and the occupants descended. ‘There’s Ginny!’ Dolly exclaimed. ‘That must be ’Marshalls’ carriage. Yoo-hoo, Ginny!’ she called to one of two maids, who were standing by an old-fashioned carriage and stretching themselves.

‘What an old boneshaker!’ Ginny came across to them. She was a cheerful-looking young woman, older than either Emily or Dolly, with dark hair and rosy cheeks. ‘I have my doubts whether it’ll reach Scarborough, especially up and down them hills that are coming.’ She smiled at Emily. ‘I haven’t seen you afore, have I?’

‘I’m Emily,’ she replied shyly. ‘I came to Mrs Purnell in the spring.’

‘Ah, so you haven’t been to Scarborough afore? Well, what a treat in store for you.’ She appraised Emily in an admiring way. ‘We shall have to keep an eye on her, Dolly. With that face she’ll have a score of admirers chasing her.’

Dolly gave a jealous pout. ‘She’s too young, can’t you see?’

Ginny shook her head. ‘That won’t make any
difference to ’young bucks at Scarborough! They’ll be fighting over her, if I’m not mistaken!’

They left the harbour and fishing cobbles of Bridlington behind and continued on their way to Scarborough, slower now as the road became steeper, but always keeping the sea within their sight. Between Reighton and Hunmanby they saw that Mrs Marshall’s coach, which was in front of theirs, was having difficulty getting up and down the hills and several times, as they approached a steep incline or hazardous corner, the two maids got out of the coach to walk and make it easier for the horses. ‘Blooming old coach,’ Ginny called to them as they drove past, ‘it must weigh a ton!’

They couldn’t stop to pick the others up, for their horses were struggling too, and besides there wasn’t room to squeeze another pin into the coach, let alone two more maids. ‘We always get rickety old hired carriages,’ Dolly grumbled. ‘Owt’s good enough for us. Now when Master Hugo travels to Scarborough, he drives a curricle, red and black it is, with two spanking hosses. What a sight. You should just see him!’

The sun was beginning to dip as they topped a rise and saw below them the blue-green waters of Scarborough, with the ancient castle standing proudly on the headland which divided the two bays. Emily drew in a deep breath. ‘How beautiful it is! Look at the castle on ’top of the hill, oh and the sea is so blue.’ She pushed down the carriage window and breathed in again. ‘Oh, and that smell! I never thought I would smell ’sea again!’

‘I thought you hadn’t seen ’sea afore?’ Dolly said
curiously. ‘I thought you was from ’country!’

‘So I am,’ she laughed and told Dolly of when she and Sam used to row down the Humber almost to the tip of Spurn. ‘We used to run over ’top of ’dunes to be first to see the sea. Oh, how I love it,’ she exclaimed. ‘How I love it!’

They continued on into the town until they came to the rented house in Merchants’ Row. Mrs Marshall’s manservant, Johnson, helped their coachman to unload the luggage and lift it into the hall and then climbed wearily back into the carriage to make the return journey to Hull. ‘See you in a couple of days, ladies.’ He winked at Emily. ‘Behave yourselves now, don’t get into any mischief!’

‘Fat chance,’ Ginny muttered as she surveyed the pile of boxes waiting to be unpacked. ‘Come on, Lizzie,’ she said to the other maid, ‘let’s get moving and maybe we can have a stroll after supper. Would you like to come?’ she called as Emily and Dolly went up the stairs with a heap of gowns over their arms.

Emily glanced at Dolly. ‘Will it be all right?’ she asked. ‘Are we allowed?’

‘Nobody here to stop us,’ Dolly grinned. ‘There’s no Mrs Anderson to say what we can or can’t do. Come on, let’s look sharp and get this lot unpacked. We can do ’ironing in ’morning.’

It was still light as the four of them strolled along the foreshore towards the pier and the lighthouse, and Emily breathed in the salty air and gazed into the dark water at the cobles and fishing vessels which were moored there, then lifted her head to
watch a coble coming in from the open sea with its lugsail rippling in the evening breeze.

‘Watch out for t’nets, ladies, don’t catch them pretty feet and fall.’ A group of pipe-smoking fishermen was sitting amongst a pile of lobster pots. Some of them were mending nets and others were gutting fish. It was a young man who had spoken and the other men laughed. ‘Watch out for this young lover more like,’ an older man called and got up from his seat on an upturned wooden bucket and raised his salt-stained hat. ‘Tha’d be better off with an older man, ladies. Somebody with experience.’

‘Aye,’ Ginny bantered back. ‘And wi’ a lot more besides, I wouldn’t wonder. Good evening to you, Jack.’

‘And to you, Ginny. It’s good to see thee again. Tha’s brought some new friends, I see.’

‘Mrs Marshall and Mrs Purnell are sharing a house this summer so we’re all together,’ Ginny explained.

‘So tha’ll be needing some extra fish?’ He lifted a pair of silver mackerel, the scales glinting in the lamplight. ‘Tek these for thy supper and I’ll bring a parcel round first thing tomorrow.’

‘And who’s this with an angel’s face?’ The young man who had spoken first came and stood by Emily. ‘Won’t you introduce us, Ginny?’

‘This is Emily,’ Ginny said. ‘And she’s onny for looking at, not for touching. She’s onny a bairn so keep thy hands off, young Ben.’

He smiled and doffed his hat, giving a small bow. ‘Charmed to meet thee, Emily.’ He took her
hand in his. ‘I shall wait for thee, Emily. For ever if need be.’

He was tall and fair, and his smile flashed in his face, brown from the salt air, and Emily felt flattered that such a handsome man had singled her out.

‘Don’t tek any notice of what they say, Emily,’ Ginny advised as they retraced their steps. ‘It’s all said in fun and they’re all married men, except for young Ben, and he’s all but.’

‘Oh!’ Emily was disappointed. It would have been nice to go back to her bed and dream, not of an unattainable Mr Linton, as she had been doing for many nights, but of a young man of her own class who appeared to be smitten with her. It seemed that it was only a joke after all.

But it was young Ben Thompson who called most days with freshly caught fish, and he would hover at the kitchen door and give Emily a wave if he saw her; but Mrs Marshall’s kitchen maid, who usually answered his knock, was of a sullen nature and didn’t respond to his banter, nor would she pass on messages of good wishes to Emily as he requested. Sometimes Emily saw him if she went on an errand into the town and she deliberately walked along the harbourside in the hope of seeing him and having a few words.

She was strolling along one day after collecting a parcel for Mrs Purnell, then stopped to lean on a railing and listen as she heard the sound of the band striking up across on the pier, when Ben rushed towards her, his face flushed and his words breathless. ‘Emily,’ he gasped, ‘other fellows
challenged me, ’cos they knew I was scared and hardly dare tell thee.’

‘What?’ she laughed.

‘Just that – tha’s so beautiful! I’ve never seen anybody as beautiful as thee.’

She blushed and looked away. ‘You’re just fooling,’ she said, remembering what Ginny had said.

‘No. No, I’m not,’ he pleaded earnestly. ‘And I know tha’s young, but next year, mebbe – mebbe tha’d come out wi’ me?’

‘You’ve got a lady friend, haven’t you?’

He bent his head. ‘Aye, I have – but, but I’d give her up if I thought –!’

She drew herself up and looked him in the eye. ‘Don’t do anything you’ll be sorry for, Ben. I might not come back next year.’

He grasped her hands. ‘I can’t sleep for thinking about thee, Emily. I’ll wait, I promise.’

She released her hands and left him and walked with a spring in her step and a smile on her lips at the notion that someone’s sleep was disturbed by thoughts of her. Several men touched their hats as she passed by and young gentlemen from the Grammar School and menservants gave her a smile and she responded with a nod of acknowledgement.

‘What ’you looking so pleased about?’ Dolly grumbled when she got back to the house. ‘You’d better look sharp with that parcel ’cos mistress is going to a concert and wants ribbons out of it to put on her gown.’

‘Where have you been, Emily? Gossiping, I’ll be
bound.’ Mrs Purnell reached for the parcel. ‘Now, I want you to sew this ribbon across the bodice, criss-cross it like so, like the dress we saw in that shop window yesterday, but be quick because the carriage is coming at five.’

She watched as Emily took out the sewing box and selected a matching thread. ‘I want either you or Dolly to come with me; we shall have supper after the concert is over and then play cards, so we shall be late. I don’t mind which of you comes.’ She smiled graciously as if she was giving them a treat. ‘You can choose between yourselves.’

‘Well, I’m not going,’ Dolly decided when Emily told her. ‘I’ve been before and it’s boring. You’ve to hang around for hours while they listen to ’music, and then when they play cards it’s fetch me my wrap, fetch me some coffee, go here, go there. Then you’ve to look out for ’carriage when they want to go home and it’s dark out there at ’Spa, and it’s cold.’ She stared defiantly at Emily. ‘You’ve not been afore. You can go. Besides,’ she gave a pert grin, ‘I’ve got other fish to fry.’

Mrs Marshall wanted Ginny to come too and Emily was pleased about that, not having been to the Gothic Saloon before, and as she and Ginny sat next to the driver as the carriage rumbled over the iron bridge to the Spa building, she felt privileged to be there. She settled Mrs Purnell into her seat and Ginny did the same for Mrs Marshall, they took their wraps and agreed they would come back at the interval, and then returned to the foyer, where they gave the wraps to an assistant in the cloakroom.

‘We can relax for an hour now, Emily. They won’t
want us till coffee time. Let’s go and see who’s here and who’s not.’

They went out on to the terrace and milled around with the other servants, who were laughing and chatting as they waited for the interval. The music struck up and one or two couples started to dance. ‘How lovely it all is,’ Emily laughed. ‘And Dolly didn’t want to come!’ The evening was warm, the sun was still shining and far out in the surging waves they could see people bathing from the bathing huts and hear their shouts of laughter. Children were playing on the sands, which were golden in the sunlight, and Emily felt as if she really was on holiday.

Ginny pointed out various people to her. Servants of this person or that. ‘She’s with Mrs Stanley of Beverley,’ or, ‘She’s with Mrs Morley of York,’ or, ‘There’s the Honourable Mrs Owstwick with her two daughters.’ Emily was amazed that Ginny seemed to know everyone who was worth knowing.

They leaned on the low wall and looked down at the people walking below. ‘The Brodericks are not coming this year, nor are the Francises; you worked for them, didn’t you, Emily? Mrs Francis and her daughter have gone abroad. Ah!’ said Ginny, ‘and my favourite of all! There’s Commander Linton with Mrs Linton and their two daughters. We don’t often have ’pleasure of seeing him at Scarborough.’ She pointed out a tall, bearded man walking arm in arm with his wife and two daughters. ‘Perhaps he’s retired from the sea. They live up on ’Wolds,’ she added, ‘and – they have the handsomest
son that you would die for. But too young for me,’ she said sorrowfully, ‘even if there was the remotest possibility, which there isn’t!’

‘Oh,’ Emily breathed, all thoughts of Ben Thompson flying away. ‘Philip Linton, do you mean? I’ve met him. Do you think he will be here?’

‘Shouldn’t think so for a moment. He’s gone off to sea, or so I heard.’ She raised her head and looked along towards the Cliff Bridge. ‘Though – perhaps I’m mistaken about that. Yes, I am. Look! There he is. The gentleman himself!’

Emily stood mesmerized as she watched Philip Linton striding across the bridge towards them. Then she took a deep breath and prepared herself as she saw that he had noticed her and, with only a slight hesitation in his stride, he turned and came towards her.

‘Emily!’ He gave a slight bow. ‘How very nice to see you again. I – er, I never expected –,’

‘Mrs Purnell made a sudden decision to come to Scarborough.’ She gave a slight curtsy and turned to Ginny, who was standing next to her with a polite though slightly amused expression on her face. ‘This is Ginny, Mrs Marshall’s maid. Mrs Purnell and Mrs Marshall have come together,’ she explained, adding lamely, ‘They’re sharing a house.’

He greeted Ginny politely, who bobbed her knee, then with his eyes still on Emily he indicated vaguely towards the sound of the music. ‘I had arranged to meet my family for the concert, but I seem to have missed them.’

Emily was tongue-tied, she wanted to tell him that Ginny had just pointed them out, but she
didn’t want him to think she had been gossiping about his family, so she remained silent with her eyes slightly lowered.

Philip pointed towards where some of the servants on the terrace were merrily dancing. ‘They’re enjoying themselves!’

Emily agreed. ‘It’s lovely music.’

He nodded. ‘It’s from
The Magic Flute
. Do you know it?’

She shook her head. ‘No, sir. I haven’t heard it before.’