Hope at Holly Cottage (5 page)

Anna vowed not to utter another word unless spoken to, and gazed out of the window instead. As from the train, the views were stunning, although over to her left rose the bleak and daunting buildings of Dartmoor Prison. All around, though, the moor stretched to the horizon, the rough ground dotted with sheep, cattle or ponies left to roam free. Well, Anna thought, even if she didn’t get the job, she’d have had a lovely day out!

They turned off the road into a wide, tree-lined avenue. Anna hardly had time to notice Ashcroft Hall, the large, imposing house at the end, as the car was driven round to the side and she was ushered in through a small side door and along a dark, narrow, low-ceilinged corridor. A maze of small rooms led off to either side and she tried to peer in to those whose doors were ajar, but she couldn’t if she was to keep up with the taciturn devil who led the way! Up a short flight of steps and they emerged into a kitchen – oh, it was enormous and—

But the man tutted irritably and so she trotted after him and soon found herself in a vast entrance hall with a grand, sweeping staircase. And it was beside this that the fellow stopped so abruptly that Anna nearly collided into his back.

‘You wait here and I’ll see if Lady Ashcroft is ready for you.’

Oh, help. Anna’s courage shrank as he knocked on the door and waited for an imperious ‘Come’ before entering the room. Anna heard a few muted words above her hammering pulse, and then the man reappeared.

‘Lady Ashcroft will see you now. And make sure you stand up straight.’

Anna flashed him a glance, wondering why she felt grateful for his advice. Clutching at straws, she supposed. But why should she be nervous? Lady Ashcroft could only be flesh and blood the same as she was, and she bet she had never witnessed the violence that Anna had. Seen her mother tumble to her death before her eyes. What could be worse than that? Not an interview. So she stepped purposefully into the room.

Lady Ashcroft was seated behind a small but very fine desk. She held herself erect and proud, her greying hair swept up and held in place with pins. A handsome woman, Anna considered, and she noticed the tailored, fine-checked jacket and cashmere jumper beneath. Beside her stood a tall, gaunt woman dressed in black whose icy gaze tried to freeze Anna to the core.

But she wouldn’t let it. ‘Your Ladyship,’ she said clearly, and dipped her knee slightly. She noticed the shadow of a smile flit over Lady Ashcroft’s face, but the other woman’s expression remained inscrutable.

‘Miss Millington,’ Prudence Ashcroft spoke at last. ‘You had a satisfactory journey?’

The tone was expressionless and Anna wasn’t sure how to judge her. The least said, the better, perhaps. ‘Thank you, Your Ladyship.’

‘Good. Now I understand that you have no previous experience of being in service.’

‘That is so, Your Ladyship. I’ve just left school.’

‘A strange time of year to leave. I hope you weren’t expelled?’

‘Oh, no, Your Ladyship. It was because my … my mother died recently.’

Anna saw Lady Ashcroft raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m truly sorry to hear that. And what of your father?’

Anna felt the sweat break out down her back. ‘My father says it’s time that I made my own way in the world.’

‘And you thought that entering service would provide you with a roof over your head as well as a job?’

Oh dear, this wasn’t going well, was it? Lady Ashcroft was too astute for her. ‘Partly,’ she admitted, since she had nothing to lose. ‘But I should welcome the opportunity to work for aristocracy. And I’m a hard worker and quick to learn.’

She noticed that twitch of Her Ladyship’s mouth again. ‘Well, you’re well-spoken and seem intelligent. What were you studying at school?’

‘English, French and Geography, Your Ladyship.’

‘Hmm. Useful subjects.’ Prudence Ashcroft paused to consider. ‘Well, Miss Millington, I like the way you conduct yourself. This is a small, intimate residence, so the quality of each member of staff is of extreme importance here, which is why I wanted to interview you myself. But I believe we can offer you a month’s trial, would you not agree, Mrs Davenport?’

Anna lifted her eyes to the austere woman in black who pursed her lips in disdain.

‘Yes, Lady Ashcroft,’ was all she said.

‘Well.’ Prudence’s face finally slid into a half smile as she
rose to her feet. ‘I will leave you with Mrs Davenport who will explain your duties in more detail.’

‘Thank you, Your Ladyship.’

Anna dipped her knee again as her new employer crossed the room. Oh, goodness, should she open the door for her? She leapt forward and did so anyway, her heart bouncing in her chest like a rubber ball.

‘Thank you, Miss Millington. We have the makings of a good one here, I believe, Mrs Davenport.’

Anna felt the other woman’s eyes boring into her back as she softly closed the door. Oh, Lord. She gritted her teeth and turned back into the room.

Anna caught her breath at the timid knock on the front door. She had been hastily packing her little square case, though she had precious little to take with her. Underwear, socks, two nighties and her slippers. She had dressed in her working outfit, the same as she had for her interview – serge blue skirt, white blouse and navy cardigan. She would have no further need of her school gymslip, but the Aertex gym shirt, white shirts and grey pullover could be useful. Add to that two summer dresses, a twin set, a pair of slacks and a pair of white sandals, and it amounted to the sum total of her wardrobe.

She had just been about to put in her few books, when the noise downstairs had startled her. Oh, no. Her dad hadn’t come back from work, had he? Forgotten his flask and sandwiches or something? If he were to find her packing, it would be unthinkable. But then Anna melted with relief. Even if he had come back and had forgotten his key, he
would rap on the door like a bull in a china shop. So, it wouldn’t be him. But Anna had a good idea who it was.

She was right.

‘I waited till your dad were safely out o’ the way. I just ’ad to say goodbye again. Didn’t seem right, saying it last night. Only I’ve got to dash or I’ll be late for work.’

‘Oh, I’m so glad you called!’ Anna’s nerves were on edge, but while seeing Ethel, if only for a few moments, boosted her courage, it also filled her with sadness. ‘I feel awful, just sliding away and not telling anyone except you.’

‘Needs must.’ Ethel nodded in that matter of fact way she had. ‘An’ I promise I’ll not tell a soul where you’m gone. Not even my mum an’ dad. Or Maud an’ Pam, cuz they’m bound to come asking for you some time. I’ll just tell ’em I doesn’t know where you’m gone.’

‘They might not believe you. Everyone knows we’re best friends.’

‘I’ll just say that you wanted a new start an’ that you promised to write when you was settled. P’r’aps they’ll forget all about you in time. After all, you was never best friends with ’em like you is wi’ me. But, oh dear, Anna, I got to go.’ Her young face wrinkled with desperation. ‘I ’ates to say goodbye, Anna. You take care now.’

Anna bit on her lip as a horrible emptiness welled up inside her. ‘You look after yourself, too, Eth. And I hope everything goes on all right with you and Bert.’

The mention of her beloved Bert brought a smile to Ethel’s distraught face. ‘We certainly seems to be getting along proper fine. But … Oh, Anna! I’m going to miss you so much.’

‘Me, too.’

They found themselves clasped in each other’s tight embrace, holding on, wishing … But time was getting on.

‘I just hope it’s worth it,’ Anna murmured. ‘That where I’m going is far enough away for Dad not to find me.’

Ethel pulled away, and while the lump in Anna’s throat was choking her, she saw the tears swimming in her friend’s eyes.

‘Oh, there’ll be no reason for ’en to suspect you’m gone to live on Dartmoor. Now, I really musts go. Good luck,’ she added, beginning to walk backwards down the street. ‘An’ don’t forget to write!’

‘I won’t, I promise!’

Anna watched, her vision misted with unshed tears, as Ethel hurried along the pavement, turned at the corner to give one final wave, and was gone. Anna stood for a moment on the threshold, her heart in tatters. Her mum was dead, and now she didn’t know when she would see her dear friend again. And her dad … well. He had changed for ever, she was sure. She really mustn’t allow any feelings of regret to get in the way of her decision. Her mum had clung to the past, hadn’t she, and look where it had got her. Anna set her mouth in fierce determination and went back upstairs to finish packing.

She mustn’t be long. Just the few family photos she’d taken from the drawer downstairs and one or two knick-knacks her mum had given her. That was it. Nothing else to remind her of her previous life.

She had made her bed. The room was unchanged apart from her missing teddy bear that she had squashed into the case. And the note she had decided at the last minute to leave on the bed.

I’m sorry, Dad. I just had to get away. Look after yourself. And please don’t drink too much.

Love

Anna.

She took her gaberdine raincoat from the hallstand. Put her head round the kitchen door. So many memories. Scarf wound about her neck, wriggling her fingers into her gloves. As she bent to pick up the case, her eyes stopped on the lino where her mum had died. No, she mustn’t think like that.

She picked up the case and her umbrella as it looked like rain, and let herself out of the front door. A new life. She mustn’t look back.

‘You must not
ever
use the main stairs,’ Mrs Davenport instructed as she showed Anna up to her room. ‘Not unless you have had express permission for some specific purpose. The main stairs are only for the family and their visitors.’

Anna had been hurrying along behind the housekeeper in the narrow confines of the underground corridor she had been ushered along on the day of her interview, and up the few steps at the far end. But instead of going through the door into the impressive entrance hall, the austere woman led her directly into a small, rear hallway with a door and windows giving out onto the back of the house.

Anna had no time to dwell on the uncertainty that still gnawed at her as she followed Mrs Davenport up the endless flights of stairs that hugged the narrow stairwell right up to the attic rooms of the house. You could see right the way up, she realised with a shudder. It was a bit scary, that, because you could fall right from top to bottom as
well. It reminded her … and she angrily thrust the horrific memory aside.

‘This is your room,’ Mrs Davenport announced with all the feeling of a block of Dartmoor granite. ‘Now, what clothes have you got?’

How flipping rude! Anna thought at once. But then she supposed that the witch … oh, yes, Anna decided that’s how she would think of her, dressed all in black. All she needed was a pointed hat and a broomstick! But concentrating her thoughts, she decided the witch was referring to her
working
clothes.

‘What I’m wearing. And I have two spare white shirts and a grey school jumper.’

‘Hurrump’ was the best way Anna could describe the deprecating sneer. ‘They’ll do for now. I suppose they are school shirts designed to be worn with a tie? Well, you cannot sport an open neck with a button-up collar. Do you have a brooch you could wear at the neck instead of a tie? Nothing fancy, mind.’

‘Yes, I think so—’

‘Good. But on your first free afternoon, you will walk into Princetown and order some more attire from Bolt’s. I shall tell you what to buy. Your shoes are sensible, I see, but you will polish them every night in the boot room. And you will need a pair of wellingtons to slip on if you are required to go outside. We cannot have wet footprints indoors. And you will need to be measured for a uniform for formal occasions, the cost of which will be deducted from your wages. Aprons are the only item you will be supplied with. Now, unpack your things and I will expect you downstairs in ten minutes. I trust you can find your own way below stairs?’

‘Yes, Mrs Davenport,’ Anna replied automatically, wondering if she shouldn’t salute! But the battleaxe seemed pleased with her own monologue, jabbed her head in what seemed to Anna to be self-approval and marched out of the room. Anna heard her footsteps along the corridor and then fading down the bare wooden stairs.

It was only then that she realised she had been holding her breath, and now she let it out through puffed cheeks as she plonked herself down on the bed. Dear Lord, what had she let herself in for? And all the clothes she would have to fork out for! Her wages were only three pounds a week, and her plan was to save all she could until she could afford to move on and find something more suitable. All those purchases would really set her back.

Oh well, there was nothing she could do about it – not unless she wanted to throw it all in and go straight back home to her dad. And she didn’t want that, did she? She had made the break and she was going to stick by her decision. And maybe things might not seem so bad in time.

Ten minutes. Oh, dear. Probably only nine by now. She took in the tiny room at a glance. The ceiling sloped steeply so she must be right under the eaves of the house. A small window was built into the roof, and Anna went to look out. She imagined there must be wonderful views but today everything was hidden behind an opaque veil of mist.

Anna turned back to the room and quickly stowed her possessions in the chest of drawers, the only item of furniture apart from the bed and a small bedside table. On it stood an old oil lamp and a box of matches. Anna’s heartbeat accelerated as she searched the ceiling and the wall by the door, the obvious places. But, oh glory! There was no electric
light in the room, let alone a mains socket! She had seen that there was electricity downstairs but it evidently didn’t reach the servants’ quarters! And there was no fireplace, either. No wonder it struck so cold up there. She was used to an unheated bedroom but would she be allowed a hot-water bottle at bedtime? She sincerely hoped so! There wasn’t an ounce of comfort in the room, not even a rug on the bare floorboards.

She hurried back down the servants’ stairs, passing what she guessed was the door to the first floor of the house. She could hardly believe this all still went on today. It was 1954, and yet this household belonged in the Victorian era. It was like stepping back in time, but she supposed that aristocratic houses still kept up these sorts of traditions. At least she didn’t have to wear a uniform – except on special occasions. She wondered what that meant!

She found herself back in the gloomy corridor down in the bowels of the house, and followed the clink of crockery into the kitchen that she had glimpsed on her previous visit. What struck her first was that the room was so much brighter than the corridor, due to windows all along the outside wall, but Anna realised they looked out on a level with the ground outside. So, this hub of the household was half underground. It was lit also by two stark electric bulbs suspended over a giant table that dominated the room – and where Mrs Davenport was busily preparing some food.

‘I said ten minutes, girl,’ she said, glaring up accusingly. But before Anna could open her mouth in protest – her watch told her that she’d been less than that! – Mrs Davenport commanded, ‘Get yourself an apron and give
your hands a good wash and then come and help me. Lady Ashcroft will be requiring her lunch shortly and I’ve wasted enough time over you already.’

Indignation threatened to burst out from Anna’s lips, but she somehow managed to swallow it down. She was fuming, but she’d show the old crow by proving what a good worker she was! She dutifully tied on a crisp white apron, scrubbed her hands at the deep, stone sink and presented herself at the table.

‘Lady Ashcroft takes a light lunch,’ she was told. ‘Today I have prepared vegetable soup and a cold selection. Ah, Mr Jackson,’ the housekeeper smiled as the said chauffeur – who Anna realised was also the butler – entered the room. ‘Would you carve some ham, please? And you, girl, display those wedges of cheese
nicely
on the small cheeseboard, and then cut two slices of bread, very thinly if you’re capable, and butter them, making sure it goes right to the crust.’

Anna obeyed while Mrs Davenport arranged everything
just so
on a huge tray covered by a pristine cloth. The slivers of bread were almost like wafers and Anna spread the butter evenly. Yes, she supposed it
looked
very neat and uniform, though what difference it made to the taste, she couldn’t possibly imagine!

‘You call that thin?’ Anna shrank back at the irate exclamation. ‘They’re like doorsteps! Get out of the way, girl, and let me do it. Oh, I can see I’ll have my hands full teaching
you
!’

Anna stood back from the table. Oh, you mean old woman! And she watched Mrs Davenport crossly saw two slices that, if anything, were thicker than the ones she had
cut! Her lips were pursed almost as tightly as the older woman’s were, ready to explode, but at that moment, one of several highly polished brass bells on the wall clanged tunelessly.

‘There’s Lady Ashcroft waiting,’ the witch cackled, ‘and her lunch isn’t ready. Well, don’t just stand there, girl! Fetch the cutlery and make sure you hold it by the handles.’

Anna jumped to it, doing this, that and the other as she was bid until the tray was perfected. It was then placed on a wide platform through a hatch, and pulling on some ropes, Mr Jackson hauled it upwards on a kind of lift. Well, I never, Anna thought, but had no more time to marvel as she was instructed to go upstairs with Mr Jackson and open the doors for him.

The butler himself did not utter a word as Anna followed him up those few steps – she was going to dream of them for nights on end, she was sure – into the main hall and across to what was obviously a grand dining room. Lo and behold, the laden tray was waiting behind a pair of small doors in the wall.

‘Lady Ashcroft takes her lunch in the breakfast room,’ Mr Jackson deigned to speak at last. ‘If you see her, you make yourself invisible. Understand?’

Anna gulped down her resentment and nodded. Yes, she understood, all right! It had been made abundantly clear to her that she was the lowest of the low. Dear Lord, how was she going to stand it?

‘
Yes, Mr Jackson
is what you must say,’ he told her icily. ‘Now, I’ll carry the tray and you knock on the breakfast room door, that one over there,’ he indicated with a jab of his head as they went back out into the hall. ‘Just one firm knock
but not too loud, and wait until you hear Lady Ashcroft’s reply before you open the door. And then stand back into the hall. She doesn’t want to see any more of you than she has to.’

‘Of course, Mr Jackson,’ Anna answered, lifting her chin. Her cool tone must have brought him up short as she saw him blink in what passed as surprise. Good! She wanted him to know that while she was happy to show respect, she wasn’t going to be treated like a doormat, and that seemed the first step!